“Okay. Hang in there. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” We’d just hung up when I heard a knock on the front door. Curious, I sat up, tightened my ponytail, and went to answer it. It was Mariah.

“Hi there,” I said, smiling at her. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hi.” She looked serious. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need help with something. Could you come over?”

“You never bother me. What do you need help with?”

“Homework.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Homework? On a Friday afternoon?”

“Yes. It’s, um, a really hard math problem. And Grandma doesn’t remember how to do it.”

“Okay. Just let me grab my coat and get my boots back on.”

A minute later, we were heading up her driveway. “I didn’t see you much this week,” I said. “Did you have a nice break?”

“It was okay. Sorry I didn’t come to see you. I wanted to, but my dad said it was better if I didn’t.”

Annoyed, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “You can come say hello at school any time.”

We stepped onto her back porch and stamped the snow off our boots. She put a hand on the door handle and looked at me. “Okay, don’t be mad.”

“About what?”

“I lied about the math problem.”

“Why?” But I understood a second later when Cole pulled open the back door.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” My heart was pounding. What was this?

“Will you come in?” he asked.

I hesitated, and Mariah grabbed my hand. “Please? I really do need your help with something.”

“Okay,” I said, letting her pull me into the kitchen. Right away, the dog came trotting over to say hello, and I knelt down to give him some attention. Then I stood up and looked from daughter to father. “So what’s going on here?”

Cole wore the sweater I’d given him for Christmas. His brilliant blue eyes, as always, put my heart in a vise. “I have things I want to say to you,” he said, “but I promised Mariah I would let her talk first.”

“I’m sorry I lied about the math problem,” Mariah began solemnly. “I’ll never do it again. But I was scared he was going to mess this up.”

“Mess what up?” I asked, bewildered.

“Winning you back,” she said. “And I really want him to get it right, because I miss you so much.”

My eyes filled. “I miss you too.”

“So will you give him another chance? He wants to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” I asked, dabbing at my eyes before I looked at Cole.

“Home.” He reached for my hand. “Let me take you home.”

“What home? Whose?”

He and Mariah exchanged a smile, then he looked at me again. “Ours.”

Neither of us spoke on the drive, but he held my hand the entire time. Mariah had stayed home with her grandmother, and without her chatter, the ride seemed even more tense and silent.

I was too scared to speak, worried I’d break the spell. There was something different about him tonight—something had changed—but I’d gotten my hopes up one too many times before.

He pulled up in front of the house, along the street. To my surprise, there was another car in front of the house—I didn’t recognize it at first, but when we got close enough, Cole’s headlights lit up the license plate, which read BDR.

“Give me one second,” he said, pulling out his phone. After sending a quick text, the car in front of us pulled away from the curb.

Totally confused, I let him come around and open the passenger door. He took my hand once more and helped me onto the sidewalk. It was cold and dark, but all the lights were on in the house, making it look warm and cozy, like a scene from a snow globe.

He stood behind me and wrapped me in his arms. “The night I walked you home for the first time, I remember how you said it was something you used to dream about when we were kids.”

“It was.”

“And maybe I was just too dumb to see it back then, or maybe it just wasn’t our time, but I see it now—you and me, we belong together.”

I put my hands over his forearms, holding them tight to my chest.

He pressed his mouth to my hair. “Nothing is right without you, Chey. I’m sorry I hid the truth from you. You were right—I let you in, but not all the way. I didn’t fight for you the way I should have. But I want to, and I will. Please give me another chance.”

I turned to face him. “I want to, Cole. But I’m scared.”

“I know you are. But let me tell you this. My life has taken some unexpected twists and turns, but I know a few things for sure. I know I was meant to be Mariah’s father. I know I was meant to live in this house. And I know I was meant to spend the rest of my life with you.” He cradled my face in his hands. “You’re home to me, Cheyenne. You’re family to me. The way you love me makes me want to be a better man.”

Tears filled my eyes. “You’re the best man I know, Cole Mitchell. You always have been.”

“But I can be better.” He paused to take a breath. “I had my first appointment with a therapist yesterday.”

Gasping, I tipped my head back to look at him. My heart beat even faster. “Really? You did?”

“Yes. And I survived.” His shoulders rose. “My scars aren’t pretty, but if you want to see them, I’ll show them all to you.”

“Cole, that means everything to me,” I whispered, rising up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Everything.”

“Good. Now come inside. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

He took my hand and led me up the walk, through the front door, and up the stairs.

When we reached the closed door to the master bedroom, he paused and turned to me. “Close your eyes.”

I did as he asked. A moment later, he took both my hands and I felt myself being pulled forward into the room. It was warm, and smelled delicious—like Blair’s bakery in the morning.

“Okay. You can open them.”

I opened them and gasped. My hands flew to my cheeks. I turned in a slow circle, looking at the bedroom of my dreams, lit by dozens of candles. My eyes traveled over the elegant bedding, the soft colors, the plush fabrics, the shining floors.

And the window seat—he’d built a window seat. With a cushioned bench upon which half a dozen pillows rested, along with a soft throw blanket. Not only that, but it was bookended by floor-to-ceiling shelves, freshly painted white and waiting to be filled.

“Cole,” I choked out over a sob. “Did you do all this?”

“I had help,” he confessed, looking happy about my reaction. “The guys were here all last weekend. Moretti was a godsend. And Bianca DeRossi—no matter what he thinks—is an angel. That was her in the car out front. She lit the candles for me and waited to make sure it was safe.”

BDR—Bianca DeRossi. Now it made sense. And yet it was still beyond belief.

“I’m stunned.” I shook my head, wiping my eyes again. “It’s so beautiful. Everything is perfect. Better than I dreamed it could be.”