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Chapter 1
Later that year, just before Christmas
- HARRIS -
“You want me to build a snowman?”
My brow is pinched with disbelief as I ask, and my hand clenches my phone a little tighter than it should.
I’ve been friends with Freya for several years now, and she’s kind of become a little sister-type in my life.She falls into the role easily as the wife of one of my closest friends, Mason Adler.
But seeing as Ialreadyhave two sisters, I’ve hit my limit.
“Yeah,” she replies so casually that I can’t help thinking she believes that every Navy guy just regularly marches out into his front yard to build a snowman anytime the weather is right for it.
“Uh… why?”I dare to ask.
“Itoldyou.We know someone who might be interested in renting your apartment next when the Navy moves you this summer.I need some good pictures of the place.”
“And I don’t mind taking some,” I say cautiously.“But do you have to have asnowmanin them?”My mind struggles to find a reason.Freya’s a romance author with a brain that simply doesn’t work the same as mine.So what seems obvious to her sometimes just doesn’t jump out at me.
“Yeah.He’s divorced, but he’s got a little kid who visits him.I thought a snowman would make the place look a little more family-friendly.”
I gaze through one of the small windows of my basement apartment at the snow on the ground.“Freya, if he’s got a kid who will be visiting, he won’t want this apartment.It’s only got one bedroom.”In truth, this place is smaller than even I would normally rent.But the owner who lives upstairs also lets me keep my vintage Camaro in her garage.That was a huge selling point for me.
My car was handed down to me from my grandpa.I’d like to honor his memory by keeping it in good shape.Besides, I plan on using it for the so-called midlife crisis that everyone says I’ll have when I retire from the military in about ten years.
“They could make it work,” she assures me.“He’s in the military, Harris.He won’t mind sleeping on the couch when his kid comes over.”
“Freya, I get your intentions—” I begin, treading carefully because since Freya announced to the world that she is pregnant, I’ve found her emotions less than predictable.
Not that they wereeverpredictable.
“—but I’d feel like an idiot making a snowman,” I confess.“Maybe we could just Photoshop one in?”
“Oh, come on, Harris.It’ll take you two minutes.Please?If not for me, do it for the little kid who’s got divorced parents and a daddy in the Navy.”
I groan.I have a soft spot in my heart for kids, especially the ones who deal with a parent in the military.Probably because I’ve seen firsthand how strong they have to be.
“Okay,” I concede.“But it won’t be good.I haven’t made a snowman in maybe twenty-plus years.”
“It doesn’t have to be good.Just…”
Her voice trails and instinctively, I brace myself.
“…if you could do it at 3:30 today, that would be great,” she finishes.
Perplexed, I glance at my watch.“Why then?”
“Best lighting.”
My face scrunches up.“Did you give up writing and take up photography?”
“No.But I know what makes a good picture.Come on, indulge a pregnant woman.”
I sigh.Iknewshe’d play the pregnancy card.It was inevitable.
“I guess,” I grumble.“I’m not doing anything else today.”
