Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy - Janice Lynn Page 0,64

her most brilliant smiles. One that he’d swear lifted her whole body until she stood a couple inches taller.

“Hi,” she said, sounding a bit breathy.

He stepped to just inside her tent. “Hi back.”

“I was hoping to get to see you again in your Santa suit.”

He shrugged. “Can’t have two Santas running around tonight, and the American Legion sponsored a ‘photo with Santa’ booth. Plus, I’m on duty.”

“Maybe next year.”

He didn’t bother pointing out that he wouldn’t be wearing the suit next year, or ever again, for that matter. He’d have it cleaned, then he’d bring it back to the firehall for whoever got stuck with it next year.

“Thanks for my Christmas candy.”

“You’re welcome.” Cole picked up one of her photos, eyeing the image of a veteran wrapped in a blanket. An older gentleman in full uniform who was decorated to the hilt from what Cole could see that was not covered by the quilt around the man’s shoulders. “I expected to find for sale items from your shop in your booth, not all this patriotic quilt stuff.”

“The Threaded Needle is an avid supporter of all things patriotic.” Grinning, she saluted him.

“As are you?”

“Of course.” Sophie stared up at him, her eyes glittering as she asked, “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

Glancing back at the photo, Cole inhaled a deep breath. “It was just another day.”

“Did you work?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for the text.”

“You’re welcome.” Her smile was infectious as she added, “For future reference, it’s polite to respond in a timely fashion.”

Cole regarded her, taking in her hair spilling from beneath her Santa hat, her still-flashing Christmas lights necklace, and the same puffy jacket she’d worn when they’d gone sledding. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were pink from the cold.

“Just how long is a timely fashion? Am I still within an okay window?”

Sophie’s eyes danced with mischief as she said, “Not even close. Anything beyond twenty-four hours is too long and in bad taste. You should make a note of it.”

“I never was good with social etiquette.”

“Well, now you know so that the next time I text, you can keep in mind that the clock is ticking.” She tapped her coat covered wrist. “Tick tock.”

Studying her, Cole asked, “Do you intend to text me again?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, but you best not ignore my text next time if I do.”

“I didn’t ignore your text.”

He should just let it go and let her think he had. She didn’t need to know how much he’d agonized over her message and what his appropriate response, or lack thereof, should have been.

“No? That’s so odd. I don’t recall getting a text back.” She noticed the small white paper bag he held. “What’s that?”

“Sarah sent it for you.”

A smile spread across her face. “Oh! It must be my snowflakes I asked her to hold for me. I’m so glad she remembered. Yay!”

Cole held out the bag. “I don’t know anything about snowflakes that were on hold for you, but she asked me to give this one to you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sophie’s cheeks pinkened as she took the bag, opened it, and gently lifted the ornament. “I’d asked her to put three back for me. When you said…I wonder why…” She stared at the single snowflake, then glanced up at him, seeming to realize why her friend had asked the favor of Cole. Her face flushed a deeper pink. “Oh, never mind.”

Yeah, this was growing more awkward by the minute.

“Thanks for bringing the snowflake to me.” She carefully tucked it into the bag she had stowed beneath the table. “I’ll ask Sarah about it later.”

She wouldn’t have to as her friend would, no doubt, tell her that it had been Cole who’d bought the ornament. Cole was convinced Sarah was either a full-fledged Butterfly or maybe one in training. That Bodie had called them bees fit. They buzzed way too much to be labeled butterflies. The older women probably called Sarah a caterpillar or something just as corny.

Why else would Sarah so obviously matchmake? Perhaps she thought because Bodie was such a good man, Cole must be, too. She didn’t know his past to know any better.

Unless Sophie had told her. But no, if Sarah had any idea what he’d been through, what he’d done, she’d want her friend to stay as far away from Cole as possible.

A woman came into the tent, took a brochure, then asked Sophie a question about how to sign up her grandmother, who’d apparently been

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