Chapter One

      “Christmas has come early this year,” Poppy McCabe announced from her impeccably decorated living room in Laramie, Texas.

      Lieutenant Trace Caulder stared at the screen on his laptop. He’d never seen his best friend look happier.

      The only bummer was that they were separated by thousands of miles, as was usually the case. Determined to enjoy every second of their video-slash-web chat—despite the fact he was currently stationed on an air base in the Middle East—he kicked back in the desk chair and drawled in the native Texas accent that mirrored hers, “Really, darlin’? And how is that?” Given that even Thanksgiving was still several days away.

      “You remember when you were home on leave two months ago?”

      Hard to forget that weekend in Fort Worth. For two people who’d never been in love and likely never would be, they sure had amazing chemistry.

      Oblivious to how much he wanted to hold her lithe, warm body in his arms and make sweet love to her all over again, Poppy persisted on her verbal trip down memory lane. “When we went to the Stork Agency and met Anne Marie?”

      That had been the only serious part of the entire rendezvous, but important nonetheless. “Sure, I remember,” Trace said, pausing to take in the sexy fall of her thick, silky mahogany hair. A sweep of bang framed her oval face; the rest tumbled over her slender shoulders. Lower still, the five-foot-seven interior decorator had shapely calves, delicate feet, a taut tummy and trim waist, and full, luscious breasts that were meant to be worshipped. Very little of which he could actually see, given that the image on the screen only showed her from the ribs up...

      But then, given how much time he’d spent paying homage to her lovely form, and vice versa, he didn’t really need to see her body to remember it. Fondly. He could tell by the way she often gazed at him that Poppy felt the same.

      “Anne Marie was a nice kid.” And at seventeen years old, Trace recollected, way too young to be pregnant. That was why she was giving up her children for adoption.

      “Well, she’s picked us to raise her twins!” Poppy exclaimed with a joyous twist of her velvety-soft lips.

      “Seriously?”

      “Yes! Can you believe it?” She paused to catch her breath. “There’s only one itty-bitty problem...”

      Trace saw the hesitation in Poppy’s dark brown eyes. Waited for her to continue.

      She inhaled sharply. “She wants us to be married.”

      Whoa now. That had never been on the table.

      Trace swung his feet off the desk and sat forward in his chair. “But she knows we’re just friends—” and occasional lovers and constant confidantes “—who happen to want to be parents together.”