Cole's Christmas Wish

“I was joking, Rachel.” Andrew looked at her curiously, the concern in his gray eyes evident. “It’s a term of endearment. Why are you upset? Does it matter what he calls her?”

“I’m not upset...I’m—” She stopped, sighed. “No, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. I guess I’m used to these visits going a certain way, and this time, everything is different.”

“I see.” Andrew crossed the distance between them and kissed her on her forehead. “Forget about Cole and his Cupcake. We have cookies to bake,” he said with a grin. “I haven’t made Christmas cutouts since I was a child. Maybe this is the start of a tradition for us.”

“That’s a sweet thought...and a nice one.”

“I like it, too. I’m sorry about work butting in today,” he said, his voice and his expression earnest. “And for my attitude with Cole last night at the Beanery. Forgive me?”

“Of course,” she murmured. “Nothing to forgive.”

Pivoting, unable to handle his scrutiny or his sweetness, she located the cookie cutters and dumped them on the counter before grabbing the cookbook. “Let’s make a tradition.”

Andrew’s gaze still held concern, but he didn’t push the topic. Just nodded and joined her at the counter. Rachel tried—oh, how she tried—to stay in the present, to enjoy this time with Andrew, but her mind kept traveling down other paths.

Yes, darn it, what Cole called his girlfriend mattered. Why hadn’t he mentioned her real name? And really, using only a term of endearment when talking about someone else was odd. Also, and even more telling, Rachel mused as she measured flour into the mixing bowl, was that he’d suggested Dee’s over the family restaurant.

Maybe Cole’s family didn’t approve of the relationship? Oh, wow. That would mean...

Anxiety pooled in Rachel’s stomach and pinpoints of pain jabbed at her temples. If so...then yes, Cole truly loved this woman. His family and their opinions were too important, too valuable to him to remain involved with a woman he didn’t have real feelings for.

“Darling?” Andrew’s amused tenor broke into Rachel’s thoughts. “I think you went a tad overboard on the flour. We’re not opening up a bakery, are we?”

Rachel stared into the mixing bowl, now almost filled-to-the-brim with flour. About, she guessed, four times the amount necessary.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure if she meant her mistake or the fact she’d been thinking about another man when she should be focused on Andrew. On finding her own slice of happiness. “I...don’t know what happened.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Andrew started scooping flour back into the storage container. “See? Easy enough problem to fix.”

Right. Easy as pie. Too bad she couldn’t say the same about cupcakes.

Well...one particular cupcake. Rachel sighed and attempted to push what didn’t concern her out of her mind. Her goal should be to surround herself with the present, with Andrew. If she were very fortunate, perhaps she’d soon be taking a leap of her own.

Into Andrew’s arms.

* * *

Cole stood outside of Dee’s Deli with a to-go box in his hands, waiting for Rachel to arrive. It might be a little—or by some folks’ perspectives, a lot—cold for a picnic, but he’d heard Rachel’s surprise at the fact he’d chosen Dee’s over Foster’s for lunch.

He couldn’t take her there until he’d had a chance to talk to his family. His convoluted plan would go up in flames the second Rachel asked any one of them about his girlfriend. In the light of day, he wasn’t so sure he could pull this off anyway, but he knew he couldn’t if his family refused to get on board. Tonight, Cole decided, he’d see what they had to say.

Until then, he figured a winter picnic would suffice well enough as an explanation for that particular decision. Explaining why his Cupcake was absent from the picnic was another story, but he thought he could deal with that little issue on the fly. Hoped so, anyway.

Thankfully, the snow had lightened considerably in the past hour, and Haley had readily agreed to watch over the store solo for the afternoon. Mostly because he’d asked her to do so last year during Rachel’s visit, so in her mind, this wasn’t any different.

For the next five minutes, Cole went over his plan and the words he intended to use. A tight rope, for sure, portraying a man in love with a made-up woman to the real woman he was actually in love with. There were holes in his plan. Big, gaping holes that he hadn’t quite worked out how to fill. If he played his part too strong, Rachel—assuming she still had feelings for him—might keep those feelings to herself, in the name of his happiness.

Conversely, if Cole didn’t play the part with enough realism, she—again, assuming she even had those feelings—might not be propelled to unbury them, or, hell, to even recognize they existed. Cole’s goal, therefore, was to strive for a balance.

Of course, determining where the line was between “too far” and “not enough” could prove problematic. He’d have to play it by ear, be ready to make adjustments at a second’s notice and hope he achieved the right balance at the right time.

He’d given some thought to just telling Rachel what his feelings were, which had been his original plan before he’d learned about Andrew. Now, after going down that road for all of thirty seconds, Cole had dismissed it outright. The humiliating truth of the matter was that he didn’t think he could take being shot down while another man was in the picture.

This way, at the very least, he retained some control. Some dignity. If Rachel didn’t bite, he’d have his answer soon enough without handing her his heart to decimate. Later, after she’d returned to New York, he’d simply tell her his relationship with Cupcake had come to an end.

No harm. No foul.

Their friendship would live on, Rachel would never know the truth, and Cole would continue living and working in Steamboat Springs. Someday, he might even meet another woman that he’d be able to envision a future with.

He caught sight of Rachel crossing the street, barely skirting the pile of snow left by the curb as she stepped off of it. She was, he realized, stuck deep in her head somewhere, thinking of who knew what and not paying attention to her surroundings.

In that moment, with his vision centered on Rachel, someday seemed an impossibility. As if the reality of loving another woman—any other woman—existed in a different world. One very far from the world Cole—and Rachel—lived in.

* * *

Right before she’d left the house, Andrew had sequestered himself in her father’s office with his laptop and phone. The cookies were baked and cooling, ready for frosting when Rachel returned. Andrew had promised that if all went well on his end, they could see about getting a tree that evening. If all did not go well, they could go tomorrow, or the next day.

They had plenty of time. Almost two weeks until Christmas day, so another day or two or three shouldn’t make a difference. But it did.

She’d put off her lack of Christmas spirit to the fact she hadn’t yet immersed herself in the season. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday, her most favorite time of year, and she wanted to reclaim the happy glow that usually came so effortlessly.

To her, that meant choosing the perfect tree posthaste.

The tree was the visual epicenter of the holiday. You wrapped gifts to put under the tree. You sat around the tree to look at the lights, maybe even to sing a few Christmas carols. You hung ornaments from Christmases past on the tree’s branches to recall the memories and emotions you experienced one year ago, two, three...and more.

Everything surrounded the tree. Sure, she could find one on her own. She’d done so before. But to further her goal of falling head over heels for Andrew, she wanted to do so with him. Create more traditions, as it were. First, though, he needed to clear his schedule, so he could enjoy himself and not stress over business-related problems.

Honestly, she had to wonder if it would have made more sense for Andrew to have stayed in the city until a few days before Christmas. She knew he hated dealing with work issues from afar, so she guessed he’d prefer to be in New York now, rather than here with her.

That is a pessimistic attitude, her inner voice chided, and you have no idea if that’s how Andrew feels. True. But she couldn’t help the way she felt.

Plus, frankly, coming to grips with her nonsensical irritation, shock and other various emotions regarding Cole’s relationship would be easier if she didn’t have to worry about what Andrew was doing, or how he felt, or...

Lost in thought as she was, she didn’t see Cole until she’d just about barged into him. One arm reached out to steady her, stopping her from slipping on the snow-slicked sidewalk. She gasped, righted herself and took a purposeful step backward.

Flustered, she pulled in a breath. “Didn’t see you standing there.”

“I noticed.” Dark brown eyes simmered in amusement and something else Rachel couldn’t name. “Have to be more careful or one of these days, you’re going to run into a wall.”

Been there, done that. What she said, though, was, “Thanks for the warning.”

“That’s me, always willing to lend some helpful advice,” he said, deadpan. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Calm down, Rachel instructed herself and her out-of-control pulse. This was Cole. Her friend. Her good friend. “What are you doing out here instead of inside?”

“Waiting for you.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow. “Again. Why out here?” Oh. Maybe he had something to tell her, something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say in front of his girlfriend? “Is there a problem?”