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believe what I did."
    His grin grew wider.  "Uh-oh.  Sounds like something terrible."
    She threw her hands up.  "It's not funny.  I lost everything."
    His brows arched and as he peered at the monitor from the opposite side of the desk, a lock of wavy hair fell over his forehead.
    Though tempted to push it back from his brow, she instead returned her attention to the blank screen. "The information's not here."
    She could tell Noah was trying hard to hide a smile as he came around the back of the desk.  It wasn't funny. 
    She tried to squiggle her chair out of the way, but one roller hit the edge of the desk and her elbow brushed Noah's thigh.  A current of electricity raced through her.  Knowing there wasn't room enough for herself, the chair, and Noah at the computer, she began to stand.
    He laid his hand on her shoulder.  "Stay put.  If you didn't delete, we'll have it back in a minute."  His lazy smile along with his firm touch turned her stomach upside down.
    She swallowed.  "And if I did?"
    He shrugged matter-of-factly.  "If you deleted, you'll have to do it all over again."
    "Not in my lifetime," she muttered.
    He laughed and pushed a few buttons.  The information she'd been working with flooded the screen once more.
    "Where was it?" she asked in amazement.
    His eyes twinkled.  "Do you really want to know?"
    She looked at the monitor, she looked at him, she felt the heat of his hand on her shoulder, and her mouth went dry.  "No.  It doesn't matter."  Was that her voice, so low and thready?
    Noah's face was very close to hers as he leaned toward the desk.  "We should print this out."
    When she turned to look at him, the top of her head brushed his chin.  His lips looked firm, warm.  The pulse on his jaw seemed to be beating in time with the increased rate of her heart.  She slowly met his green gaze.  He moved fractionally closer and her heart flip-flopped.  If he kissed her, would she...
    "Francie Marie.  Have you had supper yet?"
    Noah quickly moved to the side as Angela Piccard entered the office, a covered casserole in hand.
    Francie felt her cheeks go hot.  What had her mother seen?  What had she thought?  "Mama, what are you doing here?"
    Angela plopped a potholder on the desk, setting the casserole on top of it.  "Your father's doing our bookwork for last month.  Gina went out again.  So I brought you some left-over lasagna so you won't eat one of those hot dogs."
    Her mother was still trying to make up for all the years Francie had been away.  "I didn't eat yet.  Thank you."
    "Good."  Angela smiled at Noah.  "There's enough here for two."
    "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Piccard."
    She brushed his words away.  "Angela.  Call me Angela."  She adjusted the lid on the casserole.  "I came for another reason.  Francie tells us you're staying a while."
    Noah's expression became guarded.  "Yes, I am."
    "And you're staying in a motel?"
    He nodded.
    "We have an apartment over our garage that's empty at the moment.  You're welcome to stay there."
    Noah glanced at Francie.  "That's very kind of you, but if you can get a permanent tenant, I wouldn't want to stand in your way."
    Francie didn't think Noah was comfortable with the offer.  She didn't know if she was.  They'd be working together at the rink.  To have him in such close proximity other times...  She wished her mother had discussed this with her first.  Not that talking would have done any good.  Angela Piccard always did what she thought best despite adverse opinion.
    "Francie, tell him how nice it is," her mother directed.
    Obediently, Francie said, "It's very nice."
    Noah's lips twitched at her lack of enthusiasm and he seemed to relax.  "Why would you offer it to me, Mrs. Piccard?"  At her raised brows, he amended, "Angela."
    "Francie and I know how impersonal motel rooms are, how sterile.  Who wants to go back there at night?  This is furnished and you'll have everything you need."
    "Mrs. Piccard..."  He caught