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Cole's Christmas Wish
Tracy Madison


Cole Foster had only one wish this Christmas…And that was for Rachel Merriday to realize, finally, that she was in love with him! The only problem was, he and Rachel were friends…just friends. Sure, they kissed that once and what a kiss! but Cole was waiting for the right time to tell her how he really felt.But has time run out? Rachel was coming home to Colorado for Christmas with a new man! And from what Cole's been hearing, this guy might just be 'the one.' How could that be, when it's been so obvious from the moment Rachel first leveled him with a snowball as kids, that it's Cole she should be kissing under the mistletoe!Maybe now is the right time to finally let Rachel know that all he wants for Christmas…is her.







COLE FOSTER HAD ONLY ONE WISH THIS CHRISTMAS…

And that was for Rachel Merriday to realize, finally, that she was in love with him! The only problem was, he and Rachel were friends…just friends. Sure, they kissed that once—and what a kiss!—but Cole was waiting for the right time to tell her how he really felt.

But has time run out? Rachel was coming home to Colorado for Christmas with a new man! And from what Cole’s been hearing, this guy might just be “the one.” How could that be, when it’s been so obvious from the moment Rachel first leveled him with a snowball as kids, that it’s Cole she should be kissing under the mistletoe!

Maybe now is the right time to finally let Rachel know that all he wants for Christmas…is her.


A tingling sense of awareness snapped into place.

Yep, there she was, crossing the street with her arm linked in a man’s. The other man tipped his head to her level and whispered in her ear. Something primal roared to life inside of Cole, reminding him of what was at stake, and it was all he could do to stay seated. Yes, he decided, for Rachel’s sake, he would try to play nice....

But at some point, Cole would pony up and meet this guy at the gaming table. Because Cole now knew he was in this for the duration. Somewhere in between seeing Rachel again and remembering how it felt to have her in his arms, he’d made a decision. He was done waiting for the right time, the right words, the right moment or the right anything.

This was war.


Dear Reader,

Like the heroine of this story, Christmas is my most favorite time of year. I am addicted to every one of the trappings the holiday brings—decorations and lights, eggnog and home-baked cookies, shopping and wrapping and, of course, spending time with family and friends.

Christmas tends to bring people closer together. We gather to decorate the tree, bake cookies and exchange gifts. We visit family or welcome guests into our home to celebrate the holiday. And, by and large, people are happier and more upbeat during the Christmas season.

In Cole’s Christmas Wish, you’ll meet Cole Foster and Rachel Merriday. Cole is the youngest of the Colorado Foster brothers, and is determined to show Rachel that they belong together. This would be easier if she hadn’t brought a man with her to celebrate the holiday!

So what’s a guy to do? Use the holiday and all its trappings to his advantage, of course. Toss in a pretend girlfriend, a nosy-but-well-meaning family, the beauty of Colorado in December and a woman who wants nothing more than to fall completely in love with the right man, and how can Cole lose? Maybe this is the Christmas his wish—and Rachel’s—will finally come true.

I hope you enjoy Cole and Rachel’s story, and I wish you the merriest of Christmases!

Tracy Madison


Cole’s Christmas Wish

Tracy Madison




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


TRACY MADISON

lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.


To my agent, Michelle Grajkowski, and my editor, Gail Chasan.

Thank you both for your support, wisdom and encouragement.


Contents

Chapter One (#uaa361231-88d9-5d62-a8af-e9dac74b15c0)

Chapter Two (#ub79ec843-63e6-5061-b4d8-ed0e26391633)

Chapter Three (#u81f504cc-b4f5-5db4-a106-a075adde6fc7)

Chapter Four (#ud6106ccd-a3c8-5e06-9bb5-cb1dfcc9cadd)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Christmas had all but exploded in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Wreaths adorned with big red bows and holly berries hung from doors and windows, lampposts and storefronts were strung with sparkling white lights, holiday music played inside and out, and everywhere Cole Foster looked, people—residents and tourists alike—were literally glowing with cheer.

There were a few, he noted, who walked quickly, either because they were used to the frenetic pace of a larger city or because they were intent on reaching their destinations after a full day of shopping, skiing, or both. Still others chugged along the sidewalks slowly, enjoying the sight of Steamboat Springs dressed in its Christmas best.

The locals, on the other hand, fell somewhere in between, neither rushing nor dawdling, yet obviously focused on going home or getting to work. Typically, Cole fell into this group, especially after a long, busy day dealing with the ins and outs of managing the sporting goods store his family owned. Today, however, he wasn’t going home.

He stopped and shoved his hands into his coat pockets, breathed in a deep lungful of fresh, cold December air and took a moment to gather his bearings. Thick, fat snowflakes dropped lazily from the sky, enhancing the appearance of the perfect Christmas village. It was, he admitted, a beautiful night.

The weight didn’t lift from his shoulders, though. Nor did the anxious adrenaline pummeling through his blood abate. Hell, this year, he had more in common with the Grinch than he did with jolly ole St. Nick—and he had no one to blame but himself.

He’d waited too long to act on his feelings, and while there were reasons for his slow-footed approach—valid reasons, dammit—too long was, at the end of the day, still too long. And now, Rachel Merriday might have gone and fallen in love with someone else.

So yup, the merry had been sucked clean out of Cole’s Christmas.

Ironic, really, at the timing. For months, he’d thought about Rachel’s visit, about how he was finally going to broach the “taboo” topic and put their past behind them. So maybe, just maybe, they could return to what they were beginning to share before the accident that had changed everything.

Four years ago—had it really been that long?—his entire future looked bright. His career in downhill skiing was speeding along, his relationship with Rachel was starting to turn the corner from the friendship they’d always had to something more—something deeper. One fall—one disastrous fall—had ended not only his career, but the aftereffects had sent Rachel running.

Shouldn’t have been a surprise. Rachel’s first instinct when anything skewed off-balance was to get the hell out of Dodge. Hadn’t he seen her bolt time and time again throughout the years? Yep, he sure as hell had. Just not with him. So when she had, that bit in hard. Real hard.

Unfair, perhaps. He still didn’t know exactly why Rachel hadn’t stayed, hadn’t stuck with him when his world shredded apart. Oh, she’d called. Sent care packages and notes of encouragement, but she hadn’t been physically present throughout his year of rehab, or for the time it took to get his head screwed on straight again.

In fact, she hadn’t returned to Steamboat Springs until last Christmas, when they’d somehow managed to breach the gap and reestablish their friendship in person. It had been too soon to dredge up the past—their one and only kiss and the words they’d each said the night before the accident—so he’d waited until this year. Until this Christmas.

Except, a little over a week ago, Rachel had called to inform him that she wasn’t coming to Steamboat Springs alone for the holidays. Nope. She was bringing a man with her. A man she deemed might be “the one.” Just that fast, all of Cole’s plans had disintegrated into dust.

He inhaled another breath and walked on, nodding at and greeting those on his path to the coffee shop. When he arrived at the Beanery, he paused again and glanced inside the windows, in search of a woman with long blond hair and bright blue eyes.

Nope. She wasn’t here yet.

Cole pushed open the door and was hit by a blast of heat, the scent of fresh brewed coffee, cinnamon rolls—the Beanery’s specialty—and the sound of voices mixed with more freaking Christmas music. What he wouldn’t give to hear Mick belting out “Satisfaction” or “Start Me Up,” instead of yet another rendition of “Jingle Bells.”

A few of the regulars called out to him as he took his place in line. Again, he responded to each with a nod and a smile but didn’t initiate further conversation. Rachel would be here soon, and Cole needed every minute between now and then to prepare himself.

The line moved slowly, as Lola—the owner of the Beanery—chatted with each and every customer as if they were her best friend. Beyond the cinnamon rolls, the warmth and camaraderie Lola offered was a large reason why the Beanery was always chock-full of people, even during the few months of the year the town wasn’t overrun by tourists.

Usually, Cole enjoyed talking with Lola as much as he enjoyed her cinnamon rolls, but today all he wanted was to get his coffee and escape to an empty table. Preferably one with an unobstructed view of Lincoln Avenue, where he could wait in relative peace for Rachel and “the one,” and catch a quick glimpse of them before they saw him.

Body language often told the truth about the state of a couple’s relationship. Cole was hoping to see a mile-wide distance that would negate the possibility that “the one”—otherwise known as Andrew Redgrave—might be raring up to propose.

Frankly, the thought made Cole sick to his stomach. Yeah, he’d waited too long to speak his peace, and now—well, now he might lose Rachel before he—they—ever really had a chance.

“What will it be today, Cole? Your normal black coffee and a cinnamon roll?” Lola’s chipper, somewhat twangy voice interrupted his thoughts. “Or are you in the mood for something fancier for once? Maybe a peppermint mocha or an eggnog latte?”

“Coffee is supposed to taste like coffee, not peppermint or eggnog,” he pointed out, taking in the snowmen dangling from her earlobes, the oversize Santa hat pinned to her bottled-red hair and the blinking, multi-colored necklace of lights she wore. He grinned. Lola was a character, no doubt about it. “Just the coffee today, I think. Had a late lunch.”

Squinting in surprise, Lola grabbed one of the Beanery’s bright orange mugs. “Never known you to say no to one of my cinnamon rolls, late lunch or not. You feeling okay?”

“Yup, just not hungry,” Cole said quickly. “You know how it is this time of year.”

Curiosity lit Lola’s gaze, but she nodded and poured his coffee. Cole bit his lip to stop himself from over-explaining. Lola was one of his mother’s best friends, and if she suspected anything was amiss, she’d be on the phone to Margaret Foster in the blink of an eye. In another blink, his mother, father, brothers and sister would descend—each determined to discover what the problem was so they could go about rectifying it. Whether Cole wanted their help or not.

“Here you go.” Lola slid his coffee across the counter, along with a wrapped-to-go cinnamon roll. “For later, when you’re hungry again. My treat.”

“Thanks.” Arguing, Cole knew, would be pointless. He handed her a few bills to cover the cost of the coffee. “I’ll save it for breakfast.”

“Your mom was in earlier today,” Lola said as she rang up the purchase. “She’s ordered several dozen of these for Christmas Eve. I hear you have family coming in for the holidays?”

“Yup. The entire Oregon side of the family, babies included.” All three of his Foster cousins were now settled down and, from what his mother had said, blissfully happy. Good for them. “Thanks again, Lola.”

After dropping a handful of change into the tip jar, Cole made his way—finally—to a table. Ten minutes, more or less, until he saw Rachel. And Andrew, of course. He couldn’t forget about Andrew, though he’d tried his damnedest to do just that.

Rachel had sent him a text when her plane had landed. That had been a little after noon, so she and Andrew had been in Steamboat Springs for about six hours. Her parents weren’t in town at the moment, which meant that Rachel and “the one” had spent an entire afternoon ensconced in her family’s vacation home. Probably cuddled together in front of a blazing fire with wine and...Cole rubbed his temple and tried to remove the forthcoming image.

He swallowed a gulp of coffee, tuned out the blasted Christmas music and stared out the window. In the time it had taken him to get his coffee, the snow had grown heavier, the light sheen of fluff now covering the streets and sidewalks getting thicker by the minute.

The sight combined with his melancholy state-of-mind took him back in time, to the day he’d first met Rachel. He was eleven, she was ten, and a bunch of the local kids were messing around over at the school playground. Cole and his two older brothers, Reid and Dylan, were involved in one of their massive snowball fights when the mother of all snowballs crashed into the back of Cole’s head, sending him sprawling face-first in the snow.

His brothers stood there like statues, their mouths hanging open in shock. Cole pulled himself up with a snowball ready to go, pivoted and saw...her. Pink cheeks, huge sky-blue eyes and short, wispy blond hair that stuck out around her face like a newborn chick’s feathers.

A rich kid, based on the fancy boots, coat and car parked behind her. Scowling, Cole lowered his snowball. His family owned businesses that catered to the tourists. Ticking off this girl’s parents wouldn’t please his folks, and he’d learned that rich-kid tourists didn’t take well to being one-upped by the local kids.

It irked him that he couldn’t retaliate. Being laid out by a girl wasn’t cool, and Reid and Dylan would be merciless in their teasing later. Their sister, Haley, upon hearing the story, would go on and on about how much better girls were than boys, and wow—wouldn’t that suck?

Still, he followed his common sense and shrugged it off, as if the dumb girl and her snowball meant less than nothing. His eyes had locked with hers, and she’d given him this spunky, I-win sort of grin that made him even madder, so he turned his back to her.

Seconds later, Cole was kissing the snow again. This time, his brothers broke into laughter. That alone was enough to force Cole into action. Sputtering, he flew to his feet and let his snowball fly. She staggered backward when it smacked her on the chin, but stayed upright. He expected her to stomp her feet and throw a hissy feet, to run to the safety of her car and burst into tears to whomever sat inside.

But she didn’t. She smiled broadly, and in almost slow motion, pulled another snowball from behind her back and whipped it through the air, hitting not him, but his brother Dylan square on the chest. That had been the start of their friendship.

For the next many years, Rachel and her parents spent the holidays and the occasional summer in Steamboat Springs, and their friendship grew stronger as they grew older. During their teenage years, they began to stay in touch throughout the months in between her visits, and once they were in college—and after—they found ways to spend time together on a more consistent basis.

Always as friends, though. Until that last year. Until the kiss, the accident and the hell that followed. Cole’s gut tightened at the memory. Hell, had he turned into a sixteen-year-old girl? The past was the past, and dwelling on what had happened, versus what might or might not have happened, did him absolutely no good in the present.

A tingling sense of awareness snapped into place. Cole shifted to the right to get a better view and...yep, there she was, crossing the well-lit street with her arm linked in a man’s. For a millisecond, he forgot everything else as he watched her long-legged, slender body in motion. Her middle-of-the-back-length blond hair blew around her face, the strands merging with the swirling snow, creating the image of a mythical snow princess.

His heart did the galloping lurch to his throat, and his blood seemed to warm beneath his skin. God, he’d missed her. Even more than he’d realized. He gave himself another few seconds to enjoy the simple pleasure of just seeing Rachel again. She was as beautiful as always.

The man—Andrew—tipped his head to her level and whispered in her ear. Her lips opened in a silent laugh, and she bestowed a light kiss on his cheek. Something primal roared to life inside of Cole, reminding him of what was at stake, and it was all he could do to stay seated.

Narrowing his eyes, he now focused all of his attention on Andrew.

He was tall, but not as tall as Cole. Stupid and meaningless, for sure, but that pleased him. He walked in a smooth, polished gait that spoke of authority, and his black Burberry trench screamed style and wealth. Not a surprise. Rachel came from style and wealth and everything that lifestyle granted, so why wouldn’t the man she decreed might be the one?

That didn’t bother Cole. What did was how good they looked together. He supposed he could hope there was something wrong with Andrew...some ulterior motive buried behind his interest in Rachel. She’d been involved with men before who were more interested in her family’s wealth and her father’s business connections than they were in her.

Somehow, though, Cole’s intuition told him that wasn’t the case here, even though he hadn’t yet spoken one word to Andrew. If there was something—anything—going on that could potentially hurt Rachel, Cole would ferret it out. More for her sake than his. Not that he wouldn’t use any such information to his advantage, because he would. Without doubt or hesitation.

He supposed he could also hope that Rachel would bolt, as she had with him and other relationships over the years, but wishing for that felt wrong. Cole wanted her to be happy, and that wouldn’t happen until she’d figured out that running away never solved a damn thing.

The couple stopped outside the window. Andrew pulled Rachel close for a kiss that reignited Cole’s mental images of how they might have spent their afternoon. Cole swallowed, squeezed his hand tight around his coffee cup and waited the interminable seconds until they separated. Rachel said something, laughed again and tugged Andrew toward the door.

It took every bit of willpower that Cole could muster, but he had his smile warm and welcoming when they entered the coffee shop. Rachel squealed, dropped Andrew’s hand—which, yeah, also pleased Cole to no end—and flew toward him for a hug.

Standing, he opened his arms and caught her when she landed. Pulled her in tight to him and squeezed. Her scent, a delicious mix of spice and fruit and winter, wrapped around him, securing the knowledge that Rachel belonged in his arms.

Soft hair, damp from the snow, brushed his jaw as she whispered, “I’m so happy to see you. It’s been too long.”

“Good to see you, too,” he said. “And it’s always too long.”

She stepped out of his arms and turned toward Andrew to introduce them. Her pretty blue eyes softened and a glow entered them that Cole had only seen once before—in the seconds before their solitary kiss. Well, hell. So far, nothing was adding up the way he’d hoped.

Widening his smile, as fake as it might be, Cole reached out to shake Andrew’s hand. A faint smirk colored Andrew’s expression, but he met Cole’s hand with his own and—surprising Cole—squeezed a tad harder than required. And then, harder still, as if out to prove his machismo.

Immature, possibly, but Cole wasn’t about to ignore the challenge. He tightened his hold incrementally, smiling all the while, knowing he could outlast just about anyone in the handshake wars. It took all of fifteen seconds, maybe twenty, before Andrew gave up and released his grip.

Score one for the home team.

“Good to meet you, Kyle,” Andrew said as he flexed his fingers. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the man that Rachel considers a brother.”

“Friend. Best friend,” Rachel interjected. “But yes, I made it clear how important Cole is to me. And now we’re all here! Isn’t this wonderful?”

“Wonderful,” Cole replied, resisting the childish urge to punch “the one” in the face. He nodded toward the table and retook his seat, saying, “Glad to meet you, too, Andy. Up until a week ago, I hadn’t heard one word about you, so I’m sure you’ll understand my concern...and my questions. Seeing I’m ‘like a brother’ to Rachel, it’s my duty to look out for her welfare.”

Andrew scowled but didn’t immediately respond. He helped Rachel with her coat before removing his own. Once they were seated, he refocused on Cole. “Oh, I understand,” he said with a nuance of sarcasm. “I think this will be fun...getting to know each other. Don’t you?”

Rachel glanced at Cole and then at Andrew and then back to Cole, her eyes beseeching him to ease the awkwardness, rather than edging it on.

“Absolutely.” Cole lifted his coffee mug in a faux toast, deciding he’d give Andrew one more chance at playing nice. For Rachel’s sake.

But if “the one” continued to push at Cole’s buttons, he’d pony up and meet him at the gaming table. Even if he didn’t, Cole now knew he was in this for the duration. Somewhere in between seeing Rachel and having her in his arms, he’d made a decision. He was done waiting for the right time, the right words, the right moment, or the right anything.

This was war.

* * *

Well, that had been a rocky start.

Rachel Merriday leaned back in her seat to wait as Cole and Andrew went to get their coffees. Would they find a way to get along? Certainly, once Andrew realized he had no reason to be envious of Cole, he would relax. Cole, she knew, had simply responded to Andrew’s slight antagonistic attitude, and when that ended, would be more than happy to meet him halfway.

Or so she hoped.

The two had a lot in common, not that either one of the stubborn fools would believe that on her say-so alone. While they didn’t look alike in any way whatsoever, they were both handsome, virile men. Where Cole was dark—black hair, deep brown eyes and what Rachel described as caramel-coated skin, Andrew was light—ash-blond hair, steely gray eyes and a bordering-on-fair complexion that was more like her own.

Each was tall and fit, but also in different ways. Cole had the look of an athlete, lean and naturally strong. Andrew’s slightly more muscular physique came from hours spent in the gym each week and a rigorous low-fat, low-calorie, low-everything diet. But, yes. Both handsome. Both virile. Both sexy as all get-out.

No woman alive could deny that. Or, Rachel amended, no sane woman.

The real similarity between them, though, existed beneath their skin. Sure, Andrew tended to be more serious than Cole, but his heart was just as big, just as sincere, just as honorable. They were protectors. Guardians, really, of the people they loved. It was that trait in particular that had first drawn her to Andrew.

Continued to draw her, if she were to be completely honest.

But was she ready to settle down and have babies with him? She didn’t know, couldn’t quite get there, couldn’t yet take the leap from wanting to believing to being. The idea of marrying the wrong person petrified her. The thought of having children in a loveless marriage pushed her into a blacker realm of fear.

She knew all too well what that did to a kid, to the adult that kid became. No. Rachel couldn’t—wouldn’t—make the same mistakes her parents had. Incessant arguing behind closed doors, portraying the happy, perfect couple—family—at public events, using their child to wage war against the other.

Pretending. Faking it. Smiling when you wanted to cry, scream, stomp your feet, or...yeah, run away. As far and as fast as your legs could carry you.

Even so, as crazy as it sounded, Rachel yearned for love and everything that came with finding the right man. She wanted a family, dammit. She wanted grocery shopping and carpools, fat babies who would become mouthy teenagers, school bake sales and PTA meetings, picnics and backyard barbecues, and she wanted all of that with a man who loved her senseless.

Almost without thought, her eyes landed on Cole, and her heart sort of liquefied and slid to her knees. She’d screwed up there, she knew. And that screw-up had possibly caused her to lose out on something amazing. Maybe even something life-altering.

They were okay now, mostly, she thought. But her regret lived on. And that was why, despite her misgivings, she refused to run away from Andrew. The fear curdling in her belly, keeping her awake at night whenever she considered a future with Andrew, was the same exact fear that had propelled her to run away from her sole regret.

From Cole.

Rachel pushed out a ragged sigh. Her friendship with Cole made more sense than a lost opportunity, and was certainly far more important than a relationship that had never existed. Their friendship was real. Solid. Lasting. That brief flame so long ago? Meaningless.

Of course being here would stir up old memories. One year ago, she’d had all these possibilities in her head when Cole had asked her to visit for the holidays. But he’d made it clear—crystal, even—that it was their friendship he valued, had missed. Not the other.

And then Andrew had walked into her life and dazzled her with his charm and sweetness. With the traits that reminded her of Cole, and those that didn’t. He desired her. He talked about making a life together. That was real. That was solid. Was it lasting? Maybe.

That was what this trip was really about. She felt sure she could find a way to be head over heels with Andrew by Christmas, here in her favorite city, with an up-close and personal reminder of what she’d lost due to fear.

All she had to do was relax and stop thinking—analyzing—so much, open her heart and let herself take the tumble. How hard could it be?

Feeling somewhat calmer, Rachel tried to catch the men’s attention by gesturing toward the restrooms. Cole noticed, smiled and nodded, and returned to talking with Andrew. She waited for Andrew to glance her way, but he didn’t.

He was too focused on Cole, on whatever Cole was saying. Maybe, without her presence, they’d found some common ground. She hoped so. Otherwise, the next few weeks were going to be even tougher than she’d expected. And that... Well, that wouldn’t help her cause at all.


Chapter Two

Rachel took her time freshening up, needing a few minutes of privacy to settle her churning emotions. When she returned to the table, the men were waiting silently with rigid shoulders and hard, stony jaws. Okay, so that was a no to them finding some common ground.

She slid into place next to Andrew and wrapped her hand around the whipped-cream, syrup-drizzled cappuccino sitting in front of her. Unsure of how to proceed, she sipped her coffee slowly, her mind thinking of and rejecting possible topics of conversation.

“This is so good,” she said, infusing brightness into her tone. “What did you two get?”

“Black coffee,” they both said at the same time, in identical flat inflections.

Aha! Common ground. Going with it, Rachel said, “Well, they have great coffee here.”

“They do.” Cole’s lips twitched into an almost grin. “Want me to get you some?”

“But I—”

“Because what you’re drinking,” Andrew said matter-of-factly, “isn’t coffee.”

Cole’s grin widened a hair. “Nope. What you have there, Rachel, is dessert.”

“Wow, like minds and all that.” Rachel took another hefty swallow of her “dessert,” and said, “Is this one of those ‘real men don’t eat quiche’ sort of things? Or in this case, real men don’t drink fancy coffees?”

“Nah. I like quiche.” Cole picked up a napkin, leaned across the table and wiped the corner of Rachel’s mouth. The touch was quick and effortless, but a flood of warmth overtook her just the same. “A little whipped cream was...er...anyway, it’s gone now.”

She felt more than saw Andrew stiffen beside her. In another second, his arm was cradled over her shoulders. He tipped her chin toward him and kissed her. Also quick. Also effortless.

“There. Now it’s all gone.” Andrew settled into his prior position, keeping his arm snug around her. “I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable, Kyle. She’s just so kissable, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Not at all,” Cole said with a good ole boy grin and a laidback shrug. “Nothing there to feel embarrassed about. Why, I’ve given my mother the same type of affectionate peck in public on more than one occasion.” He winked at Rachel. “My sister, too, now that I think about it.”

“Didn’t say I was embarrassed.” Andrew shifted an inch closer to Rachel. “Some people dislike public displays of affection. I belatedly thought you might be one of them.”

“Nope.” Again with the shrug. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“Wow, is it cold outside!” Rachel blurted before Andrew could respond. She faked a shiver. “So...cold. I still haven’t warmed up from the...um...short walk here from the car.”

“We could be in Hawaii right now, sipping mai tais by the ocean.” Andrew kissed Rachel again, this time on the top of her head. “If you’re having second thoughts, we could be on a plane tomorrow. All you have to do is say the word.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. Rachel understood why. She and Cole had made plans before Andrew had asked to join her...which he hadn’t done until after Rachel had refused to cancel this visit to go with him to Hawaii.

She guessed Andrew saw that as choosing Cole over him, but that wasn’t the case. Not really. Mostly, it was about going home for the holidays. Because in many ways, Steamboat Springs was the closest she’d ever had to a real home.

Due to Cole and his family, though, not hers.

“I’m not having second thoughts, but I like the idea of going to Hawaii for your birthday in May. If you still want to.”

“Of course I do.” Andrew’s voice was smooth. “I simply wanted to give you the option, now that you’ve seen your friend.”

“Thank you, but I’m good. And we’ll have fun here!” She patted Andrew’s arm. “You’ll soon see why I love Steamboat Springs so much, especially at Christmas.”

“You’ve never been here before, Andy?” Cole relaxed in his seat, looking for all the world as a man completely at ease. “Odd, but I swore I recognized you when you walked in. A lot of people come through here every year...thought maybe you’d vacationed with an ex-girlfriend. Or, perhaps, an ex-wife?”

Good grief. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. “Andrew doesn’t have any ex-wives.”

“And I never will. I don’t believe in divorce.”

“Who does? I doubt anyone marries believing they’ll divorce,” Cole said in a conversational, let’s-get-to-know-each-other manner. “But divorce happens. Sometimes, folks marry too young, pick the wrong person, make mistakes in the heat of the moment. Sometimes, a relationship becomes so messy that divorce becomes the only option that makes any sense.”

He spoke from experience. His brother Dylan was divorced. In his case, they were married too young, she cheated and became pregnant, and ran off with the other guy. So while Rachel didn’t believe in divorce, either, she agreed with Cole’s take.

Heck, she’d be the first to stand up and cheer if her parents untied the matrimonial knot.

“You’re right, but only to a point. A lot of those scenarios can be written off as the result of poor decisions before a proposal is given...or accepted.” Andrew clasped her hand tightly in his. “When I put a ring on a woman’s finger, it will be forever.”

Cole leveled a weighted, questioning stare on Rachel. “Life can often be...unexpected. It’s how each person reacts to some of those moments that can make or break a relationship.” Pausing, he bent his head ever so slightly toward Andrew, but kept his sinfully dark eyes glued to hers. “You can analyze all you want, think every last thing through, and you still won’t know for sure until you’re in hip-deep. In my opinion, of course.”

The urge to squirm came on strong, but she ignored it. Was he referring to her littered-with-broken-relationships past, or was he sending her some type of a hidden message regarding Andrew? Darn if she knew. For not the first time in Rachel’s life, she wished she could read Cole’s thoughts.

“Anyway,” she said, drawing the word out slowly, “Andrew hasn’t been to this part of Colorado before, so I have a lot to show him. I can’t wait to take him skiing.”

One of Cole’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at Andrew. “Is that so? Are you a skier?”

“No, I’m not. But—”

“Snowboarding, then?”

“No,” Andrew repeated. “I’ve skied before, naturally, but my skill level is that of a beginner. But for Rachel, I’m willing to give the sport another try.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Cole said, “That’s good. Rachel loves to ski...snowboard...ice skate.” Pure pleasure gleamed in his voice, in his eyes. “And, going back to your earlier comment, sharing the same interests is important in any successful relationship. Again, in my opinion.”

Andrew sat up straighter. “Which is why I’m excited to give the sport another try. As I said.”

“Well, what you said,” Cole drawled, “was that you were willing to try. Not quite the same as excited.”

She was, maybe, three seconds away from clobbering them both. Right on top of their manly heads. “There are lots of interests that Andrew and I share. We bike, go to the gym...um...horses! I love horseback riding and Andrew is an excellent horseman. He grew up on a ranch in Texas.”

“That’s great to hear. Plenty of horseback riding to have here in Colorado. I still think, though—” Cole broke off and scratched his jaw “—I know! How about if we pick a day and hit the bunny slope, Andrew? We can go over the basics, get you up to speed, as it were.”

“I can handle a bit more than the bunny slope,” Andrew replied in a dry manner. “And frankly, I’d rather have my girlfriend as my teacher. I think of it as one more way for us to grow closer. Which is, after all, an important aspect of this visit.”

Cole glanced at Rachel and her frisson of alarm escalated. She knew that expression. It meant trouble with a capital T. Darn it all, what had he latched on to now? She reached toward him, intent on grabbing his arm to divert his attention, but he leaned away before she could get a proper hold. Her fingers skimmed against his skin and the mere touch sent a bolt of heady awareness through her body, startling her with its strength.

“Wow, guys. I’m sorry to hear that. I mean,” he said with a slow, methodical beat, “if you need a vacation to grow closer, something must not be going well. Let me know if I can be of any help...anything at all, just say the word.”

“Our relationship is fine,” Andrew snapped. “If there were problems, I wouldn’t assume a vacation could fix them.”

“We’re absolutely fine!” Rachel said a good deal louder than necessary. Andrew’s declaration stung, though. She had, indeed, brought Andrew with her in the hopes the time away, the time together, would erase her reservations. “Just fine.”

“Ah, hell. I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.” Cole held his hands up, gesturing a truce. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure you guys are...fine. Just as you’ve both said.”

Itchy with frustration and nerves, Rachel did the only thing she could think of: she changed the subject. Again. “How’s business at the store this year, Cole?”

“Same as always during the winter months” was his quick, humor-ridden, reply. “Lots of folks in and out. Between rentals and new sales, classes, and private lessons, we’re doing well.”

Andrew tightened his hold on Rachel’s shoulder. “That’s right. You work for your parents now. I hear you were quite the skier in your day, so I’d imagine the unexpected, even traumatic, change in careers could feel...stifling? Limiting, perhaps?”

Whoa. Rachel pulled out of Andrew’s grasp, shocked by his words, his rudeness and his insinuation. He was never like this, never purposely hurtful to anyone. Jealous or not, uncomfortable or not, he’d gone too far.

“You don’t understand how the Foster family functions, Andrew,” she said. “Cole and his siblings are an integral part of the family-owned businesses. They manage, work and own them together. Isn’t that right, Cole?”

“That’s correct,” Cole answered, still appearing more amused than anything else. “But no, Andrew, there isn’t anything stifling about the arrangement. I’m grateful to my folks for what their hard work and commitment has provided me and my brothers and sister with.”

After a lengthy pause, Andrew combed his fingers through his short hair and sighed. “My comment was uncalled for. I apologize.”

“No harm done,” Cole said with ease. “My family is exceedingly close. Sometimes, a bit too close, but we are what we are and I wouldn’t want anything to change.”

“That’s important,” Andrew said, his voice almost gruff. “My family...isn’t as close. You’re a lucky man.”

In a heartbeat, Rachel forgave Andrew for his jab. Something had happened to put distance between him and his family. She didn’t know the details, but she knew he missed them.

“I am lucky,” Cole agreed. “In many ways.”

“I consider myself fortunate, as well, for finding Rachel.” Andrew exhaled a breath, and when he spoke again, she heard the man she’d been dating for the past few months instead of the stranger he’d become upon meeting Cole. “Are you seeing anyone special, Cole?”

Every one of Rachel’s knotted muscles relaxed. The posturing was finally over, thank goodness and hallelujah. Maybe now, the two men would find some true common ground.

She waited for Cole to answer Andrew’s question, but when he didn’t, she did for him, saying, “Nope. Cole isn’t dating anyone.”

After all, Cole would’ve told her if he’d met someone. He always had in the past. And in truth, Cole rarely dated. It was something she used to tease him about, way back when.

A prickle of apprehension appeared at the nape of her neck a millisecond before Cole said, “Actually, Rach...I’ve been meaning to tell you—” He paused, locked his vision with hers and thrummed his fingers against the table. The rat-a-tat-tat beat mimicked the pounding of her heart. “There is someone in my life. Someone special.”

No way. She must have heard him wrong. “You’re seeing someone? Someone...special? Really?”

One by one, each muscle in her body tensed again as she waited, as she tried to come to grips with the possibility that Cole was involved in a serious relationship. With someone special, someone important.

Someone who wasn’t her.

“Yes,” he said firmly, still looking directly, almost intensely, at her. “There is an important woman in my life. She might even be—no, she definitely is—the one for me.”

“Okay.” Rachel swallowed and tried to push past the nausea that had crawled into her throat. Why did this bother her so much? They were friends. She’d accepted that and had moved on. She shouldn’t care. At all. “Well, that’s...great news! Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Of course, she hadn’t mentioned Andrew until a week ago, so who was she to throw stones? Relationships were private. Cole was a private man. He had the right to keep anything to himself for as long as he chose. Solid logic, but his secrecy bugged her. A lot.

Cole shrugged. “You’re hearing about her now, and—” Andrew’s cell phone buzzed, stopping Cole short.

“I need to take this,” Andrew said after glancing at the display. He stood. “Excuse me for a minute.”

She watched Andrew step away from the table. Refocusing on Cole, she said, “Go on. What’s her name? And what do you mean she’s the one for you? When...um, when did you meet her?”

“None of that’s important right now.” Cole angled his body toward her, so they were eye to eye, and clasped Rachel’s hands in his. The heat of his touch didn’t come close to thawing her sudden chill. “I’m a goner, Rachel. I’ve fallen in love and there’s no looking back.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“What do you think?”

Rachel stared into the eyes she knew so well. Eyes she’d seen filled with almost every emotion in the book. And now, she saw something intense and passionate lurking in the depths, along with a desperation that made her heart ache. In other words, she saw love.

Every instinct she had wanted to deny what she saw, but she couldn’t. “I think I have to meet the woman who finally captured Cole Foster’s heart,” Rachel whispered in shock. “I never thought...never...” She blinked. “Well, isn’t this terrific? I’m so happy for you.”

Leaning in closer, Cole plopped a friendly—brotherly—kiss on her cheek before easing away again. “You’re with Andrew and think he might be the one. I’ve fallen in love with someone I know is the one. I have a hunch,” he said with a wink, “that this Christmas will be very memorable.”

“Right. Memorable.” That was one description.

“You look a little pale, Rach. Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, yes! I’m just...tired.” She gulped another large mouthful of coffee. “You know how traveling is.”

“I do.”

She tried to think of something, anything, to say to fill the gap, but couldn’t. Cole was in love. That was fine! Of course it was. She had Andrew, for crying out loud. “Um. Andrew should be back any minute,” she mumbled. “That was probably a business call.”

“Business on vacation, huh? He must be dedicated.”

“He is. He... I know he wasn’t on his best behavior at first,” she said, suddenly finding it very important to build up Andrew. For her sake or for Cole’s, she didn’t know. Even so. “But he really is a great guy.”

“I’m sure he is,” Cole agreed.

“Just...give him a chance before deciding you don’t like him. That’s all I ask.”

“I can do that. He took me off guard with that Kyle crap, but it’s obvious he cares a lot about you. The fact he does, and makes no bones about it, goes a long way for me.”

“So...are you saying you approve?”

“You don’t need my approval, Rach,” Cole said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Rachel shook her head, still trying to clear cobwebs. “Yeah. Of course I do.”

Cole beamed a smile. “Just like I don’t need yours.”

“Right. No approval necessary.” She sucked in a breath, taking the air in so deep it almost hurt. “But I’d like to meet your...girlfriend. I mean, if she’s going to be a part of your life...”

“I’d like that, too. Unfortunately, Cupcake—that’s what I call her—is a little shy. Might take some time, convincing her to agree to an introduction.” Pausing, Cole closed his eyes as if thinking something through. “Maybe if it were just you at that first meeting, that would be okay. Less...intimidating than introducing her to you and Andrew at the same time.”

“Sure,” she said without thought. Cupcake? He called her Cupcake? Cole didn’t do terms of endearment. Or he never had before. “Andrew can stay at the house.”

“He won’t mind?” The concerned pretense from earlier returned. “Gee, I don’t know about that. I’d hate to cause problems while you’re trying to...repair your relationship.”

“We’re fine, we’re not—” Screw it. Let him think what he wanted. Besides, he wasn’t wholly off base, even if Andrew hadn’t yet arrived at that realization. “That isn’t an issue.”

“I’d also hate to upset him by taking up too much of your time,” Cole said in complete and utter sincerity. “From what I gathered, Andrew appears to have a jealous nature.”

“Now that Andrew is aware you’re in love with another woman,” Rachel said, nearly choking on the admittance, on the reality of the situation, “I expect the jealousy to fade.”

Cole hesitated, as if mulling over the idea. Finally, he nodded. “Well, then, I’ll set something up. Just try to keep your schedule open. Convincing my Cupcake to step out of her shell won’t be all that easy. And while she isn’t impatient, exactly, once she makes her mind up about something, she can be rather determined.”

“What is she? Shy or bossy?” Rachel said the words that popped into her head, even though she probably shouldn’t have. “Because by your definition, she’s both, and honestly, I haven’t met very many people who fall into both categories.”

“Let’s call her...complicated. That’s a good word to describe this particular woman.”

“Complicated?” She snapped her mouth shut and silently counted to ten. Cole jumping through hoops to please some shy, determined, complicated woman didn’t sound encouraging. It was annoying. And the image, the very thought of it, rubbed Rachel in all the wrong ways. “I already don’t like this woman,” she muttered.

“What’s that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Gripping her coffee cup so hard that her knuckles ached, Rachel forced her mouth to move into a smile. “I said that I can’t wait to meet this woman.”

“I knew you’d be excited for me.” Cole reached over to tug a lock of Rachel’s hair, just as she’d seen him do a thousand times to his sister, Haley. “Thank you for being such a wonderful friend.”

“Forever friends,” she said, using their childhood phrase. As the words left her lips, the last bit of hope—hope she hadn’t known still existed until that second—fizzled out.

Suddenly, she sort of wished she’d chosen Hawaii.

* * *

An hour later, Cole watched Andrew and Rachel leave the coffee shop, unsure of what, exactly, had propelled him to create a pretend girlfriend. The touching had irritated him, though he didn’t have the right to be irritated. Andrew’s posturing had, surprisingly, been more amusing than infuriating. Well, except for the comment about Cole’s career.

Even so, he hadn’t reacted to the push—Rachel had done that for him—and Andrew’s apology had seemed sincere. At that point, the tension emanating from Andrew had lessened, and Cole saw a glimmer of the real man Rachel had brought with her to Steamboat Springs. And damn if he didn’t begin to like him...just a little.

Cole certainly had no intention of making up a woman—a special woman, no less—when Andrew had then asked about his relationship status. But Rachel stepped in, answered in the negative, and that—yep, that was what had done it—had compelled Cole to lie. She’d been so sure, so damn positive in her response, that Cole had wanted to shake her up and prove that she didn’t know every microscopic detail about him or his life.

The maneuver had worked, too. If Cole was a betting man, he’d have wagered cold, hard cash that she’d turned green with envy over his declaration.

If she was in love with another man, why would she care if Cole was seeing someone? She wouldn’t. Or, he corrected, she shouldn’t. By the way her skin had paled a good two shades and her stunned expression, not to mention the wobbly state of her voice, Cole had to believe she did, indeed, care. He couldn’t deny his satisfaction over that.

But he’d lied, and that bothered him. So now he had to decide what to do about the fabrication. Confess the truth or keep the pretense in play? Hell. Lying didn’t sit well with him, but Rachel’s reaction, especially her whispered statement, “I already don’t like this woman,” egged him on, teasing him with the possibilities of what both could mean.

Cole stood, waved goodbye to Lola and headed out into the December night, thinking through those possibilities. What he’d said wasn’t a complete untruth: there was a special woman in his life. A woman he loved, a woman he saw himself quite capable of spending the rest of his days with, having children with, growing old with and every last thing that entailed.

Rachel, of course.

A plan, crystal clear in its clarity, formed in Cole’s mind. He could use his real feelings for Rachel, along with what she believed to be true, and enlist her help in wooing “the woman of his dreams.” If Rachel was jealous, if she did hold more than friendship for him in her heart, wouldn’t that be enough to propel her to act? Maybe.

Or it could backfire. Send her scurrying even deeper into Andrew’s arms, into a future with him, and—like she’d done before—away from Cole. But hell, what did he have to lose?

If he did nothing, he’d gain nothing.

The snow still fell as he walked toward the sports store, where his truck was parked on the street out front, and a magical—dare he say, Christmassy—feeling wove in and wiped out his inner Grinch. He had to try. Had to see if he could resurrect the flame between them.

And if he couldn’t? If Rachel loved Andrew, if he made her happy, then nothing Cole did would change that. But maybe, if luck was with him, the process would allow him to put the past to rest. So he could move on and get Rachel out of his head.

Once and for all.


Chapter Three

Rachel finished loading the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes and faced Andrew, who had just returned to the kitchen after taking a phone call. “What do you want to do today? The snow’s falling a little too thick for skiing, but we could walk around the town, take in the sights, look for a tree...do some Christmas shopping. Whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but that was the office,” Andrew said, gesturing toward his cell. “There are some issues with a potential client that will likely require my attention.”

“Oh.” Rachel fought off her disappointment. Andrew owned a management consulting firm, and she was already well-versed in the putting-plans-on-hold department. He was busy, traveled extensively and rarely made it through a meal, let alone an entire day, without an interruption. “Well, you warned me this would be a working vacation. Is it serious?”

“Maybe. Too soon to tell yet, but we should probably—”

“Stay in today,” Rachel finished his sentence for him. “That’s fine! We can dig out the Christmas decorations, so they’re ready to go when we find a tree, watch some old movies, play a board game.” An idea occurred to her. A nice, homey, tradition-filled idea. “Hey! Feel like baking some sugar cutouts?”

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Approaching her, Andrew dropped his phone on the counter and pulled her into a hug. “You’ve never given me grief over my job, over the demands placed on our relationship because of it. I appreciate that in you, Rachel.”

“I’m glad you’ve noticed,” she joked, standing up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his cheek. “Because sometimes, your job is a pain in the butt.”

“I know it seems that way, especially since your schedule is typically so clear,” he said, referring to Rachel’s careerless life. “But the company is in a crucial period right now. We’re growing fast, which is good, but I have to ascertain we’re able to sustain the growth, see to our existing client base, bring new clients on board, all while expanding and training staff.”

His comment burned, a little, even though she knew he hadn’t meant any harm. She kept herself busy enough with her parents’ social events, where her attendance was deemed mandatory, charitable causes and their functions—of which, there were plenty, and the odd class here and there, when something pulled at her interest.

But Andrew was right. Her schedule was infinitely clearer than his.

“I understand all of that, Andrew, which is why I don’t give you grief.” She appreciated his appreciation, but she’d enjoy his undivided attention a bit more. Especially now, on their first full day in Steamboat Springs. “So...what will it be? Cookies, decorations, games or a movie?”

“Cookies sound—” Andrew jerked to grab his phone, but it wasn’t his cell buzzing. It was Rachel’s “—delicious. Go ahead and get that. I’ll search the cupboards for ingredients.”

Nodding, Rachel answered without looking at the display.

“Hey there, Rach. How’s your morning treating you?” Cole asked, jovial as all get-out.

The sound of his voice—the rich, deep ring of it—sank in like butter melting on a hot, fresh-off-the-griddle pancake. That, along with his upbeat mood, caused her attitude to dip another degree. Still, she kept her tone chipper when she said, “Wonderful. How’s yours?”

“Good. Real good, in fact.” Someone said something on his end that she couldn’t quite catch, but she heard enough to know the speaker was female. Was it her? The complicated, shy-yet-determined Cupcake? “Haley says hi,” Cole said. “And wants to know if you have any clothes you’re angling to give away.”

Haley. Cole’s sister, not his girlfriend.

Rachel laughed, in relief and in humor. Last year, when Haley had stopped by for a visit, she’d raided Rachel’s closet, oohing and ahing at the designer labels. She’d been so excited, Rachel had given her a boxful of outfits: dresses, shirts, pants and a couple of jackets.

Rachel didn’t need them. Her mother shopped to show her love...and she shopped a lot. Which, Rachel supposed, said something. “Tell Haley to stop by whenever,” she said. “My closet is her closet.”

Cole relayed the information. Haley squealed and jabbered something else. Rachel smiled even broader. She adored Cole’s family. For a long while, when she was younger, she’d pretend they were her family. Her parents, her brothers, her sister.

Well, except for Cole. She’d never thought of him as her brother.

“Believe it or not, the reason for my call has nothing to do with my sister’s fetish for clothes,” Cole said, returning his attention to Rachel. “If you’re available—and I’ll understand if you’re not, seeing this is last minute—I thought we could meet up for lunch.”

“Lunch? Today?” Andrew, she saw, had found the flour and sugar. She pointed toward the cupboard that held the mixing bowls. “As in, you and I? Or will your significant other be joining us?” No way, no how would she resort to calling a stranger “Cupcake.”

“I believe she will be present, yes.”

“Really? That fast? I thought you said it would take some time to convince her to meet me. Since she’s so shy and all. Or did I misunderstand you?”

“What can I say? Women are a mystery. Just when I think I have one figured out, they veer off course and I have to start from scratch.” Exhaling a short, noisy sigh, Cole continued, “I gotta say, Rachel, you females are a confusing lot. Say one thing when you mean another. Speak in code half the damn time, and usually, we poor men are left in the dark.”

“Uh-huh. You ‘poor men’ rule the world, rarely call a girl when you say you’re going to, and usually, leave us poor women wondering what we did wrong to elicit such behavior...and scrambling to figure out what we can do to fix it.”

“Sweetheart,” Cole said in that drawling way of his, “the perception might be that men rule the world, but the facts are that women rule the men. Your team has the upper hand in every negotiation with my team. Ask Andrew if you don’t believe me.”

“I’ll do that.” Huh. If that were the case, then why did Rachel forever feel as if she were on the losing team? “Later. But only if you ask your sister.”

“Deal. I’ll be interested in hearing his take,” Cole said with a chuckle. “About lunch?”

“Well...” Rachel stalled, unsure if she was prepared to meet Cole’s Cupcake just yet. “Andrew and I are baking cookies and we might...um...bake a lot. So not really sure if today—”

“Go, Rachel,” Andrew said, pausing his search of her cupboards. “I’ll probably be tied up soon enough with work, anyway. I’m sure we can get at least one batch of cookies baked first.”

“One sec,” she said to Cole. Then, covering the phone with her hand, said to Andrew, “Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Lunch with Cole and his girlfriend, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure.” He opened a drawer and discovered the measuring spoons. “You can get out of the house for a bit and I can focus on my job without feeling guilty. Seems like a win-win situation. On all accounts.”

“Right. Win-win.” Discouraged and, not that she’d admit it, somewhat annoyed, Rachel nodded and put the phone next to her ear. “Lunch is fine, Cole. When and where? Foster’s?” she asked, referring to the family-owned restaurant and pub. Where else would they go?

“No,” Cole said after the briefest of pauses. “Let’s go to Dee’s Deli. Say one o’clock?”

“Um. Sure. I’ll see you then.” Hanging up, Rachel smiled absently at Andrew, who was now organizing the items he’d placed on the counter. It was cute. And...homey. “All set.”

“Good. Are you excited to meet Cole’s better half?”

“I’m more interested than excited. As far as her being his better half? I’d say that remains to be seen.” Her irrational irritation at the whole mess broke free with, “He calls her Cupcake. Cupcake! Isn’t that ridiculous? She isn’t a toy poodle, for crying out loud.”

“Perhaps she resembles a toy poodle, hence the nickname?”

“What?” Rachel tried to picture that possibility and came up blank. “You mean if she’s petite and has curly hair? Or...I don’t know, Andrew. How can a woman resemble a poodle?”

“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?”

“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 so soon after her body had darn near melted.

Once again, he entwined his arm with hers. He slowed their pace down to that of a leisurely stroll. In a voice dripping with laughter, he said, “Oh, you have, and you’re right, I absolutely owe you. What’s your price?”

“We can start with ‘Cupcake’s’ first name,” Rachel said as they approached the local elementary school. Hmm. If they were having lunch here, did that mean Cole’s girlfriend was a teacher? “It’s becoming tiresome referring to her as a baked confection...or the generic ‘her’ or ‘she.’ So what gives, Cole? What’s her name?”

“Driving you crazy that you don’t know, isn’t it? There,” Cole said, nodding toward and then leading them in the direction of the school playground. “I’ll brush the snow off one of the benches and we can get settled.”

“Cole!” Rachel said, exasperated, and okay, a little crazy. “What. Is. Her. Name?”

“Uh-huh, driving you crazy. I bet,” he said slowly, “you’re coming up with all these excuses why I haven’t told you yet. One of them is probably that my family doesn’t approve.”

“Do they?”

“They like her just fine, Rachel.” He shrugged, causing a lock of black hair to fall on his forehead. Her fingers itched with the want to stroke it back into place. “But I can’t tell you her name.”

“You...can’t tell me your girlfriend’s name?” Rachel yanked her arm out of Cole’s and settled her hands on her hips. “Why in the world wouldn’t you be able to give me such basic information about the woman you’re seeing?”

“Why do you do that?” he asked instead of answering. “Repeat my statement in question form, as if ascertaining you heard me correctly? You know me well enough, or you should, to know I don’t say something unless I mean it.”

“Because what you’re saying is absurd.”

“Only because you don’t have the proper information.” Cole handed her the box of food. “Give me a minute here, and I’ll explain everything. Over lunch.”

It was a Thursday, but the playground was empty. Too cold and snowy for outdoor recess, apparently. Rachel shielded her eyes and turned in a circle, looking for the woman they were supposed to be meeting. No sign of Cupcake. Shouldn’t she be here by now?

“She isn’t here,” Rachel said, giving heed to the instinct she’d had ever since Cole’s phone call that morning. “She isn’t coming. She was never coming. Isn’t that right, Cole?”

Cole faced her, his expression serious. “No, she isn’t. I used meeting her as an excuse to give us some privacy, without Andrew’s presence.”

“I see.” Rachel counted to ten, slowly. “Why?”

“Because I need your help.”

“My help? What type of help?”

“See? You’re doing it again, making a question out of my statement.”

She tapped her foot once. Twice. And waited.

“It’s like this, Rachel.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “My mind is set on proposing to this woman I love, on Christmas day. But I’m experiencing some...let’s call them difficulties, in getting her to see our relationship the way I do. I need your help in romancing her, priming her, so to speak, so she’ll say yes.”

“Proposing? As in...marriage?” Rachel whispered, not caring in the least that she’d rephrased his statement as a question. “As in, this Christmas?”

“That’s my goal. And that’s why I can’t, or won’t, tell you her name. I want someone who doesn’t have any preconceived notions about...Cupcake.” He paused, as if weighing his words. The corners of his mouth curved into a tiny grin. “Yep, that’s what I need. Someone who can be objective in their advice, based on what I see in this woman, in what I tell them.”

Rachel swallowed, backed out of his hold. “And you’re afraid that if I know her name, I’ll...what? Somehow learn something about her that will hinder my ability to...help you woo her? By the simple virtue of having her name?”

“Exactly! Why, you might accidentally bump into her at the Beanery, or at Foster’s. If you don’t know her name, you won’t know it’s her, see what I’m getting at? Or you might hear some folks chatting, and if her name came up, you’d be all over that.” His smile widened in smug satisfaction, as if he were extraordinarily pleased with his explanation. “This way, you have to rely on the information I give you, so your viewpoint will be the same as mine.”

“I see.”

“I knew you would.” Cole grabbed Rachel’s hand and squeezed tight. “This woman is special. Every detail needs to be right. Just right. She deserves so much more than she knows, and I want to be the one to give her everything. And more.”

Wow. Just...wow.

“I guess I don’t understand,” Rachel somehow managed to say. “If you love her, and she loves you, why do you need any help? Especially mine?”

Turning away, Cole brushed the snow off the bench and gestured for her to sit. She didn’t. Just kept her mouth shut and waited for him to answer her question.

“She’s had...some problems with a few of her past relationships. And a rocky childhood, I guess you’d say. She has all these barriers because of both.” Cole shifted his gaze away from hers. “I’m afraid if I’m not careful, she’ll bolt. I can’t let that happen, Rach.”

“Oh.” His logic clicked solidly into place with a sickening thud. A tremble passed through her, and then another, before she found the courage to voice the obvious. “Her past sounds a lot like my past, doesn’t it, Cole?”

He nodded.

“So from your perspective, we’re both impatient, complicated women who share similar issues.” Moisture appeared behind Rachel’s eyes, threatening tears. She blinked them away. Fast. “That’s why you want my help in particular, correct? Because you think I’ll somehow have an inside track into how to get around these specific barriers?”

“That and the fact you’re my best friend.”

“Right. Best friend.” Well, at least he was honest. The throbbing in her temples returned. “I... This is a surprise.”

Cole watched her with a speculative gleam. The tense set of his shoulders, his jaw, his very stance declared how important this was to him. “I don’t need an answer right now,” he said. “I know I’m asking a lot, especially since this could potentially steal time you’d planned on having with Andrew. Ask whatever you want, take however long you need.”

Closing her eyes, Rachel tried to rationalize a way she could gracefully decline. She could use the Andrew excuse he’d just given her, but honestly, based on the happenings that morning, she felt fairly sure the majority of Andrew’s vacation would be claimed by work.

She could just say no. Simply state the prospect made her uncomfortable. Oh, God. This was...unthinkable. Her chest tightened with pressure and her throat closed. She so didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to help Cole—a man she’d once hoped would be her man—romance another woman into marrying him.

So, yes, she could say no. Should say no. But she’d left him once before when he’d needed her. Had taken off due to fear and complications and a host of other issues she’d never fully explained. Issues she still didn’t completely understand herself. She’d hurt him. Heck, she’d hurt them...not only what might have been, but their friendship.

No. She wouldn’t do that again. Despite how difficult this might be, she couldn’t turn her back on his plea. In that second, in no more than a single beat of her heart, Rachel gave in and accepted her fate. Fully, this time. Cole Foster and Rachel Merriday were friends. Forever friends.

“Okay, then.” Opening her eyes, she infused cheery and merry into her tone with all of her might. “Let’s see what we can do about getting you engaged. We’ll call it—” she paused, took in a gulp of air to center herself “—my Christmas present to you.”

He came to her then, hugged her so hard that she lost the rest of her breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, the warmth of his body easing into hers. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Merry freaking Christmas, indeed.


Chapter Four

The second Cole returned to work that afternoon, he phoned his mother. With Rachel’s agreement in place, bringing his family into the picture became even more crucial. Fortunately, getting the entire Foster clan together on short notice hadn’t proved difficult. One small hint regarding his current personal dilemma had sufficed.

In no time at all, his mother had arranged a late dinner at Foster’s Pub and Grill, set for after the evening rush had ended. When Margaret Foster summoned her family, they came. No questions asked. Short of a local or national emergency, anyway.

Dinner had progressed smoothly enough, as Cole had kept the conversation firmly in the casual zone. Once the plates had been cleared and dessert served, unable to ignore the questioning glances from his mother and father any longer, he cleared his throat and dived in.

“So,” he said, “Rachel’s in town. She arrived yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Margaret asked with a small smile. “And how is Rachel?”

“Good. She’s...good.” Dang. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. “She brought a man with her. His name is Andrew and—” Cole cleared his throat again. “She mentioned that he might be thinking of proposing. I’m...ah...not too keen on that idea, actually.”

“Is that so?” his mom said again. “Why would that be?”

Five pairs of eyes regarded him curiously. A few of the gazes held amusement, as if they already knew Cole’s answer. Hell. Maybe they did.

“She barely knows him, for one thing.”

“Uh-huh. Any other reason?”

He was going to have to say it. He’d known that coming in, but that didn’t make the prospect any easier to choke down. “I’m in love with her,” he half growled. “That’s why.”

No one spoke for all of ten seconds. Then, “Is that so?” asked Cole’s father, Paul, repeating his wife’s words in an amused tone. “Can’t say that’s headlining news, son. We’ve known your feelings for Rachel for quite a while.”

Cole shook his head in mild exasperation, not really surprised. When had he ever been able to keep anything from his family? Not very often, and never for very long. “Well, in that case, maybe the rest of this will go easier.”

“The rest of what?” asked Reid, the eldest sibling. He, Cole knew, would be the hardest to convince. Reid followed the rules, all of them, whether the rules made a lick of sense or not.

“The rest of what I have to tell you.” At this point, Cole paused and sized up his family. He figured his best shot resided in Haley. His sister was a romantic, so convincing her shouldn’t be overly difficult. Even better, getting her on board would be a two-for-one deal, as Dylan—the middle brother—tended to side with Haley in most matters.

This was important. For decisions that required the entire family’s input, the Fosters followed the majority-vote-wins concept. Haley plus Dylan plus Cole was half of the battle won. Then, he’d only need to pull over his mother or father. It would likely be his mother, but with Paul Foster, you never could say for sure.

“It’s like this,” Cole said, focusing on Haley. “I believe that Rachel might have...similar feelings for me. I can’t let her marry another man without finding out if I’m right. But Rachel is stubborn and...well, to counteract that, I did something. And now I need help to see it through.”

Cole continued on, explaining what had occurred at the Beanery, and then earlier that day at the picnic. Haley’s mouth softened into a gooey smile the longer he talked, which was a positive sign, while Reid’s hardened into an uncompromising frown, which wasn’t. Though, Cole hadn’t expected anything else from his never-color-outside-of-the-lines big brother.

What he didn’t say, or even broach upon, was his lingering concerns over Rachel’s ability to commit, or his back-and-forth thoughts and feelings regarding her departure after his accident. Neither topic was up for public debate. They were issues for he and Rachel alone to discuss.

And they would, one way or another. Doing so was an integral part of his plan, just as important as discerning her feelings and determining if they could have the future he envisioned. But he had to proceed slowly, carefully. And he had to start somewhere.

Not one member of his family interrupted him as he spoke. He supposed they were balancing his words with what they knew about him, about Rachel. By the time he finished, his throat felt parched and heat had gathered on the back of his neck. He loved his family. He’d relied on them throughout the worst moments of his life. He trusted them.

But damn if this didn’t feel as if he’d just stripped naked in front of them. Difficult, yes. Also, though, humbling and far too revealing for his peace of his mind.




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