Trace whisked her back into the crowd of swaying couples.
Hand against her spine, he brought her as close as the full skirt of her wedding gown would allow. Poppy let her body sway to the beat of the music, relaxing now that the big picture moments were finished. Their first dance, the toasts, the cake-cutting and endless picture-taking.
All of which had prompted an extended trip down memory lane. âRemember our very first dance?â
âThe senior prom? You quarreled with your date a few days before â¦â
âSo he ended up taking someone else.â
âAnd I stepped in, as your friend.â
Sheâd come very close to falling head over heels in love with Trace that night. But knowing how he felt about romance in general, she had come to her senses in time to preserve their growing friendship. To the point they hadnât even shared a good-night kiss when heâd finally dropped her at her front door, at dawn.
âAnd youâre still doing it.â
Chapter One
âChristmas has come early this year,â Poppy McCabe announced from her impeccably decorated living room in Laramie, Texas.
Lieutenant Trace Caulder stared at the screen on his laptop. Heâd 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 chatâdespite the fact he was currently stationed on an air base in the Middle Eastâhe kicked back in the desk chair and drawled in the native Texas accent that mirrored hers, âReally, darlinâ? And how is that?â Given that even Thanksgiving was still several days away.
âYou remember when you were home on leave two months ago?â
Hard to forget that weekend in Fort Worth. For two people whoâd 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. âWhen we went to the Stork Agency and met Anne Marie?â
That had been the only serious part of the entire rendezvous, but important nonetheless. âSure, I remember,â 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 heâd spent paying homage to her lovely form, and vice versa, he didnât 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.
âAnne Marie was a nice kid.â And at seventeen years old, Trace recollected, way too young to be pregnant. That was why she was giving up her children for adoption.
âWell, sheâs picked us to raise her twins!â Poppy exclaimed with a joyous twist of her velvety-soft lips.
âSeriously?â
âYes! Can you believe it?â She paused to catch her breath. âThereâs only one itty-bitty problem...â
Trace saw the hesitation in Poppyâs dark brown eyes. Waited for her to continue.
She inhaled sharply. âShe wants us to be married.â
Whoa now. That had never been on the table.
Trace swung his feet off the desk and sat forward in his chair. âBut she knows weâre just friendsââ and occasional lovers and constant confidantes ââwho happen to want to be parents together.â He thought the two of them had made that abundantly clear.
Poppy folded her arms in front of her, the action plumping up the delectable curve of her breasts beneath her ivory turtleneck. Soberly she nodded, adding, âShe still gets that neither of us want to get hitched.â
No woman prized her independence more than the outspoken Poppy. For a lot of very different reasons, he felt the same. âBut?â he prodded.