When his fingertips brushed the painted concrete at the shallow end of the pool, he glanced up. His view of the clock was blocked by a pair of tanned legs-female legs that curved into smooth hips and a snug, ocean-blue one-piece bathing suit.

“Hello, Larry,” came a voice that triggered something primal in his nervous system.

Facts and figures fled from his brain as he craned his neck to look up at…the woman from the garage. Crystal Hayes, his brother had told him.

His vocal chords didn’t immediately form words.

Her brow furrowed. “Do you remember me?”

Did he remember her? Hell, yes. He’d dreamed about her last night, spent most of this morning reliving their short conversation, cursing the fact that he was so formal around women, that he couldn’t carry on an easy, bantering chitchat like most men could.

He’d also cursed the fact that he’d offended her by offering to carry her package. He’d wondered if she was still annoyed with him. He’d also wondered if she’d caught on to the fact that he considered her one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

Which was a totally inappropriate thought, and one he’d fought hard against.

“From yesterday?” she prompted into his silence. “At the garage?”

“Yes,” he blurted out.

And then she smiled. “Oh, good.”

He smiled in return, searching his brain for something intelligent to say.

Imagine, a tenured professor, published in the American Mathematics Journal and Quantum International, a NASA consultant, and he couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say to a beautiful woman.

The large pool facility was almost eerily quiet for 2:00 p.m., save for a couple of swimmers splashing a few lanes down.