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?”
“Nope. Not a one.” Grinning, Cole held up a to-go box. “Thought we’d eat outside today, is all. Cupcake enjoys winter picnics and I like to do things that make her happy.”
“Isn’t that...nice.” Rachel loved the outdoors, but really—a picnic in the dead of winter?
“She thinks so.” His expression became contemplative. “If the thought isn’t appealing to you, I’m sure Cupcake will understand. She doesn’t have a lot of free time today, though, so we’ll probably have to put this meeting off to some other—”
“No!” Ouch. Way too loud. Lowering the volume, Rachel said, “I love winter picnics, Cole!” She looked around, didn’t see anyone resembling a toy poodle. Or for that matter, an actual toy poodle. “I assume she’s meeting us there...wherever there is?”
“Good assumption. I’ve always appreciated your above average observational skills.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
Instead of replying, he winked and curved his free arm through hers. “We should get a move on,” he said. “Before you freeze standing there. The walk will help warm you up.”
“I’m warm enough, but sure...let’s go,” Rachel said brightly. “We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Nope,” Cole agreed as they took off at a brisk pace. “That would be rude.”
“And she wouldn’t like having to wait, would she?” Ugh. She hadn’t meant to sound snide. “Based on what you said last night, that is, about her being determined once she makes up her mind.”
“Why, Rachel Merriday, are you calling my girlfriend impatient?” Cole’s body shook with silent laughter.
“Yes, actually,” she said, his amusement pushing her irritation to new heights. “I am.”
He let out a heavy-sounding sigh. “I’ll admit that her tendency skews toward the impatient side, but I find the trait rather endearing. Helps keep me on my toes.”
“You’ve always preached patience,” Rachel pointed out, disliking the mysterious Cupcake more by the second. “To me, anyway.”
“Yup, I have. You two are quite a bit alike in the impatience...determined department.” Cole guided her around a small group of folks gathered in front of the hardware store. “In a manner of speaking, our friendship has gone a long way in preparing me for this relationship.”
Rachel stopped and narrowed her eyes. “Are you implying that I’m a complicated woman, Cole Foster? Because if you are—”
One long, weighty look halted her words. Goose bumps popped up on her skin and a tremble passed over her as he, inch by inch, appraised the full length of her body.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.
“Ascertaining you’re still a female,” he said. “And you are. So yes, Rachel, you’re a complicated woman. As is my sister, my mother and every other woman I’ve ever known.”
Unable to regain her bearing, Rachel started walking again, though she had no clue where they were headed. Over her shoulder, she said, “I guess that means you owe me.”
He caught up to her, his long stride erasing the distance she’d created in no time flat. “Owe you for what?”
“Why, preparing you for this relationship, of course.” With a flip of her hair, she marched forward, refusing to look at him again