Cole For Christmas. Darlene Gardner
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single,” he said, his beautifully shaped dark eyebrows dancing.
“I was referring to your nuclear family,” she explained quickly. “You know, brothers and sisters—”
“Don’t have any,” he interrupted.
“And parents,” she continued. “You must have parents.”
He laughed, a deep pleasant sound. “I have parents. Two sets of them, in fact.”
He didn’t offer anything more, which meant, God help her, that she would have to ask. “Didn’t either set invite you over for Christmas?”
“Nope.”
She tried to keep the shock from her face but was afraid she couldn’t quite manage it. He’d proved his arrogance by blithely stating he was gunning for her job, but certainly his parents had managed to overlook that character flaw.
“But surely with four parents…” She paused, trying to think of a tactful way to get her point across. She finally decided there wasn’t one. “At least one of them must have wanted you around on Christmas,” she finished.
“They would have,” he said, “but they’re away on vacation.”
“Together?” Again she heard the incredulity in her voice.
“Separately.” He chuckled. “We’re not quite that modern.”
Don’t do it, her brain screamed. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions just because his two sets of parents were off gallivanting somewhere and he was working late on Christmas Eve.
“You weren’t planning, by any chance, to spend tonight…” Her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat. Don’t say it, she thought. “Alone?” she asked.
“Not alone. I’m going to hang with Jimmy Stewart.”
Every cell in her body sagged with relief and she sent a silent thank-you to his friend Jimmy.
“I’d be surprised if It’s a Wonderful Life isn’t on TV tonight,” he said. “Although I’d rather see Jimmy in Rear Window or Vertigo.”
She nearly groaned aloud. He was referring to Jimmy Stewart, the actor. She must have made a pained expression, because he tilted his head quizzically.
“What’s the matter. Don’t you like Hitchcock?”
“I love him, but even I wouldn’t spend Christmas Eve watching his movies,” Anna admitted miserably.
“Then what are you doing tonight?”
Walk away, she ordered herself. Walk away while you still can.
“I’m having dinner at my parents’ house,” she answered, then swallowed the huge lump in her throat before she asked the question that had been inevitable since she’d seen the light shining under the door. “Want to come?”
COLE FOLLOWED THE taillights of Anna’s Christmas-red Miata through the hilly streets of Shadyside, which looked so different from the flat, palm-tree-dotted southern California landscape that it felt surreal.
But then nothing had been routine for Cole since seven months ago when he’d inadvertently discovered that the man who raised him wasn’t his biological father.
The man who’d helped to give him life had been equally in the dark until Cole had picked up the telephone and called him. After he’d gotten past the initial shock of discovering Cole was his son, they’d instantly hit it off.
Within three months, Cole had a second man in his life he called Dad. Before six months had passed, he’d relocated to the Pittsburgh area in order to fill in the blanks that had always been missing in his life.
That feeling of unreality continued tonight as it sunk in that he was looking forward to the evening ahead.
After scratching plans to fly back to California for the holidays when his parents announced they were taking a Christmas cruise, Cole had originally planned to spend Christmas Eve with his biological father.
It turned out his father’s wife had an impromptu vacation to the Hawaiian islands on the mind. Reluctant to leave Cole alone, he’d offered him a plane ticket to Hawaii.
Cole had refused the gift. As much as he burned to get to know his father, he hadn’t wanted to be the odd man out at anyone’s celebration—until Anna Wesley had walked through his office door wearing her red winter coat and Santa hat.
She’d looked so festive standing there with her cheeks rosy from the cold and her hands clutching the bobblehead doll that going home to an empty apartment had suddenly seemed extremely unappealing.
Anna, surprisingly, had struck him as the picture of appeal.
He followed the Miata through city streets festooned with tiny colorful lights and lampposts hung with Christmas wreaths, refusing to think about the very valid reason he shouldn’t fraternize with anyone from work. Especially Anna Wesley.
Surely he wasn’t expected to keep the Skillington Ski employees at arm’s length on Christmas Eve, he reasoned. Having a holiday dinner with Anna wasn’t the same as becoming involved with her. It didn’t mean she’d get close enough to him to discover his true motive for taking the job at Skillington.
Eventually they reached a neighborhood of wide, handsome streets and large Victorian homes with candles burning in nearly every window.
After a couple of turns, he followed Anna’s example and pulled his SUV up to an already crowded curb next to one of the houses, which was set back on a rectangular lot.
Cole didn’t know which was more impressive, the stately beauty of the two-story house or the hundreds of twinkling white lights that turned the place into a winter fantasy land.
He got out of his SUV and joined her on the sidewalk in front of the home, where she seemed to have frozen in place. In addition to the bobblehead doll, she carried a dark-green overnight bag.
She was tall for a woman, probably five eight or nine, with a curvaceous figure and long, shapely legs that were, at the moment, mostly hidden by her calf-length coat.
Her eyes were big and brown, her face heart-shaped and her curly brown hair just long enough to brush her shoulders. She was wearing the Santa hat again but, underneath it, her expression was anything but merry.
“Something wrong?” he prompted, reaching out to touch her on the sleeve of her red coat.
When she stepped away from him and nodded, his stomach pitched to the frozen ground. Could she have guessed his secret? Had he done something tonight to give away that he wasn’t exactly what he seemed?
“It struck me while we were driving over here,” she said and paused, “that you’re a man.”
Relief poured through him. She didn’t know.
“Last time I checked, that was true. I am a man,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows. “You want proof?”
“Of course not,” she said in her businesslike office voice, but he thought he caught a fleeting glimpse of something in her doelike eyes. Had it been awareness? “You don’t understand. I don’t bring men home to my family.”
“Ever?” he asked, alarmed that the prospect pleased him.
He’d felt the zing of attraction for her at his job interview, an instantaneous pull that had his loins tightening before she’d said much more than hello.
He’d thought his immediate reaction to her would be a problem, but it had paled over the next month when she’d treated him with an air of detached professionalism.
The coolness was still there, but now the attraction was back. Maybe it had reignited that instant in the office when he’d noticed her brown eyes contained warm golden lights.
“Ever,” she confirmed with her customary