The Long Road Home by Cheyenne Meadows Page B

door.

Chapter 19
     
    Comparing the address written on a slip of paper on his console with the house number, Logan gave a quick nod. This must be it. Pulling into the driveway, he surveyed the white colonial house, charming and inviting. A decent-sized front yard contained a handful of trees and a couple of flower beds, now empty except for dead vegetation, waiting for spring to arrive and new flowers to be planted.
    After shutting off the engine, he opened the truck door and twisted on the seat. The position allowed him to slide down until both his foot and prosthesis hit the ground at the same time. He stood up, quickly checking his balance with a grip on the door handle. At least no ice greeted him. In fact, the entire driveway appeared completely freeze-dried with no sign of the ice storm from a few days back. Probably due more to the bright sunlight rather than the temperatures hovering around the freezing mark for highs.
    The creak of a door opening drew his attention.
    "You're here!" Gwen raced out the front door wearing a pair of jeans, a thick sweater, and tennis shoes. She darted across the dormant yard, pulling up at the last instant, stopped, and threw herself into his waiting arms. Her bubbly excitement and resulting force would have knocked him down if he hadn't braced himself against the vehicle's frame in preparation of her frenzied greeting. She hugged the stuffing out of him.
    "Uh huh." His heart soared at the enthusiastic welcome, and a persistent smile refused to budge off his face. Returning the embrace, he brushed his lips over the top of her crown. "I take it you missed me?"
    She pulled back enough to look into his face, schooling her features into pretended indifference. Only the mischief in her bright eyes gave her away. "Oh, I don't know. There was television to watch, housecleaning to do, errands to run. Was I supposed to be expecting a houseguest? I guess…" She squealed and giggled as he tickled her sides. "Yes, you beast. I missed you!"
    "That's better." He laughed and relished the moment, leaning against the seat of his truck with Gwen standing in his arms, beaming in definite happiness. Even the bitterly cold breeze of frigid winter didn't deter his joy. Impulsively, he settled his lips over hers and kissed her like he'd been dreaming of doing since she'd driven away after dropping him off at the airport two days earlier. She met his kiss with a welcoming passion.
    He could have stood there forever, doing nothing more than exploring Gwen's delicious lips and mouth, but the necessity to breathe forced him to pull back and stare into her lovely face.
    Her lips were slightly puffy from his attentions, and her eyes sparkled with sensual delight. A grin covered her face as she drew in oxygen in order to catch her breath.
    "Wow."
    He chuckled. "Here I thought I was out of practice."
    She snorted. "If that's out of practice, then I'll burn up in a fireball by the time you're back up to par."
    "A fireball, huh?" He tugged at one long lock of her chestnut hair.
    "Oh, yeah. Or explode like a volcano. One of the two." She eyed him for a couple of seconds. "Does that make you too hot to handle?"
    He shook his head, thoroughly enjoying the byplay. "Aiming to find out?"
    "Ummm…" A blush tinted her cheeks a pretty rose color, adding to her alluring beauty.
    With a bark of laughter, he patted her rear. "Come on. Let's get inside before we turn stiff as Popsicles."
    "Stiff?" She arched an eyebrow and glanced down at his groin for the briefest second.
    He shook his head and gave her a nudge. "Back inside with you before you catch pneumonia."
    If she only knew the truth. Despite the below freezing temperatures, his erection throbbed with her proximity. He'd love for her to lead him inside, dig through her collection of condoms, and do a personalized fitting prior to some hot and heavy sex. Slow down, soldier. He was her houseguest. Period. While they might be taking the first tentative steps of a budding