Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy - Janice Lynn Page 0,70

that had previously been taped to the display table and put them inside a storage bin. “I’m so glad you spotted me. I was just about to call for backup because I didn’t want to leave any of the quilts behind.”

“It’s not a big deal. Andrew needed to make a detour before we headed back to the station. I was just killing time while I waited.”

“Well, your timing was perfect.”

Once Cole was laden with quilts and Sophie was pulling a wagon loaded down with her wares, they crossed the blockaded street, pausing outside the shop. Her key chain jingling, she unlocked the deadbolt, sighing with pleasure as she opened the door and was met by the smell of pine needles and cinnamon.

Mmmm, she loved the smells of Christmas.

“Give me just a minute to turn off the alarm,” she said as she took off toward the back of the store.

She shut down the alarm and dumped her bag she held onto the cash register counter.

When she turned back, Cole was close—so close she almost bumped into him.

“Sorry!”

“I thought you’d want the quilts back here.”

“Um, yeah.” She gulped as she realized they were alone. She wasn’t frightened by him in the slightest, but she still felt a little on edge to be alone with Cole. It had her heart pounding overtime. “Do you mind helping while I put them back on display?”

He followed her to where she had patriotic material for sale.

Sophie partially unfolded one of the quilts and draped it over a rack, rearranging it until the stars were perfectly aligned.

He studied the detailed pattern on the quilt as she tweaked the positioning.

“Did you make these?”

Pride filling her at his question, she nodded. “Yes, I did.”

She took another quilt from him, then quickly had it back in its place, too. She changed the quilts out as she made new ones, but always tried to have several samples made up prior to their being awarded. She liked to keep at least a couple around the shop as examples she could show their customers.

“You’re very talented.”

Her heart warmed at his compliment. “Thank you. Do you sew?”

His taken-aback expression had her laughing. “Men do sew, you know,” she pointed out.

He looked skeptical. “None I’ve ever known.”

“We have male volunteers when we do sew-ins.”

“Sew-ins?”

“Days where volunteers get together to sew. We make as many quilts as we can in an allotted time frame. Sometimes we go for twelve hours, sometimes twenty-four hours, sometimes a weekend. We try to schedule a couple every year.” She took a third quilt from him and refolded it to where it showed a particular bit of the pattern. “It’s a lot of fun, and we always end up with several completed quilts.”

“And men attend?”

“We had a few in attendance this past summer.” She put the next folded quilt on a shelf, making sure a full block could be seen. “Mostly husbands of some of our volunteers, but we’d like to get more men involved. Hint, hint.”

Cole shook his head. “Not interested.”

“Give me time.” She waggled her brows at him. “I’ll change your mind.”

“Not on this.”

“But on something else?”

His lips twitched. “I just meant that I won’t ever be sewing or attending a sew-in.”

“Never say never.” Sophie got each quilt situated as she wanted, then turned to him. “Give me a minute, please.”

She took off for the small bathroom in the back, checked her hair in the mirror, pleased to see the pink that being outdoors for so long had added to her cheeks. Or was it being with Cole that had given her face color? She looked happy, excited to be alive.

She was. Because of the man waiting on her.

She hurried back out of the bathroom, planning to set the alarm, but she caught sight of Cole via the lit security camera monitor screen as she passed Isabelle’s open office door.

He stood next to the patriotic materials and had the corner of one of the quilts in his hand, examining the stitching.

Not casually, but really looking, a plethora of emotions on his handsome face.

Sophie’s heart squeezed as he ran his fingertip over the pattern, tracing out the intricate details. A faraway look settled into his eyes as he let the material fall through his fingers.

Then, as if unable to resist, he picked the corner back up and held it tightly in his hand, as if he didn’t want to let go of the red, white, and blue material.

Oh, Cole, she thought. If ever someone needed to be wrapped in one