Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy - Janice Lynn Page 0,14

before she says ‘I do.’ Bodie still hasn’t told us where he’s taking our girl on their honeymoon. Sarah and I can plot to find out how she should pack.”

Could they be any more obvious that they were throwing Cole and her together?

“Bodie is a wise man to keep his honeymoon plans a secret from you Butterflies,” Ben said, earning a scowl from Rosie and a smile from Sarah.

Realizing that, no matter how much she argued, she and Cole were paired together, Sophie longed to find the nearest hard surface and bang her forehead against it. Didn’t they see how embarrassed she was? Or the sour look on his face at the prospect of being stuck with her?

He’d been through enough. Being near her bothered him. How could she let him be forced into this situation?

It wasn’t as if she was eager to be stuck with him, either.

What woman wanted to be around a man who detested the mere sight of her?

Sophie felt obligated to save him. Cole could see it written all over her rosy-cheeked face, could see her racking her brain for a way to get out of spending time with him.

Good. He didn’t want to spend time with her. Nor did he need her to save him as if he was some charity case.

He was a proud Marine. He’d been in much tougher situations than being forced to spend time with the likes of sweet, feminine, nosy, Christmas-y Sophie.

They’d visit the businesses on their section of the list, do their holiday duty, and then be finished. Afterward, they could go their separate ways. No harm done.

Better to just give in gracefully and get it over with, since any protests they put up would just add fuel to the fire their friends were tossing them into. And in the end, they’d still be stuck together with no option other than to grin and bear it.

If things were different, they might’ve been friends. But things weren’t different. Sophie had read his journal.

The less he had to do with her, the better. Which was why he needed to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Striking a pose similar to Andrew’s with his arms crossed, Cole shrugged. “No problem. Sophie and I will tackle our portion of the list.”

Her name, said out loud, felt odd on his tongue. Not that it should with as many times as her name had been on his mind. Everything to do with that book seemed permanently etched in his awareness.

Ignoring Sophie’s surprised look, he kept his gaze trained on his friends. “Just make sure you keep up with how many more donations we get than you two clowns.”

“Game on,” Andrew and Ben said almost in unison and fist bumped.

The group made plans to divide the list of businesses, then to meet up as Sophie suggested in two weeks. Cole wasn’t on schedule to work at the firehall that day. Too bad, as it would’ve been a perfect excuse to skip out.

After Maybelle made a few more announcements, the meeting officially ended. Cole had ridden over to the church with the guys and hoped they’d immediately leave. Unfortunately, they’d gotten pulled into a conversation with a guy from another group about Andrew’s pride and joy: Big Bad Bertha, aka his motorcycle.

Cole sighed. They were going to be a while.

Sarah and the blue-haired granny were talking wedding stuff with another woman who’d joined them, the blonde Cole had seen Sophie with earlier. She kept glancing his and Sophie’s way.

Sophie, who was still right beside him.

What did you say to someone after telling her that you never wanted to see her again?

Taking a deep breath, she found words before he did.

“I’m sorry.” She truly looked remorseful and a whole lot embarrassed.

“For?”

As he’d donated the journal, he couldn’t really blame her for having read what he’d written. He’d given it away and she’d gotten it. End of story.

Logically, he acknowledged that. Logic didn’t make it any easier being around her, though. Her presence made him uneasy, as if he was walking into a burning house that threatened to consume him at any given moment.

Studying him, she shrugged. “That you’re stuck in my group.”

“It is what it is.”

Pink tinged her cheeks. “Okay. I just thought…well, I didn’t want you to think I purposely gave you a sheet that put you in Group Three.”

“I don’t.” The true remorse in her eyes convinced him as much as her words.

“Good.”

“We’ll do our part to make the toy drive a success,” he