Anyone But You. Jennifer Crusie

his feet, his little silver ID tag glinting in the light from the hall.

      “Fred!” Nina shrieked and dropped to her knees to gather him into her arms. “Oh, Fred, I thought I’d lost you forever.”

      Fred slurped his tongue over her face and then struggled to get free of her. Nina let him go and stood up, wiping her hand across her face to get rid of most of his spit. “Thank you.” She beamed at Fred’s rescuer. “Thank you so much. Where did you find him?”

      “He was sitting on my couch when I woke up.” He held out his hand. “I’m Alex Moore. I live in the apartment below you.”

      Nina wiped her fingers on her skirt and shook his hand, a little dazed. “On your couch? He was sitting on your couch?”

      “Surprised me, too.” Alex grinned at her. “I think he came in from the fire escape.”

      His grin was a killer, broad and friendly and a little evil, and Nina felt her pulse flutter in response. No, she told her pulse and turned to frown down at Fred. “I told you, it’s two flights. You have to climb all the way to the third floor, Fred. You can’t just pick any window and climb in.”

      Fred did the dog equivalent of a shrug and walked away.

      Alex raised his eyebrows. “You trained him to climb the fire escape?”

      Nina bit her lip. “I was hoping no one would notice. I’m sorry. I—”

      “No, I think it’s great. Weird, but great.” He grinned at her again, and Nina was struck by how nice he looked. Not handsome or distinguished like Guy. Just comfortably good-looking. Warmly good-looking. Stirringly good-looking.

      And he couldn’t possibly be thirty yet.

      This was a bad sign. It was also understandable since she’d been celibate for a year, but it was still a bad sign. This guy was a child. If she kept this up, she’d be buying a Porsche and cruising the local high schools.

      “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Moore,” she began and stopped when he shook his head.

      “Alex.” His eyes went back to Fred. “How long has he been climbing the fire escape?”

      “Just since this afternoon,” Nina said. “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be.” His eyes came back to hers, brown and kind and alive with intelligence and humor, and she clamped down on any strange thoughts she might be having. “If Fred hadn’t climbed in my window, I wouldn’t have met you,” he said, “and I think knowing your neighbors is important. Of course, I haven’t met you yet. Let’s try this again.” He held out his hand again. “I’m Alex Moore.”

      “Oh.” Nina took his hand, flustered. “I’m Nina Askew.”

      “Hello, Nina Askew.” His hand was large and warm, and he had lovely long fingers, and Nina pulled her hand away as soon as she realized she was having thoughts about his fingers.

      “Hey!” he said, and Nina flinched before she realized that he was looking beyond her. She turned just in time to see Fred fling himself out the window, and she said, “No, Fred!” as Alex moved past her.

      She followed him to the window and watched with him as Fred waddled down two flights of stairs to the backyard where he promptly watered the Dumpster.

      “Smart dog.” Alex quirked an eyebrow at Nina. “Did you teach him to do that?”

      “I taught him the stairs,” Nina said. “He already knew how to lift his leg.”

      “Smart woman,” Alex said, smiling into her eyes.

      Oh, boy. “Would you like a Coke?” Nina asked and then kicked herself for asking. The last thing she needed was an incredibly sexy underage male drinking Coke in her kitchen.

      “Love one,” Alex said.

      FOR AN UGLY DOG, Fred had a very cute mother.

      Once Fred had scrambled back through the window, Alex followed Nina into the kitchen, trying not to admire the swing of her round hips in her wrinkled brown skirt. He was pretty sure she’d just woken up: her short dark curls were rumpled and her big dark eyes were still a little sleepy and her pale pointed face was creased from a pillow somewhere. Pillows made him think of beds, which only led to one thing, and he told himself to knock it off or he’d end up like Max.

      Of course, Max was a pretty happy guy.

      Alex sat down at the table, trying not to stare at the soft curves in front of him. Very attractive woman, Fred’s mother. He owed Fred.

      She took two blue-checked mugs from the cupboard and opened the freezer door, automatically putting her free hand up to push the large glass-covered pot on the top of the fridge farther back. Then she scooped ice into the mugs and nudged the door closed, and Alex admired her efficiency and her arms at the same time.

      When she took two cans of soda out of the fridge and put the mugs and cans in front of him on the round oak table, he saw her face clearly for the first time, the tiny lines around her dark brown eyes, the softness in her face. She was Max’s age, maybe a little older. Her face looked settled, not serene exactly, but not the searching, anxious look that Debbie’s face had. She looked wonderful and comfortable and centered in herself, and he wanted to tell her so, but he stopped in time. She might think it was a pass.

      Which it would be, come to think of it, and that would be a bad idea since she lived right above him, and if she took offense, there’d be tension whenever they met. And if she didn’t take offense at the pass, she would later when he explained he didn’t want to get married. He had enough problems; no point in screwing up the place he lived, too.

      “Thank you,” he said, and she said, “Thank you for bringing Fred home.” Then she smiled at him, and he felt a little dizzy for a minute.

      “I’m sorry Fred came through your window,” she said.

      “I’m not,” Alex said. “This way we get to talk. It’s a good building, and now it’s better because you’re here.” She flushed, and he thought, not used to getting compliments, huh? and wondered if there was a man in her life and if so, why wasn’t she used to getting compliments?

      “I haven’t met the other people yet.” She poured herself a Coke before she sat opposite him. “Well, I’ve met the landlord on the first floor, of course. And I hear somebody go by on the way up to the fourth-floor apartment sometimes, but I hate to open the door and introduce myself. It seems pushy.”

      Alex laughed. “The fourth floor is Norma Lynn. She loves pushy. In fact, I think she invented it. She’s seventy-five—”

      Nina blinked. “And she’s on the fourth floor? That’s awful!”

      “No, it isn’t.” Alex sat back and watched her outrage. Nice woman. “Norma had her pick of apartments when this place was first chopped up.”

      Nina seemed confused. She looked good confused, too. “She wanted the fourth floor?”

      “Norma is in better shape than you and me put together,” Alex said and then thought, Well, not in better shape than you, and squelched the thought of the two of them put together. He had to stop hanging around with Max; he was turning into a rat. “She climbs those stairs at least twice a day on her way back from yoga and her self-defense class, which is why, as she will tell you, she has the quadriceps of a sixteen-year-old. She also has an exercise bike that she keeps on the fire escape, which is illegal, but she doesn’t care. If you put your head out the window at daybreak every day, you can see Norma peddling away. Norma is going to outlive us all.”

      “Good for her,” Nina said. “Maybe I should take her some tea or something. Does she get lonely?”

      “Norma? She plays bridge on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, teaches piano on Mondays and Wednesdays and holds a readers’ group on Friday nights. I know because she’s invited me to all of them.”

      Nina