CHAPTER ONE
I roll down my window, allowing the cold, crisp air to fill the car. I need something to keep my eyes open after driving nine hours straight. The loud music from the radio comes to a halt as ringing chimes through the speakers.
Glancing at the time, I answer the call. “Annabelle? What are you doing up at three-thirty in the morning?”
“I woke to pee and thought of you,” she says, her voice soft. “Have you made it?”
“Almost.” I sigh and look to the GPS. “Six point eight miles to go, and it can’t come soon enough. It’s already started to snow.”
“I called ahead, and everything is taken care of,” she says. “The cabin is stocked, and you don’t have to worry about a thing for the next week.”
“Thank you,” I say, blinking back tears. “I don’t kno—”
“Nonsense,” she interrupts, her usual upbeat voice stern. “You have nothing to thank me for. I did what any decent neighbor would do. I want you to take this week and put all that crap behind you. No one deserves it more.”
Hot, salty tears stream down my cheeks, and I suppose that’s one way to stay awake. “Still …” I trail off, not wanting to sound any more pathetic than I already do. “Looks like the final turn is just ahead.”
“Perfect.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re going to lose signal soon, so I’ll let you go.” She pauses, sighing. “Have a good week, Ivy.”
The call goes dead, and the car is silent for only a beat before the too-loud music returns. I hastily turn it down as I slow to make a right. One point four miles to go and a light sheen of snow has already blanketed this smaller roadway. I creep down the narrow two-lane road, careful not to end up in the ditch.
It’d be my luck.
My eyes burn with the need for sleep, and my body aches from being perched behind the wheel for the long drive. I can barely remember the trip. Two states have passed, and my fog-filled mind barely knows where I am or where I came from.
“Your destination is two hundred feet on the right,” the robotic voice of the GPS says, and I can just make out a mailbox through the curtain of falling snow.
I slow and carefully turn into the drive, afraid I might miss and hit the ditch instead. Snow falls harder now, and as I look around to the thick woods and dark driveway, I begin to second-guess myself. Maybe this isn’t such a bright idea after all.
Foreboding moves over me as I roll deeper down the snow-covered drive, but a moment of relief flits through me when I catch sight of a faint light in the distance. Annabelle said she’d taken care of everything, so of course she wouldn’t expect me to show up in the middle of the night to a dark cabin.
Weary and empty-minded, I shut off the car, leaving my bags for the morning. Approaching the door, I punch in the number Annabelle provided and push it open. A light is on over the stove, and remnants of a fire glow from the hearth.
All I can think of is sleep. I scan the space, looking for the only door off the main room. Pushing the front door shut behind me, I start toward it, already unbuttoning my blouse. Only a faint glow of light peeps through as I enter the dark bedroom, but it’s just enough to make out the bed on the far wall.
Pushing the door closed behind me, I move across the room, slipping my shirt from my shoulders and dropping it to the floor. My skirt follows, and I feel around for the blanket, slipping into the cool, comfortable softness, my eyes closing as soon as my head hits the pillow.
CHAPTER TWO
“You look beautiful today,” he says, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “It shines against the blue of this shirt.”
“Someone has good taste,” I say, smiling. He bought me this for Christmas last year, but he must have forgotten, judging by the confusion on his face. “You bought it.”
“Oh, wow.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how I could’ve missed that.” He steps closer, cupping my cheek. “Yes, I do know how. It’s you. You scramble my brain with your perfection.”
I place my hand over his, tilting into his touch. “The things you say take my breath away.”
“You take my breath away.” He releases me and takes a step back, dropping to one knee and producing a black velvet box from his pocket. I’m too stunned to speak, so I only stare. “You’re it for me, Ivy. I know we’re still in college, but we graduate in the spring, and I don’t want this part of our lives to end without knowing you’re going to be mine.” He pauses, taking my hand and pushing the diamond onto my finger. “Will you marry me, Ivy Spencer?”
Tears leak from my eyes, and I nod furiously. “Yes!” I say, smiling and sniffling and so overcome that my heart is pounding. “Yes, E—”
My eyes pop open, and the sunlight reflecting off the bright mounds of snow outside the window causes them to slam back closed. I groan, burying face in the fluffy white pillow as I try to forget the dream. It doesn’t take much to push it away. A single image destroys the longing, and the pain that forced me to drive nine long hours comes roaring back.
“Ivy,” Mrs. Clarke calls, pushing the empty cart back to the desk. “I finished putting the books away earlier than expected. How do you feel about getting out of here an hour early?”
“Are you sure?” I lay the novel I’m reading aside, inserting the bookmark and stuffing it in the drawer. “I don’t mind staying.”
She waves me off. “The campus is dead with winter break. I can handle closing alone. Besides, Mr. Clarke will be here in thirty minutes as usual.”
“If you’re sure,” I say, already grabbing my coat.
“Go on. Get!” She giggles as I throw up my hands and pretend to scurry away.
The freezing night air forces me to pull my coat tighter as I exit the library and begin the short walk to our apartment. We’ve been living together for over a year in a nice building only a block from campus. We’ve discussed finding a bigger place since the engagement, but we’re not even sure if we’ll stay in Seattle come spring.
My feet pound against the stairs as I hurry up the two flights. The warmth of the building is finally starting to settle in by the time I make it to our floor.
Just as I pass my neighbor’s door, it opens, and Annabelle comes into the hallway. “Hey, Ivy,” she says in her usual perky voice. “I was about to run to the store, but is there any chance you have some sugar?”
“How much are we talking?”
“Just enough for coffee in the morning.”
“Sure thing.” I motion down the hallway. “Follow me.”
What we find when we open that door is an image I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. My boyfriend, my fiancé, has Rebecca Hart bent over the arm of the sofa as he plows into her from behind. They don’t even realize I’m there, and it’s Annabelle who comes out of her trance to pull me away.
The sound of water running brings me from my memories, and I roll over and sit up. The blanket falls to my waist as I search for the origin of the sound and notice a door on the left side of the room. Is that the bathroom? Just as I toss the cover, ready to stand, the door creaks open and a man clad in only a towel props against the jamb.