by Janice Lynn
That is, until he noted the humor in his friend’s gaze and glanced down at the paper Andrew had handed him. A three was in the upper right-hand stocking on his friend’s paper, too.
Great.
Cole would be collecting toys with Sophie.
Chapter Three
After Sophie finished handing out the papers, she spotted her sister on the other side of the room. Isabelle must’ve snuck in late after closing the quilt shop. When Sophie joined her, Isabelle demanded, “That’s Cole Aaron?”
“Stop staring,” Sophie hissed through gritted teeth, swatting at her sister’s arm.
“How did I miss him at Ruby’s?”
“He didn’t stay long.” Sophie had been acutely aware of the firefighter from the moment he and Andrew had arrived that day and had been disappointed at how quickly the two men had left.
When Sophie had seen Chief Callahan here, she’d wondered if she’d bump into Cole.
When she’d stepped up to his table and looked into those icy blue eyes, she’d barely been able to breathe. The man got under her skin, that was for sure.
For his part, he’d barely acknowledged her presence. Guess that told her he hadn’t changed his mind about how he felt. He wanted nothing to do with her. Ever.
That left Sophie feeling as if she’d lost something precious. Which made no sense. She didn’t know him.
Only…she did. She’d gone through such an intense emotional journey reading his journal that she felt as if he was an intimate friend rather than a simple acquaintance.
Still straining to look toward Cole, Isabelle’s brows lifted. “I understand now why you keep talking about him. He is cute.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. There her sister went with the “cute” talk again. “I haven’t mentioned him since the day I went to the firehall.”
She hadn’t. Not a single word to Isabelle, and barely more than that when her friend Sarah had asked if she’d found the owner of the journal. Sophie had glossed over her meeting with Cole then, and had only told Isabelle that he’d refused the book. Revealing his refusal to anyone else had seemed as if she would be exposing his vulnerability, so she’d kept it to herself.
She might not have mentioned his name out loud, but Sophie had thought about Cole since then. A lot.
As in, way too often throughout every single day.
She’d reread his diary, trying to imagine the quiet man with a pen in his hand, pouring his emotions onto the pages of the book. His fingers gripping the pen tightly as he bore down on the paper, firing words onto emptiness in attempt to rid himself of the nightmares inside of him.
Isabelle said, “I may start schoolgirl-crushing on him, too.”
Sophie squinted at her sister.
“Oh, fine. I won’t get in a tizzy over him.” Isabelle glanced over at where Cole sat with Ben and Andrew. “Are you going to ask if he’s changed his mind about the journal?”
“No.” Sophie snorted at Isabella’s suggestion. She’d seen the narrowing of those pale eyes when she’d handed him his flyer. It was clear he wished he’d never met her.
In a way, she could understand where that distaste was coming from. What guy wanted anyone to know how vulnerable he was on the inside? Especially a tough ex-Marine firefighter?
Maybe, at some point in the future, she could make him understand that she hadn’t judged him harshly because of what she’d read but rather that she viewed him with compassion. Perhaps if she told him about her work with the Quilts of Valor Foundation, he’d understand that she and others like her made quilts for military personnel past and present to comfort and help them heal after traumatic experiences exactly like the ones he’d written about.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to wrap Cole in a quilt?
To drape lovingly sewn material around his wounded warrior shoulders, letting the cotton fabric hug him, as she welcomed him home?
“Sophie? You’d best snap to it before Maybelle calls you out on your daydreaming,” Isabelle warned, nudging Sophie with her elbow.
Having no idea what she was supposed to be snapping to, Sophie looked to her sister for guidance.
“Charlie and Ruby’s group is over here. Your and Sarah’s group is meeting at the back corner table. Perhaps you should join them,” Isabelle suggested, filling in the gaps the way she always did when Sophie got distracted. Three years older, her sister had always looked out for Sophie. For their mother, too, really.
“Yes.”
She should pay attention. Maybelle wouldn’t think a thing of calling her out in front of the entire room. It wouldn’t even be the first time for that, either. Maybelle had been her church Sunday school teacher several times over the years and had put a halt to Sophie’s daydreaming more than once.
She gave her sister an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Izzy.”
Sophie hurried back to where five people waited on her.
Rosie Matthews, Sarah Smith, Ben Preston, Andrew Scott, and Cole Aaron. How had she ended up giving the firemen all threes?
Having Cole in her group made her insides jittery, but it was unlikely she’d get a better chance to let him know his secrets were safe with her, that she knew more about what he’d gone through than he thought.
She’d lived it, too.
Not directly, as he had, but as the child of a father who had been unable to handle the battles taking place inside his head long after he’d returned to civilian life.
Pushing the memories aside before she fell down another rabbit hole of distraction, Sophie took a deep breath and smiled at her group. She knew everyone, of course, but Cole was probably a stranger to Rosie and Sarah. For his benefit, she asked the members to introduce themselves.
Rosie, still a vivacious free spirit even well into her sixties, batted her lashes at the three firemen, fluffed her dyed-blue hair, then held her hand out, palm down, as if she expected one of the men to lift it to his lips. Always the charmer, Ben complied.
“So nice to see you all, I’m sure,” she cooed, her Southern accent coming out thick and heavy. “If I’d recalled that Pine Hill’s fire department had the likes of you three and was younger, I’d have set my smoke alarm off and had y’all over for some of my grandmother’s famous cinnamon bread months ago.”
Eyes wide, Sophie and Sarah exchanged looks, both biting back smiles at their audacious older friend—and her well-known technique of using cinnamon bread as the way to a man’s heart. Sophie wasn’t sure of Rosie’s exact age, but the woman was still a teen at heart. A very flirty teen who saw herself so clearly as the belle of the ball that she was still able to convince others to see her that way, as well. She was engaged to a local diner owner who was crazy about her, but she’d yet to agree on a wedding date.
When it came to men, Rosie was more bark than bite—but she was a whole lot of bark.
Sophie adored her and had always been a bit in awe of the amount of energy she exuded.
“What Rosie means,” Sophie told the firemen, avoiding looking directly at Cole, “is that we’re glad to have you guys working with us this year. Welcome.”
Sarah and Rosie smiled, as did Ben. Andrew wore more of an amused smirk than a smile, and Cole just gave his friends a look that said he wondered what they’d gotten into and how quickly they could extricate themselves.
Disappointment settled heavily on Sophie.
“So, here’s our list of businesses to canvass.” Sophie pointed to the paper she held, determined not to let any of her nervousness surface despite the fact she was the source of amusement for two firefighters and the source of irritation for another. Lifting her chin and keeping her smile in place, she continued, “Our first order of business is to go by and talk with each one to see if they’ll let us put out collection boxes again this year, and if they’ll match last year’s cash donation or consider increasing.”
She glanced up, noted that ever
yone was looking at her—except Cole, who appeared as if he’d rather be anywhere than her group.
How awkward would it be if she offered to let him change? Would he even want to, since his friends had ended up in Group Three, too?
“We’ll divide the list, pair up, and go by each business over the next two weeks,” she told them, pressing forward. Maybe she could still salvage the situation and avoid seeing him for the most part. “Then, we’ll get together for coffee to compare notes and reassess what’s needed most.”
“Rosie,” Sarah stepped in before the older woman could offer to go with the men. “You’re with me. The extra time together to talk about wedding plans would be wonderful. You know how much I value your insight since Aunt Jean isn’t here for me to talk to.”
Along with Andrew’s grandmother Ruby, Rosie belonged to a group of women who called themselves the Butterflies. Sarah’s late aunt, Jean Hamilton, had also belonged to their group, along with Sophie’s Aunt Claudia, which was why she’d always given her nieces gifts decorated with butterflies. After Sarah’s mother had died, the Butterflies had taken her under their wings, and since Sarah had gotten engaged, all the Butterflies were eagerly contributing to her wedding plans.
“Oh, yes, that would be nice,” Rosie admitted.
“I rode over here with Andrew, so I’ll partner with him,” Ben offered, looking amused as he continued. “Guess that leaves Sophie stuck with our buddy.”
Smile instantly fading, Sophie’s cheeks heated as her gaze went back to the firemen. “I rode over with Andrew, too,” Cole said, frowning at his friend.
“Ben called dibs first, though.” Andrew pointed out with a grin.
“Um, well, we could divide up into two groups, the women and the men,” she offered, thinking that would give both Cole and her an out. She’d go with Sarah and Rosie, and Cole could go with his coworkers. Problem solved.
“I think the three pairs we have now will be perfect,” Sarah said, not quite meeting Sophie’s eyes.
Sophie shot her a look to say she was supposed to be on her side. Just because Sarah was happily in love with her fiancé, Bodie Lewis, she apparently thought she qualified as a master matchmaker. She was wasting her time. Cole couldn’t stand Sophie.
“Me, too,” Andrew added, crossing his arms.
“Makes sense to stay as we are,” Ben pointed out, not pulling off the innocent look any better than Sarah or Andrew. “Three groups can cover a lot more ground than two.”
“Plus, Sarah and I will be discussing her wedding.” Rosie waved her hand dismissively, apparently climbing on the matchmaking train. “We’d bore you senseless, Sophie.”
“I doubt anyone has ever been bored around you, Rosie,” Sophie corrected.
“Yes, so true.” Rosie’s face lit with delight. “But Sarah and I have lots to talk about before she says ‘I do.’ Bodie still hasn’t told us where he’s taking our girl on their honeymoon. Sarah and I can plot to find out how she should pack.”
Could they be any more obvious that they were throwing Cole and her together?
“Bodie is a wise man to keep his honeymoon plans a secret from you Butterflies,” Ben said, earning a scowl from Rosie and a smile from Sarah.
Realizing that, no matter how much she argued, she and Cole were paired together, Sophie longed to find the nearest hard surface and bang her forehead against it. Didn’t they see how embarrassed she was? Or the sour look on his face at the prospect of being stuck with her?
He’d been through enough. Being near her bothered him. How could she let him be forced into this situation?
It wasn’t as if she was eager to be stuck with him, either.
What woman wanted to be around a man who detested the mere sight of her?
Sophie felt obligated to save him. Cole could see it written all over her rosy-cheeked face, could see her racking her brain for a way to get out of spending time with him.
Good. He didn’t want to spend time with her. Nor did he need her to save him as if he was some charity case.
He was a proud Marine. He’d been in much tougher situations than being forced to spend time with the likes of sweet, feminine, nosy, Christmas-y Sophie.
They’d visit the businesses on their section of the list, do their holiday duty, and then be finished. Afterward, they could go their separate ways. No harm done.
Better to just give in gracefully and get it over with, since any protests they put up would just add fuel to the fire their friends were tossing them into. And in the end, they’d still be stuck together with no option other than to grin and bear it.
If things were different, they might’ve been friends. But things weren’t different. Sophie had read his journal.
The less he had to do with her, the better. Which was why he needed to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Striking a pose similar to Andrew’s with his arms crossed, Cole shrugged. “No problem. Sophie and I will tackle our portion of the list.”
Her name, said out loud, felt odd on his tongue. Not that it should with as many times as her name had been on his mind. Everything to do with that book seemed permanently etched in his awareness.
Ignoring Sophie’s surprised look, he kept his gaze trained on his friends. “Just make sure you keep up with how many more donations we get than you two clowns.”
“Game on,” Andrew and Ben said almost in unison and fist bumped.
The group made plans to divide the list of businesses, then to meet up as Sophie suggested in two weeks. Cole wasn’t on schedule to work at the firehall that day. Too bad, as it would’ve been a perfect excuse to skip out.
After Maybelle made a few more announcements, the meeting officially ended. Cole had ridden over to the church with the guys and hoped they’d immediately leave. Unfortunately, they’d gotten pulled into a conversation with a guy from another group about Andrew’s pride and joy: Big Bad Bertha, aka his motorcycle.
Cole sighed. They were going to be a while.
Sarah and the blue-haired granny were talking wedding stuff with another woman who’d joined them, the blonde Cole had seen Sophie with earlier. She kept glancing his and Sophie’s way.
Sophie, who was still right beside him.
What did you say to someone after telling her that you never wanted to see her again?
Taking a deep breath, she found words before he did.
“I’m sorry.” She truly looked remorseful and a whole lot embarrassed.
“For?”
As he’d donated the journal, he couldn’t really blame her for having read what he’d written. He’d given it away and she’d gotten it. End of story.
Logically, he acknowledged that. Logic didn’t make it any easier being around her, though. Her presence made him uneasy, as if he was walking into a burning house that threatened to consume him at any given moment.
Studying him, she shrugged. “That you’re stuck in my group.”
“It is what it is.”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “Okay. I just thought…well, I didn’t want you to think I purposely gave you a sheet that put you in Group Three.”
“I don’t.” The true remorse in her eyes convinced him as much as her words.
“Good.”
“We’ll do our part to make the toy drive a success,” he continued. “We’re here for the kids. Everything else is secondary to them.”
It hit him that maybe she wanted nothing to do with him, either, after their latest encounter. Who could blame her?
“Unless you’d rather not?” he suggested. “If that’s the case, I’ll find a reason to bail on volunteering and you can join up with the other ladies. No harm done.”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh no. That’s not it at all. I just didn’t…well, you…I mean, I know you said you never wanted to see me again and I…�
� Looking as flustered as she sounded, she turned her palms up in a helpless motion. “Can we just start over? Pretend I never came to the firehall, that I never found your journal, and that we’re meeting for the first time today?”
He regarded her a moment, then shrugged. “Works for me.”
After all, they were going to be stuck working together on at least a couple of occasions. This would simply be making the best of a bad situation.
Looking relieved and smiling once more, she stuck out her hand.
“Hi, I’m Sophie Davis, one of your group leaders and your Christmas toy drive partner. We’re going to make a great team.” She flashed a smile. “Just so you know, we’re going to blow away the other two pairs with all the donations we get.”
Cole’s gaze dropped to her outstretched hand. If she was willing to call a reset, why not go along? What was he afraid of?
He took her hand.
That. That was what he’d been afraid of. Afraid her hand was soft, warm, feminine.
Touching Sophie’s hand made him feel. Cole didn’t want to feel.
He’d been right to say he never wanted to see her again, should never have agreed to be her partner, but it was too late for second thoughts now.
He pulled his hand away, resisted the urge to wipe the scalded skin across his jeans, but the way his palm tingled made him question if he should.
Something flickered in her eyes, but quickly disappeared as she smiled again. Too brightly for him to think she’d been unaware of how uncomfortable their touching had been.
Did her hand burn, too?
“And you are?” she prompted, continuing with her starting-over pretense.
He was feeling ridiculous, frustrated, and was currently wishing he wasn’t there, but whatever.
“Cole Aaron.” He didn’t sound friendly, but he’d managed not to snarl.
“Hi, Cole.” Her smile was dazzling as she went into full sunshine mode. He fought the urge to put his hands up to block her radiant glow. “I’ve lived in Pine Hill my whole life and don’t believe we’ve met.”
Fine, he’d play along. Why not?