Cole's Christmas Wish

by Tracy Madison

  She forced her lips into a smile, raised her hand in a wave and continued to march forward, even though all she wanted to do was climb back in her car and run for the hills.

  Where she could hide until she found a way to deal.

  Chapter Five

  Instead of fighting the crowds at the mall, Cole had decided to stick with the small, local shops that dotted the streets of Steamboat Springs. It was, perhaps, a somewhat dangerous choice. The merest mention of his “girlfriend” to a friend—or heck, an acquaintance—they might bump into could, depending on said friend or acquaintance’s reaction, burst his plan into smithereens in three seconds flat.

  But come on, how romantic could a shopping mall possibly be? Not very. Alternatively, the picturesque beauty surrounding them, the quaint stores and everything else that attracted tourists to his hometown held charm and appeal and yes, to Cole’s frame of mind, the perfect romantic setting. Okay, maybe perfect was a bit of a stretch, but it beat the mall in spades.

  “How do you want to do this?” Rachel asked in a clipped, all-about-business way. It seemed she was taking her agreement to help very seriously. Cole couldn’t quite decide if that was good or bad. “Talk as we roam or grab a coffee first, come up with a few ideas and then tackle them one at a time? Actually,” she said with a sharp, decisive nod, “let’s go that route. We’ll get everything done faster.”

  “Nah. Where’s the fun in that?” Speeding the process along was not on his agenda. His hope was to spend the entire afternoon with her, not just a few hours. “I like the roaming and talking idea. And,” he said with a grin, “I was thinking I could help you, too.”

  Rachel arched an eyebrow. “With what?”

  “Your Christmas shopping, of course. I know you’re not done yet,” he teased. “You always wait until the last minute. Your mom’s love of shopping did not rub off on you.”

  She gave a faint shrug. “True enough, but I’m not ready to shop. My tree isn’t up yet.”

  “And you can’t shop until you have a place to put the gifts, right? Well, we can take care of that today, too.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Can’t. Promised Andrew we’d do that together. Maybe tonight. Or tomorrow. Or...Well, it will be soon.”

  Disappointment hovered in her voice, and that bugged Cole. He was well aware of how much Rachel loved Christmas, and therefore, everything that came with—including decorating.

  “Hey,” he said, “don’t look so glum. If Andrew doesn’t find the time to pick out a tree in the next day or two, I’m sure he’ll understand if you and I do so. As you said, he’s a good guy, and good guys prefer their girlfriends to be happy. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then let’s focus on shopping.” He rubbed his hands together. “It will be fun, I promise.”

  “Uh-huh. Fun. Why, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” She did that blink-blink-pause-blink thing of hers and her eyebrow arched a smidgen higher.

  “Me, too. Glad we’re on the same page,” he said with equal sarcasm.

  “Are you ill? Or...I don’t know, delusional? You hate shopping as much as I do.”

  “Typically,” he agreed, taking her by the hand. “But this is special shopping, and it’s Christmas, and therefore, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Uh-huh. Definitely ill.” She smiled, but it looked forced. One way or another, he’d get a real smile out of her before the day’s end. Firming her shoulders, as if readying herself for battle, she said, “Well, then, Mr. Christmas Spirit, let’s get going. It’s freezing out here.”

  He came this-close to teasing her about the various methods he could use to warm her up, but kept the words to himself. Unfortunately, ridding the mental images of those methods proved substantially more difficult. So, for the moment, he settled for a nod. They started down the sidewalk in companionable silence, hand in hand. It felt...natural. Easy.

  The way it should be.

  Excepting, of course, for the pretend girlfriend they were supposedly shopping for and the very real man waiting at home for Rachel.

  “What’s Andrew up to today?” Cole asked, feeling guilty he hadn’t before. “He’s okay with all of this, isn’t he?”

  “Andrew is working. Apparently, he’s the only person at his company capable of handling any and all issues that arise, the second they arise.” She stopped and shook her head. “That wasn’t fair. Andrew told me in advance that this would be a working vacation. And yes, he is fine with our arrangement. Even said he’s relieved that I have ‘something to occupy’ my time while he’s busy fixing the latest crisis.”

  “Ah. I take it you were right, then, about his jealousy fading?”

  “It would seem so.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s good news.”

  “I suppose so. It’s just...irritating after the way he behaved toward you at the Beanery.”

  “Irritating as in you would prefer for Andrew to remain jealous of our relationship?”

  She tugged his hand and began walking again. “Yes. No. I mean, not our relationship specifically, but the fact I’m spending an entire day with a handsome, sexy man. That should bother him on some level. Shouldn’t it?”

  “You think I’m handsome? And sexy?”

  She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “As if that’s a surprise to you. Do you not remember the fan-girls who used to slip their panties into your pockets at bars? Or the ones who knocked on your hotel doors wearing nothing but a coat? Yes, you’re handsome.”

  “Hey, the panties thing only happened once.”

  “Three times. It happened here, once in Vail and once in Aspen. That’s three.”

  Hell. Her memory was better than his. “The hotel thing, that only happened...never mind.” Without even trying, he could recall a half dozen or so instances, so he shut up on that topic. Though, he couldn’t resist adding, “You didn’t say sexy that time. Only handsome.”

  She mumbled something about men and their egos under her breath. “Yes, sexy, too. Geez. Happy now?”

  “Extremely. Mostly, though, I’m glad you’re not getting friction from Andrew.” They’d reached the corner of the street. He gestured toward a gift store that carried handcrafted items made by local artists. “This looks as good a place to start as any,” he said, leading her inside.

  The bell on the door jangled when they entered and Christmas music—naturally—met their ears. While the store was not overly busy, there were a handful of customers milling about, none of whom Cole recognized. Yep, definitely a good place to start.

  “I love this store,” Rachel said as she faced him. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her lips a delicious ruby-red that damn near begged to be kissed, and the wind had tousled her hair so that the strands fell in a wispy disarray of gold. Beautiful.

  So beautiful that the very look of her blocked every last thing out of his head. This, he realized, was just how she’d appear after sex. Rumpled and... His groin instantly tightened and his earlier images returned, further clouding his ability to think, speak or...hell, breathe.

  “Is she an artist?” Rachel asked curiously.

  “Ah...is who an artist?” If he took one minuscule step toward her, he’d be within kissing distance. The want—no, the need—to do just that became overpowering. He almost gave in to it, almost took that step and claimed her mouth with his. But his mind chose that second to replay her question, logic kicked in, and he remembered what they were doing here, in a gift s
tore.

  Even more to the point, he figured out who she was asking about. The girlfriend...his Cupcake. God help him. “No. She isn’t an artist,” he said somewhat abruptly.

  “A collector, then?”

  “Nope.”

  Rachel swung her gaze around the smallish space, giving Cole a minute to shift gears. Mentally and physically. Using a focusing technique from his professional skiing days, he slowed his breathing, relaxed his muscles and envisioned himself achieving his goal as if doing so was a concrete fact, as if failing was an impossibility.

  Back then, his goals had been all about winning, about achieving success for himself and for his team. Now, of course, a future with Rachel took center stage. He saw it. Saw them as a couple, living their life together, supporting and loving one another.

  By the time Rachel returned her attention to him, he was back in control.

  “Is there something in particular we came in here for?” she asked, seemingly unaware of Cole’s inner struggle. “Or...?”

  “No, Rach.” That, at least, was an honest reply. “Nothing in particular. We haven’t looked at anything yet. The plan was to roam and talk and make decisions as we go, remember?”

  “Right.” She pushed out a short breath. “Do you have any ideas—even one—of items you might want to give her? So I have something to base my advice on?”

  “Nope,” he said again, in a purposefully cheerful manner. “Not a one. I’m sorry, Rachel. This could...Well, it could take all day. Gosh, at this rate, maybe all evening, too.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. In frustration, if Cole had to guess. And yeah, right or wrong, that little action tickled him. It showed that he was getting to her, in some form or fashion.

  “Is there anything she needs?” Rachel prodded. “Something you’ve noticed she could use when you’re at her place? Or has she mentioned needing or wanting anything specific?”

  “Hmm.” He pretended to give the questions some thought. Then, “Actually, she could really use a new vacuum cleaner. But,” he said, mimicking her earlier action and glancing around the store, “this probably isn’t the place to find one. Maybe we should hit up Walmart?”

  Groaning loudly, Rachel yanked her hand from his. “You’re an idiot,” she said with a real, true, beautiful-as-a-sunrise sort of grin, “thinking something that practical is romantic.”

  “You asked if she needed anything,” he replied with a straight face, once again enjoying himself. “She does. A vacuum cleaner. How does that make me an idiot?”

  “I didn’t mean something quite so cold and utilitarian!” She crossed her arms in front of her and stared at him. “I meant something...softer, I guess. Like candles or—” Rachel jerked her chin toward a display of quilts “—something pretty and feminine.”

  He scratched his jaw as if the entire idea confused him. “So I shouldn’t buy her a vacuum cleaner, even though she really, really needs one?”

  “I suppose that depends on if you want her to marry you or clean your house.”

  “What if,” he said with a wide smile and a wink, “I want both?”

  That earned him a smack on the arm. “Idiot,” she repeated. “I would suggest you don’t include that information in your proposal. If you’re aiming for a yes, that is.”

  “See? I knew you’d have great advice. This is good stuff. Exactly what I need.” Because he couldn’t resist, he took that step and gave her that kiss. On her forehead, though. “Help me, Rach. I’m out of my league here.”

  “I said I would help, didn’t I?” She bit her lip again. “But I need a name—any name that isn’t Cupcake—to call her. Make something up. Like Hortense or...Ingrid.”

  “Sure,” he said, stifling a laugh. Hortense or Ingrid, huh? “What about Bambi? Or...hmm...Jezebel? Cocoa?”

  “No. Something normal. Something that doesn’t sound like a hooker or...or a poodle.”

  “You have your animals mixed up. Bambi is a deer, not a poodle,” he said laughing. “But okay. Let’s see...a normal, non-prostitute, non-poodle name.” He considered using Rachel’s middle name, but figured that would be too obvious. Instead, he went with the first portion of her surname. Merriday. Mary. Perfect. “Let’s go with Mary, since, well, this is all for Christmas. Is that normal enough for you?”

  “Fine. Wonderful choice.” Blink, blink. Pause and blink. “Describe Mary to me, please.”

  “Mary is... Well, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He moved a few feet away from Rachel and feigned interest in the shelf nearest to him, one that held a myriad of pottery bowls, vases and the like. “Inside and out. Her smile lights up a room.”

  “Well, I guess candles aren’t necessary, then,” Rachel muttered, making Cole grin all that much harder. Luckily, she couldn’t see his face. “I should’ve asked about her hobbies. What does Mary like to do? In addition to lighting up rooms, that is.”

  “I wouldn’t say she likes lighting up rooms. She just smiles and the room glows a little brighter. She probably isn’t even aware of how her smile affects me.” He selected a short, squat vase that had delicate flowers painted along the bottom. The sky-blue color was a perfect match to Rachel’s eyes. “This is pretty, don’t you think?” he asked, turning around.

  “Beautiful.” She tapped her foot. “Great choice. One gift down and you’ve yet to tell me anything specific about...Mary.”

  “Who said anything about buying this for Mary? I thought of you when I saw it. The flowers remind me of your eyes.” Whoa. He hadn’t meant to share that, the words had simply slipped out. Faking a scowl, he returned the vase to the shelf. “Great. Here I had the perfect Christmas gift for you, and you went and ruined it.”

  “Really? You thought of me?”

  “Really.”

  A slight, wobbly breath whispered out of her lungs. She came forward and bent slightly at the knees, apparently to get a better look at the vase. Grabbing it, she stood straight and held the vase close to her chest. “You’re right, the vase is pretty. I’m sorry for...ruining your gift to me, but I have to have it now. So I’ll buy it.”

  Now, her eyes were a breathtaking combination of smoke and pure blue ocean. Still beautiful. Still Rachel. Just a sultrier version of the woman he loved. “Here,” he said gruffly, pulling the vase from her deathlike grip. “I’ll buy it for you. Since... Well, because I want to.”

  He figured she’d argue. Women did that a lot, argued when there was no reason to put up a fuss. She didn’t, though. Rather, her lower lip trembled in emotion and those unforgettable eyes of hers darkened yet another degree, to a shade reminiscent of the midnight sky.

  Blue, but just barely.

  “I would like that very much,” she said. “Thank you, Cole.”

  “You’re welcome, Rach.”

  Later, when they were leaving the store with only the vase in tow, she slipped her hand in his. Something she hadn’t done on her own since...well, since before.

  She’d hug him, sure. She’d accept his hand when he reached for hers, absolutely. But this...reaching for him on her own accord was something new. Something different. Something...hopeful.

  It was enough. For now.

  * * *

  One gift. After two-and-half hours of “roaming and talking,” they’d managed to purchase a solitary present for the woman now known as Mary. Why Cole had seemed so delighted by the snow globe was beyond Rachel’s understanding. But he’d honed in on the darn thing as if it were made of
gold and coated in diamonds.

  The globe was cute, she supposed. It consisted of three separate globes, each depicting a separate scene, put together in the form of a snowman. The scene in the bottom globe was that of a group of kids playing in the snow, sledding, snowball fights and the like. In the middle globe, a pond with more kids ice-skating took center stage, while the top globe—the snowman’s face, as it were—showed Santa in his sleigh, flying through a snowy, star-filled night.

  So yes, cute. But romantic? Not in Rachel’s mind, and she’d told Cole so. Twice. He’d ignored her and bought the overpriced tchotchke anyway, which made her wonder why he’d asked for her advice in the first place. But he had and she’d agreed, so whether he listened to her or not was out of her control. She was good and stuck.

  “How many gifts did you say you needed?” she asked. They were at Foster’s, which was packed with people, grabbing a quick dinner before heading out to do more shopping. Her mother would be in heaven. Ha. That was a thought. If Cole still required help when Candace Merriday—shopper extraordinaire—arrived in town, she could step in.

  “How many more days until Christmas?” Cole asked from across the table. He did the math before Rachel could respond. “Not counting today, we have...ten days left, right? So minus the snowman that makes...nine.” A pained expression crossed his face. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, my sentiments exactly.”

  “Well, I have the snowman to give her tomorrow. It would be good to find at least one more tonight, so I’m one ahead.”

  “Let’s aim for four more tonight, the final five tomorrow, and call the job done. Otherwise—” she lowered her voice, going for a menacing growl “—I’m turning you over to my mom when she gets here.”

  Cole winced as her arrow hit home, causing her to grin. She’d brought him up to speed on her mother’s phone call and impending visit earlier, somewhere in between store number two and store number three. Both of which were nothing but a foggy haze at this point.