Chapter 1
I pushed the curtains aside and glanced out the window in my living room, wondering when Trent would arrive. I could practically picture him walking up the flagstone path to my front door—handsome in his dress uniform, with his short brown hair, dark eyes that smoldered as they gazed into mine, chiseled face, and athletic physique. His body would tower over mine as he pulled me into his strong arms, and when our lips finally met, our kiss would be as magical as it had been at Christmas. I could practically smell the spicy scent of his cologne and hoped that when we saw each other again, it would be as if he’d never even left. That somehow, despite the passage of time, we would still be enveloped in our own little world and nothing between us would have changed.
It had been months since Trent and I had seen each other—four months exactly since I’d first met him on that snowy December day. What had started out with a road closure as I headed back into town and an ill-fated hike through the forest had ended up being the most romantic night of my life. Trent and I hadn’t exactly gotten along when we’d first met. I’d accidentally rear-ended his car, and since he’d been returning to town for his father’s funeral, he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods. We’d decided to take a shortcut through the woods to get back to town, but after we got lost, we were forced to spend the night together in an abandoned cabin. Things had started to change between us as we spent the evening talking over a bottle of wine that Trent had in his rucksack (a thank-you gift that never made it to its intended recipients). As one thing led to another, we’d slowly gotten to know each other. On the rug in front of the roaring fire. Making love again and again. Trent had come over for dinner on Christmas Eve and ended up spending Christmas and the next several days with my daughter and me, the three of us wrapped up in our own little world.
He was supposed to come back a short time later, during his R&R, but scheduling conflicts had kept him in Afghanistan longer than expected, and what we thought would be goodbye for only a short time had turned into several months. We’d kept in touch, writing to one another weekly, and talking on the phone. I blushed recalling some of the letters and emails he’d written describing exactly how he wanted our first night back together to unfold. Not that I couldn’t wait to have him back in my arms again either, but I felt slightly nervous, as if the reality couldn’t possibly live up to the expectations we’d each built up in our minds.
My mind was drawn back to the present as I watched m y six-year-old daughter Hannah riding her new red bicycle up and down the driveway. I’d just given it to her for her birthday last month, and now that the weather was nicer, she couldn’t get enough of it. If I let her, she’d spend all day zooming up and down the driveway, wobbling slightly on her training wheels, the red and white streamers attached to the handlebars whipping around in the air. I loved seeing her so happy and couldn’t wait for the many more stages she’d go through as she continued to grow. Luckily we lived in a small town where I knew all of my neighbors and had family close by. She was finally old enough that I could let her play in the yard while keeping a close eye on her without worry of her wandering off. It was hard to admit that my baby was growing up, but I cherished each and every day that I spent with her.
I’d raised Hannah alone since she was born. My ex-boyfriend had never been involved in her life and had tragically died when she was just three. Luckily I had family close by to help out, but I hoped to someday have a father-figure in her life. Hannah had taken a great liking to Trent, but it was hard to explain to a young child why he was here at Christmas and then suddenly gone.
Hannah hopped off her