She could daydream about this imaginary family abode all day, but when she faced the classic wooden frame door, Emily’s dry throat threatened to close up. “Well, it’s now or never.” So she did it. She rapped on the door with a couple of confident firm knocks. Her heart pounded, echoing with a thud in her ears when she heard solid, heavy footsteps approach. She swallowed, and felt a bright scarlet flush flame her face.

She wanted to hide in that anxiety-panicked second, but it was too late when the door flew open. Emily stepped back, clutching her purse to her chest like a shield, and fidgeted with her old wool coat, pulling it tight around herself. Suddenly, a tall, broad-shouldered man filled the doorway. She was struck speechless by this man with hazy brown eyes. He didn’t have pretty-boy features. What he had was a solid, strong jaw, a hardness to his square face, and eyes alive with some ancient wisdom, making him in fact the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His flannel plaid shirt didn’t cover any average man. This was a well-formed man who she’d swear could make a burlap sack look good. He pulled off a pair of reading glasses and gazed at her, looking confused, as if she were a door-to-door salesgirl, obviously wondering why she was on his doorstep. She hated that feeling.

“Hi, I’m--” Then the worst thing that could possibly happen, happened. She fumbled her purse upside down. It tipped open, scattering the contents of her bag, as well as coins from the unzipped coin purse inside, all over the doorway floor… along with what remained of her dignity.