1968, Milwaukee

"Hey, doll, wanna dance?"

Rosemary Traviata stopped skating back to the restaurant where she had another order to pick up and turned to face the owner of the voice. She groaned. Johnny Fortunato. What did he want? She skated over to his car and reached for the food tray hooked over the door.

"Are you finished with this? I'd be happy to remove it for you."

A large, masculine hand closed over hers. When her eyes shifted to his handsome face, a twinkle of mischief clearly sparkled in his brown eyes.

"You can remove it if you answer the question I just asked." A slow, sexy smile spread over his countenance as he held her hand firmly in his.

His usual three companions sat in the car with him--one in the front and two in the back--and snickered at his words. Johnny ignored them.

Rosemary rolled her eyes, wanting to make light of Johnny being there. "You want I should dance with these roller skates on?" She looked toward the building trying to come up with an excuse to skate away, not let her heart hope for what could never be. "Somehow I don't think my boss would like that very much. I'm not supposed to be standing here talking with customers. I'm supposed to be delivering orders." At one time in her life she would have done anything to have him talk to her. That had stopped years ago in geography class. She rolled her eyes again, only this time at herself. Who was she trying to kid? A part of her heart would always belong to this man.

Johnny shook his head, causing a lock of black hair to fall over his forehead. "No, I don't want you to dance now." He released her hand and leaned back in the driver's seat of his old blue and white '57 Chevy Impala. "You get off work soon, right?" He waited until she responded, then continued, "So go dancing with me tonight."

Rosemary's world spun out of control. She grabbed the tray on the door and steadied herself to keep from falling. Wouldn't that be just great? To fall right in front of his car? Balancing herself, she rolled several steps backward.

Johnny Fortunato was asking her for a date? The same Johnny Fortunato she'd swooned over in geography class four years ago? The one who'd barely given her the time of day? No, surely he wasn't. His buddies probably dared him to ask her. Well, this was one bet he would lose. But, oh, how she wished she could say yes. He'd been the handsomest boy in high school. Now at twenty-two or twenty-three, he was by far the best looking man she'd ever seen.

She had problems breathing as she gazed into the depths of his dark brown eyes. He'd always affected her like this. Years had passed, but some things remained the same.

"Sorry, I already have other plans," she answered, despite wanting to say yes more than anything else in the world. Not meeting his eyes, she removed the tray from the car door and skated toward the Dog n' Suds. Tasting regret, she called back over her shoulder. "But thanks for the offer."

The Impala backed out of its slot and pulled up beside her before she could enter the building. "So where you gonna be tonight?" Johnny asked, one dark brow arched, clearly showing he didn't believe she had other plans.

"St. Madeline's CYO. I promised I'd help set up refreshments." Suddenly feeling sassy, she arched a brow in return, knowing her face clearly said, 'See, I told you so.' She closed the door behind her and watched Johnny speed out of the driveway. His friends' hoots of laughter echoed in her ears as he disappeared from sight.

Oh, yeah. Couldn't she just see Johnny Fortunato at a Catholic Youth Organization dance! The clock over the church entryway would probably crash to the floor, as her grandfather used to say whenever her mother asked him to join them. She'd loved him dearly, but Grandpa Sal had never joined her at church. Not even to watch her performances every Christmas Eve while the Sunday School classes performed the Nativity. His wife had died giving birth to their second child, and he and God had never quite made peace. Since she'd rarely seen Johnny in church, he evidently had a similar aversion to church. That or he felt uncomfortable with continual stares at his black leather jacket!

No, Johnny Fortunato would not be showing up at a youth dance.