Cole's Christmas Wish (10 page)

He was like that. Steadfast and sure.

For the first time since learning of Cole’s relationship with
Mary, Rachel felt, if not happy, grateful that he’d found someone. She only
hoped that Mary was the woman Cole deserved, the woman that Rachel should have
been when he’d needed her the most.

It no longer mattered that Rachel had changed, that she
wouldn’t make the same mistakes today. Now, all she could do was focus on the
future. She looked up, saw that Andrew had reached the car and had turned
around, searching for her.

She waved and started walking toward him, toward a possible
future that would include warmth and contentment, dinner-table negotiations
and...well, very little skiing. It wasn’t hard to imagine creating a nice,
uncomplicated life with Andrew. They’d do well together.

But would it be enough? She’d like to think so. She really,
really would. Somehow, though, she doubted that would be the case. She wanted
more. And more meant...
more
. It meant knowing, to
the very depths of your being, that you were with exactly the right person, and
that you were exactly the right person for him.

Andrew was a great guy, yes. But no, she couldn’t say—now
understood she would
never
say—that he was exactly
the right man for her. Only one man held that role. And...well, the fact that
he’d found happiness with someone else didn’t alter the truth of Rachel’s life.
Of what she wanted, dreamed for. Of what she refused to give up on.

She couldn’t have Cole. Fine. She’d find a way to accept that
depressing reality and move on, even if that possibility seemed ludicrous and
impossible. But if she settled, if she surrendered her dreams in lieu of a
sufficient life,
she
would never be happy.

Andrew deserved more, as well.

Oh, God
. Was she really going to do
this? Had she, in mere minutes, made a firm, final decision regarding her
relationship with Andrew? She stopped again, breathed and started forward. Yes.
As insane as it was, she had.

She reached the car where Andrew waited, considered putting off
the conversation until after they’d spent their day together, but that
seemed...wrong. For both of them.

Fine lines appeared in his brow as he appraised her. “I take it
we’re going to the house,” he said with a small sigh. “Instead of tree shopping
and Christmas decorating?”

Common sense, the basic need for survival, almost had her
refuting his instincts, but images of a future she didn’t want flipped through
her mind, strengthening
her
instincts, and
therefore, her decision. “That would be best. I’m sorry, Andrew. We should
talk.”

“Right. Well, I suppose I’ve been expecting this.” He gave her
a searching type of look. “We could have a nice life together, Rachel. I was
hoping—”

“I know, Andrew,” she said, her heart heavy. “I was hoping,
too.”

“Is it the job?”

“No. Not really.”

“Is it Cole?”

She hesitated. “In a way, but not how you think.”

“I don’t understand, then. I thought—” Stopping, he shook his
head. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go. We’ll finish this discussion at the house.”

Neither of them spoke another word throughout the drive home.
Once there, there wasn’t a whole lot more to say. Andrew accepted her
explanation, made flight arrangements for the following morning and then spent
the rest of the day and the evening in her father’s office.

It was, all in all, rather anticlimactic.

Chapter Seven

D
uring the drive to the airport on Sunday
morning, Andrew seemed to be in good spirits, checking his email and reading off
bits of the daily news to her. Somewhat surprising, considering the
circumstances. Three days ago, they’d been a couple. In the small, small gap of
time in between then and now, they were going their separate ways.

Mind-boggling, really. And depressing as hell.

Rachel had woken in the throes of second-guessing her decision.
Obviously, she’d lost her mind. What was so wrong with a sufficient life,
anyway? She
could
find some type of happiness in
that, couldn’t she? Then, in the next second, she’d think of Cole, of how
freaking happy he was with Mary, of how
his
smile
lit up whenever he talked about her.

Jealousy came next. She’d give just about anything to be in
Cupcake’s shoes, even if it meant being called a name more suited for a toy
poodle than a human being. That would bring her thoughts back around to Andrew,
to her decision, and how the thought of being alone
and
without Cole seemed so much worse, lonelier and emptier, than
going forward with Andrew.

For a good hour or so, as she showered and readied herself for
the day, her mind circled through these and similar thoughts. Analyzing,
comparing, considering. Almost getting to the point of asking Andrew to stay
through Christmas, and then backing off again.

What had finally settled the matter once and for all was
realizing a not-so-pleasant truth about herself: she almost always chose the
easier route. If one path made her uncomfortable, she went the other way. If
that route became bumpy, she took the next fork in the road she could find. And
dammit, this time she wasn’t going to do that.

This time, she chose the more difficult path because it was the
right
path.

She swallowed, switched on her left-hand turn signal and tried
to think of something appropriate to say. Her mother had taught her many things,
but what to discuss with the man you’d just broken up with as you drove him out
of town was, sadly, not one of them.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Rachel,” Andrew said, reading
her thoughts quite well as he powered off his phone. “I’m the same person I was
when we got here.”

“But we’re not the same, and that’s my fault,” she told him.
She wasn’t the same either, though she hadn’t yet figured out what that meant in
practical terms. Only time would tell. “Are you really okay? I mean, you seem
okay, but...”

“I’m fine. Disappointed, yes, but...as I said yesterday, I was
expecting this.”

“Expecting what, exactly?”

“The end of our relationship. You’re in love with Cole.” He
said the words plainly, without a hint of discord or contention. “I had my
suspicions in New York, but I wasn’t completely sure until I saw the two of you
together.”

“I didn’t even know...” She trailed off, realizing she’d just
admitted verbally what she hadn’t wholly admitted to herself yet. “Cole and I
aren’t... We’re not... I mean, he’s in love with someone else. I didn’t end our
relationship to be with him.”

“So I gathered from our conversation last night.” Andrew
sighed. “I’m not going home a broken man. I care for you, Rachel, but I
don’t—”

“Love me?” she filled in.

“Love is a subjective term. I’m very fond of you.”

Fond. He was
fond
of her? “You were
talking about making a life together. You were jealous of Cole.”

“Of course I was jealous. As I said, I had hopes for us. When
it became apparent you had deeper feelings for another man, I reacted. I’m not
proud of my behavior, Rachel.”

“But why would you care if—” She swallowed again. This, too,
was important for her to understand. “Why would you consider spending your life
with someone you don’t love?”

“You’re a beautiful woman. Intelligent and kind.” A sidelong
glance showed a small grin flit across Andrew’s face. “Usually patient. You
comprehend the complexities and the importance of my career. You’re involved in
a myriad of charities and social functions. All of these attributes appeal to
me, for what I’m looking for in a partner.”

“I see.” Why did this bother her? She’d broken up with him,
after all. “Basically, what you’re telling me, is that being in love is at the
bottom of your list?”

“It isn’t even on my list.”

“Why not?”

“I... Is this important?” he asked, his tone becoming
abrupt.

At the airport now, Rachel located the correct airline and
pulled into the passenger drop-off lane. “It isn’t my business,” she said,
turning to face him. “But I’d like to understand.”

His jaw clenched tight, and she didn’t think he was going to
give her an answer. But then, he nodded. “I was in love once, a long time ago. I
put my life on hold for her, made choices that alienated my family. When the
relationship came to the disastrous conclusion everyone but me knew it would, I
decided to focus my attention on the more practical attributes of a successful
relationship.”

Well, that cleared up several lingering questions.

“I’m sorry,” she said, responding to the pain in his eyes,
rather than the steel in his voice. “I’m sorry you were hurt and I’m sorry I
can’t be what you want.”

“I’ve made my peace with the past. You’re wrong on the other,
though. You
could
be exactly what I want,” he said
in a milder tone, “but I understand that isn’t what you want. I really am
accepting of that. There isn’t any need to feel guilty.”

“All right. I’ll...try not to.”

He leaned across the car to kiss her on the cheek, stroked his
hand down the length of her hair. “I wish you’d reconsider.”

She didn’t respond right away, just waited to see if her
earlier doubts would resurface. They didn’t. “I wish,” she said lightly, “that
you’d give love another chance. We never know what’s waiting around the next
corner. Maybe you’ll find a woman you can love who also has every one of the
practical attributes you mentioned earlier.”

“Hmm,” he said, returning to his side of the car. “I find that
prospect highly unlikely, but I’ll consider the idea.”

“Good.”

They retrieved Andrew’s luggage, said their goodbyes and
promised to stay in touch. Whether they would or not was anyone’s guess, but
with Andrew, Rachel thought that might be nice. Someday, though. In the vast and
foggy future that awaited them.

But that day wasn’t today. Rachel put the car into Drive and
left the airport while considering her options for the endless hours that
stretched ahead of her. She’d get a tree, she decided. Maybe do a little
shopping for some necessary items: scotch tape, wrapping paper, gift tags,
lights for the tree and a few other odds and ends.

Not the least of which was a new brand of perfume.

* * *

Settling into a crouch, Cole went to work at
straightening the pile of winter boots left in disarray after the morning rush.
At the moment, Dylan was helping customers and manning the register, while Haley
had her head bent over the computer in the office. Presumably up to her ears
doing something “very important.”

Or, more likely, still waiting for one Gavin Daugherty to
appear.

Cole had stopped in at the Beanery on Sunday to talk with Lola.
Since his questions had amused her more than anything else, he’d set his
concerns on the back burner for now. His sister was an adult, for one thing. For
another, he had plenty on his agenda to deal with.

Anticipation, along with a fair dose of anxiety, pooled in his
gut as the clock ticked closer and closer to eleven. Unless she canceled again,
he and Rachel were supposed to finish shopping today. He didn’t want to shop. He
wanted to spend a few hours outside, breathing in the fresh air. Maybe burn off
some of his pent-up energy.

Changing their plans shouldn’t be difficult. Rachel would
rather do just about anything than mosey around a store for hours on end.
Unless, of course, she waltzed in here fixated on finishing what they’d started,
so she could run home to Andrew...to bestow more of her loving attention on him.
Or, he supposed, to receive some of that loving attention herself.

“Pitiful,” he muttered, rising. And adolescent, to boot. What
Rachel did in her own time was her business, even if it damn well felt like it
should be Cole’s business, too.

He made his way to the front of the store, where Dylan was in
the process of ringing up a customer. Their earlier crowd had thinned to a
meandering few, none of whom appeared to be looking for anything specific.
Wanderers, he liked to call them.

Wanderers were good, though. They often spent more money than
folks who were looking for something specific. They also tended to be easier
going, which was always a plus.

Dylan handed the customer his purchase, wished him a Merry
Christmas, and once the man had left the store, whistled under his breath.
“What’s up with Haley? She about bit my head off this morning, all because I
mentioned that I was surprised to see her here.”

“No clue,” Cole said, glancing out the window. No sign of
Rachel yet.

“Well, did you ask her to come in today or something?”

“Nope. She was here when I got here.”

Dylan narrowed his green eyes. “What aren’t you saying?”

Geez. His brother always seemed to know when someone was hiding
something, whether that something was big or small. This, Cole concluded, was a
small matter that didn’t require Reid’s or Dylan’s input. At least, not yet.
Going for an innocent look, Cole shrugged. “I really have no idea what’s bugging
her. Maybe you irritated her?”

“Hmm. Suspiciously vague
and
trying
to place blame elsewhere,” Dylan said. “Both tactics make me very curious.”

Ignoring the insinuation, Cole reached for and then flipped
over the pad of paper with Gavin’s name written on it. “This guy might come in
this afternoon, asking about a job. If so, get his number and I’ll get back to
him in a few days.”

Dylan glanced at the pad, nodded. “Sure. And hey, good attempt
at changing the subject. Unfortunately, little brother, you have a tell when
you’re not being upfront.”

“I am being upfront, and I don’t know what you think you saw,
but—” Cold air blew into the store when the door opened. Rachel, carrying two
cups of coffee, swept in, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink. Relief unfurled
inside. She hadn’t canceled. Whew.

“Hey there, Rachel,” Dylan said. “You brought me a coffee? How
sweet.”

“Hey, back. Actually,” she said, handing one of the cups to
Cole, “this is from Lola. When she learned I was on my way here, she
insisted.”

Knowing Lola as well as he did, Cole lifted the lid and took a
cautious, experimental sniff. “It smells sweet. What is it?”

“Eggnog latte.” She grinned. “As I said, Lola insisted.”

“Yuck.” Cole passed the coffee to Dylan. “How’s Lola
today?”

“Good. Something odd happened, though.” Rachel spoke the words
lightly enough, but a nuance in her voice set off a cacophony of warning
bells.

“Is that so? What type of odd?”

“Oh, it’s probably nothing. I mentioned our plans for the day,
how we were shopping for your girlfriend, and Lola was...well, I guess stunned
would be the right way to put it.” Rachel flicked an imaginary speck of lint off
her coat. “She said that as far as she knew, you hadn’t dated anyone since a
year ago last fall.”

“Huh. That is odd.” Cole bent over, pretending to tie his shoe.
Why hadn’t he thought of this possibility? Lola
would
know if he was involved with someone, and Rachel loved coffee.
She loved the Beanery. Hell, she adored Lola. “You’re sure that’s what Lola
said?” he asked, standing straight. “Maybe she was talking about Dylan here,
or...maybe Reid?”

Rachel sipped her coffee, eyeing him with confusion. “We were
talking about you. She even went so far as to say that you’re in the Beanery
almost every day. Usually alone.”

Dylan coughed loudly, trying to smother a laughing fit. He
failed.

Crap. Was she on to him? Already? “Easy enough to explain,”
Cole said, avidly avoiding Dylan’s gaze. “I...that is, Cupcake and I, have kept
our relationship quiet. For the most part. Except for, er, family. Besides, I
already told you how shy she is.”

More muffled laughter from his brother. He was so going to kill
him.

“Right. And determined.” Rachel glanced from Cole to Dylan and
back to Cole. “I thought of that possibility, since you’re such a private type
of guy, but one thing perplexes me.”

He gave her a winning smile and gestured for her to go on.

“Lola and your mom are pretty close friends, right? Your mom
seemed excited you were in a relationship, and when moms are excited about their
kids, they...well, they tell their friends. So, for the life of me, I can’t
figure out why she wouldn’t share this exciting news with Lola.”

“Oh, she wanted to. Trust me on that,” Cole said quickly. “I
asked everyone in the family to keep quiet on the subject.” Now, he looked at
his brother. “You remember that conversation, don’t you, Dylan?”

“Yup,” he said. “By the way, it’s nice to see you, Rachel.
How’s life treating you?”

Cole relaxed slightly. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Dylan, after
all.

Blink, blink. Pause. Blink. “Life’s fine. Nice to see you, too.
Anyway—”

“When you walked in, Cole and I were talking about tells, and
how—” he winked at Cole “—Reid and Haley have fairly obvious ones, but Cole’s
took me a lot longer to figure out.”

Just that fast, Cole was back to wanting to strangle his
brother.

“Tells?” Rachel asked. “As in...?”

“You know, mannerisms that people fall into when
they’re...fibbing or skirting around a topic they’d prefer not to discuss,”
Dylan said with a jerky nod toward the back office. “Now, Haley, she twists her
hair around her finger and avoids looking directly at you. Reid, on the other
hand, shoots his gaze up and to the right. Every single time.”