his gaze trained on the back of her head. Using her inner light as a beacon to guide him, he made his way to her pew without looking around to any of the other parishioners. He didn’t want to know who was there or wasn’t there.
It didn’t matter. Sophie was right in front of him. Sophie was who mattered.
Admitting that was scarier than being inside a church.
When he stood beside her pew, she looked up. Upon seeing him, her entire face transformed with delight.
“Cole,” she whispered, scooting closer to her sister to make room for him to sit down beside her.
Relief filled him.
It hadn’t been any altruistic motivations of helping others that had brought him to the church. Sure, he wanted to help others. Always had. But he was there because Sophie had asked him, because she wanted him there.
Because whether he should or shouldn’t, he liked how her face had just lit up brighter than any Christmas tree they’d decorate later that day when she’d seen him.
She’d said he needed a Christmas tree. Did she have any idea she was his Christmas tree? That it was her that had already made this holiday season brighter and sweeter than any he could recall since early childhood?
He liked that seeing him was what triggered the pleasure shining on her pretty face and made her look as if she was going to bubble over with happiness.
He liked it much more than he should, as a man who’d sworn to never be in a serious relationship due to what lurked inside him.
Only, where Sophie was concerned, “should” didn’t seem to be enough to keep him away.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re here,” Sophie whispered as Cole sat down next to her on the church pew. Pure joy filled her. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
“You asked me to be here,” he reminded, his gaze locked with hers. She could see the mix of uncertainty, embarrassment, and something more in his eyes.
“I can’t leave those assisted living residents Christmas treeless,” he continued. “You’d never let me live that down.”
“There is that, Santa Cole.” She grinned, automatically reaching to take his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Warmth filled her at the strength in his callused fingers and rather than let go, her gaze dropped to where she held his hand.
It was one of the few times she’d intentionally touched him. She liked touching his hand.
She also didn’t want to let go. Because holding Cole’s hand left her a bit in awe, as if she were holding a precious gift and should cling to it for as long as he’d let her.
Her gaze lifted to his, perhaps asking silent permission, perhaps wondering if he felt that warmth coursing between them, too. Sophie wasn’t sure, so she waited for his response, for something letting her know that he was okay with holding her hand.
He gave a little squeeze back, even half-smiled, and Sophie’s heart leapt. Yes. She’d invited Cole to church, and he’d come. He hadn’t wanted to, but he still had. Because of her. He was next to her, holding her hand, and they were about to begin worship services.
Giddiness threatened to have her floating off the pew.
Today was an excellent day the Lord had made.
Then, Cole’s gaze went beyond her to Isabelle and her mother, and his partial smile faded. He pulled his hand away to reach for a hymnal.
“I’m not much of a singer. Hope it’s okay if I just listen.”
“That’s fine,” she assured, looking him in the eyes as she said it because she wanted him to know she truly meant it. It was more than fine.
She glanced in the direction of her mother and sister, wondering what it was about them that had Cole pulling away. As expected, they were watching them. Her mother had a smile on her face. Isabelle’s expression, however, was fretful.
Oh, Isabelle. Not all military men are Dad. With Cole, Sophie was going to trust her instinct rather than give in to her big sister’s worries.
Cole needed her friendship. She needed his.
Based on those wonderful brief seconds that their hands had been laced, she’d guess that her emotions were tangled up with the firefighter in ways that went way beyond just friendship.
Guessed? Ha. She was so entrenched in her emotions for Cole Aaron that not even the child’s sweet little voice singing from behind her was enough to distract her from the man sitting next to her, holding his song book, and staring down at the words