A tremor ran down her spine an instant before two hands covered her eyes.  It took a moment for her to recognize the familiar scent of sandalwood, spice, and man--her man.

His warm breath caressed her neck. Her HEART skipped a beat when he whispered in her ear, "Guess who?"

She thought she'd have a bit of fun at his expense, "Robert Redford?"

"Guess again." He kissed the nape of her neck.

"Umm . . . Paul Newman?"

"No." He moved to nibble on her ear.

"Oh, I know, Bruce Boxleitner!"

"Who?" He turned her to face him.

"You know that actor from that science fiction film Jamie likes, about the computers. Never mind." She gave him a quick peck on the check. Not the greeting she had in mind, but one appropriate for their location-the high school gym. Since he'd been away on a zero contact mission, she decided to chaperone the Valentine's dance at the school.

Not quite the evening she had in mind for their first anniversary. But now that her husband was home, they could do a little celebrating after the dance. Romantic music, a nice bottle of wine, a red lace and SATIN teddy, and lots and lots of sex sounded like an ideal way to spend their anniversary.

Her body heated at the idea and she could feel the blush creeping up her neck. She reined in her lustful thoughts, and returned to the present when she heard her sons welcome Lee home. He gave them each a high-five before they went back to join their friends.

He picked up a COOKIE covered in pink SUGAR from the tray on the table and bit into it. "Hmmm . . . you sure do bake a mean cookie, Mrs. Stetson."

"Thank you, Mr. Stetson. Thank you for the flowers, too. They're lovely, but unnecessary. I know how you feel about ROSES."

"I couldn't let today go by without sending you flowers. I'm sorry about not including a card." His lowered his voice and shyly confessed, "I couldn't find the right words to tell you how much you mean to me."

She cupped his cheek, feeling his five o'clock shadow rasp against her palm. A shiver coursed through her and she had to suppress a moan when she thought about how wonderful his whiskers would feel against the more sensitive parts of her body. "You just did. And quite nicely, too."

His voice took on that gravely quality that never failed to turn her to jelly. "I know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face. I'm in total agreement. How much longer until we can be alone?"

She checked her watch. "Another half hour."

He groaned and adjusted his trousers. "It's going to be the longest thirty minutes in history."

End.