was the whitest Christmas we’d ever had in Pine Hill.”
A conversation comparing different snowstorms ensued. As Cole had only moved to Pine Hill earlier that year, he didn’t join in the conversation. Sophie didn’t have much to say, either, so she found herself studying Cole instead.
When he looked up and caught her staring at him, her breath stuck in her chest, and she fought to look away from those haunting blue eyes.
The conversation continued around them, but Sophie couldn’t follow anything being said. What she’d told her sister flashed through her head. She didn’t want to date Cole. She felt badly for all the things he’d been through and wanted to do something nice for him, to make him smile, and to show him that there were those who cared for what he and others in the military had gone through.
She wanted him to have a good life in Pine Hill, to enjoy the holidays, and to feel like he was a part of their community.
Only…
She also wanted to be his friend.
That he was a beautiful man and enthralled her in ways no man ever had was an inconvenient detail.
Cole was ready to leave. And not just because Sophie had been watching him for the past five minutes rather than talking with her friends about their hometown’s past snows.
“Are there any big snowstorms where you’re originally from, Cole?”
He should have known Sophie would attempt to pull him into the conversation. It was all part of that emotional charity she constantly dished out.
“It rarely snows where I’m from.”
“Which is where?”
“Northern Georgia.”
“He’s a Southern Peach,” Ben teased.
“The phrase is Georgia Peach, and I’m not,” Cole corrected, scowling at his friend even though that accomplished nothing other than triggering a smirk from Andrew.
“Cole’s one of them Southern Belles,” Ben continued.
“Beaus,” Andrew corrected.
“Belles are girls,” Sarah agreed.
“Cole’s definitely not a girl,” Sophie added, then proceeded to blush.
Which Cole found interesting. Why had Sophie blushed?
Her expression had been one of a woman who was interested in a man. Her blush hinted at the same. As did the way she’d looked at him after her tree rescue, which he’d written off as gratitude after a highly stressful event.
She couldn’t really be interested in him as anything more than a charity project, could she? No, of course not.
Men had died because he’d made a bad call. Sophie knew that.
Memories tightened his throat, making him antsy.
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table and standing.
“What’s your rush?” Andrew asked, eyeing Cole with too-penetrating eyes. Cole needed friends who were less perceptive.
“Say you’ll come to Hamilton House tonight, please,” Sarah implored.
Cole glanced toward Ben to see what he’d add. His friend flashed perfect teeth in a big grin, then turned to Sarah.
“We’d love to. What time do you want us to arrive?”
“I told you I was busy,” Cole reminded him. Going anywhere Sophie was going to be was a bad idea. He just needed to get through the toy drive, then he’d be more careful with future volunteer work.
His buddy harrumphed. “Even you have to take a break every now and then.”
“I’ve been on break all day.”
“You really should get Bodie’s advice,” Sarah said. “He did such a great job on our floors. Plus, he’s former Army, so you have a lot in common.”
“I was a Marine,” he reminded.
“Army, Marines,” Sarah waved her hand in the air. “You’re both former military. With you sharing that background, I’d imagine you and Bodie would have a lot to talk about.”
“Cole doesn’t talk about his military days,” Sophie said softly, as if she wished the conversation would end as much as Cole did.
She was right.
“Some things are better not talked about.” He avoided looking toward Sophie as he silently added, Or written about.
“Bodie is that way, too,” Sarah informed, her expression a mixture of pride and sadness. “He doesn’t like to talk about his time in the military, but I know there isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t think on his time there and the friends he made and lost while in the service.”
Cole fought wincing. This conversation had taken a horrible turn. Why hadn’t he left already?
Why had he bothered to come?
Oh, yeah. Toys. Kids. Christmas morning.
Still, they were finished with toy drive business.
He pulled his coat off the back of his chair. “Thanks for the invite. Maybe next time.”
“What he means is that he’d be glad to come to Hamilton House tonight,” Andrew corrected, standing and grabbing his