Forget Prince Charming. Natalie Stenzel

His voice rang with doubt.

      She propped her fists on her hips. “I’m not lying. He passed the dog off to me. Weeks ago. He said he traveled too much to take care of it and the dog liked me better anyway.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “And I didn’t have the heart to take him to the humane society or find a stranger to take him in. So the puppy’s mine.” She glared at Rick. “Do you always jump to wild conclusions?”

      He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I hope not. Sorry.”

      Haley rolled her eyes. “Like I’d kidnap somebody’s dog.”

      Rick cleared his throat and glanced around the apartment before turning his sights back on the bike. His eyes flickered over the banana seat and woven basket decorated with plastic daisies. The bicycle only had one speed. It was similar, in fact, to the bike she’d ridden all over the neighborhood as a child. He swept a hand over the upright handlebars, fitting his fingers around the tasseled grips, then looked up to meet her eyes with a provoking grin. “Nice bike.”

      Haley sighed, used to the odd looks and comments she attracted with her metallic-blue 1976 Huffy. “It does the job and it’s made for a short person.” She paused a beat. “And I already killed two ten-speeds because I never remembered to shift gears properly. This was ten bucks at a garage sale and it’s perfect for the short trip to work. Saves on gas.”

      Casually, he tested the front tire, a slight frown wrinkling his brow. “You need new tires. These are almost bald. Why don’t you come by my shop this weekend and I’ll get you set up.” His offer was absently sincere and, from the look on his face, almost immediately regretted.

      “You own a bike shop?”

      “Mmm. The one around the corner from your toy shop.”

      She eyed his physique, which obviously carried not one extra pound of fat, and conceded that he was very likely a biking enthusiast. Peter had been, too. In between tennis matches, he’d participated in a triathlon last year, a fact he liked to work into conversations with new acquaintances. And complete strangers. She gave Rick a cool smile. “I suppose you race, too.”

      “Sometimes. Just a hobby.” He looked as though he were going to add something to that statement, then shrugged and smiled.

      “Well, maybe I’ll have those tires looked at sometime. Thanks.”

      “No problem. Guess I’d better leave you to it.” He nodded meaningfully at the clipboard, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

      Her annoyance grew. “Yes, I suppose you’d better. Nice meeting you, Rick.”

      “You, too, Haley. Incidentally, you might also try copy centers and, maybe, hobby shops.” He closed the door behind him, and Haley stuck her tongue out at it. Maybe not the most mature response, but it was gratifying.

      A moment later, she snatched up her clipboard again and added these two items to her list of likely hangouts.

      HER HAIR DRIPPING WET, Haley considered the options overflowing her closet. The packaging could make or break her, she knew. Best to go with something simple. Attractive but not threatening.

      She tugged the fluffy towel more firmly around her breasts. With her free hand, she shoved aside bright colors, short hems and trendy cuts, before pulling out a pair of mostly unwrinkled khaki pants. What about tops? A simple long-sleeved T-shirt maybe? She tossed her finds into a pile on the bed and dropped the towel.

      Opening a drawer of the antique dresser she’d refinished herself, she pulled out a pair of lacy peach panties and matching bra and pulled them on. Then she shrugged into her T-shirt and hopped her way into her slacks. After buckling the woven leather belt, she surveyed the effect in the mirror. Acceptable. Impatiently she flipped a wet lock of hair out of her face and behind an ear.

      Earrings. Jewelry. What about jewelry? Simple hoop earrings. And her locket. Haley tapped a finger to her mouth. That would be perfect. A simple gold heart on a dainty chain, a Valentine’s Day gift from her late father. For luck.

      She glanced wistfully at the chunky bangles she’d picked up at a flea market to go with a skinny little dress she’d found on sale a few months ago. Shaking her head resolutely, Haley closed her jewelry box. She went scavenging for a matched pair of socks, slipped them on, and reached for a hairbrush.

      After ten minutes’ worth of blow-drying her reddish-brown hair and applying a touch of makeup, Haley decided she was as ready as she’d ever be. She ran down the stairs from her loft bedroom, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

      Thirty seconds later, she turned back and unlocked the door. She dug through a drawer of her desk until she found her computer manual, then hurried out once more.

      She was dressed and armed.

      “WELCOME TO COMPUTER NATION, ma’am. Is there something I can help you find?”

      Haley turned in the direction of that nervous voice and came face to face with her first real-live computer nerd. Cruel to say it, even think it, she knew, but he certainly fit every stereotype she’d ever heard.

      His brown eyes eager behind thick lenses, the man smiled at her, shifting nervously from one thin leg to the other. Kind of endearing, she allowed doubtfully. Certainly sincere. Haley’s smile widened. “I certainly hope so…Tim,” she finished, after reading the badge pinned to his ink-stained shirt.

      Tim flushed, but he clapped his hands together gamely. “Okay, where do we start?”

      “Well, I’m looking for a good financial management system. Computerized, obviously. Something to help me keep track of my accounts, maybe set up a budget.” Haley carefully injected a delicate air of helplessness into her request. She wasn’t lying about her need for software, but she probably could have selected it without any help.

      Her delivery must have worked, too, because Tim was looking a little more at ease, obviously in his element now. “I think we can help you out. We have a pretty good selection, appropriate for different computers, different needs. Some of them are loaded onto the demo computers if you want to try them out.”

      “Oh, good. I really think I’m going to need to try them all out before I know which one is right for me.”

      At her dazzling smile, Tim flushed.

      The man poised around the corner of an aisle, who’d turned at the sound of the familiar voice, rolled his eyes in disbelief. This was going to be good.

      Keeping his distance, Rick kept pace with them, making sure to keep an aisle or display as buffer between him and the conversing couple.

      Unable to resist a quick glance at his attractive neighbor, Rick peeked around the corner, chuckling silently at the wide-eyed look she was giving poor Tim. No doubt Tim was ready to spontaneously combust. The look was obviously meant to boost a fragile male ego, and it was working. In spades.

      When Tim moved closer to demonstrate with the mouse while Haley stood at the keyboard, Rick’s amusement faded. Haley didn’t back away, and his mood lowered even more.

      “Oh, Tim, that’s perfect. I’ve had so much trouble keeping track of my spending from month to month, but I think this program would keep even me on track. Do you think it will work with any computer?”

      Tim’s voice and posture grew even more confident as he discussed computer speed, memory and various other factors that were only so much white noise to Rick. He’d already determined the maker and capabilities of the software Tim had demonstrated and knew it was compatible with almost any system. Tim did, too, he was sure, and was now just trying to impress the lady with his prowess.

      To his disgust, Haley was wearing the most vacuously fascinated expression he’d ever seen on an intelligent woman’s face. Unable to bear witness to any more, Rick quickly selected an ink cartridge to fit the printer in his home office and headed toward the checkout lines.

      He smiled at the cashier. “Hi, Cathy. Doing all right up here?”

      “Yes,