Read Cole's Christmas Wish Online
Authors: Tracy Madison
Cole's Christmas Wish
COLE FOSTER HAD ONLY ONE WISH THIS CHRISTMAS…
And that was for Rachel Merriday to realize, finally, that
she was in love with him! The only problem was, he and Rachel were friends…
just
friends. Sure, they kissed that once—and what a
kiss!—but Cole was waiting for the right time to tell her how he
really
felt.
But has time run out? Rachel was coming home to Colorado for
Christmas with a new man! And from what Cole’s been hearing, this guy might just
be “the one.” How could that be, when it’s been so obvious from the moment
Rachel first leveled him with a snowball as kids, that it’s
Cole
she should be kissing under the mistletoe!
Maybe
now
is the right time to
finally let Rachel know that all he wants for Christmas…is her.
A tingling sense of awareness snapped into place.
Yep, there she was, crossing the street with her arm linked
in a man’s. The other man tipped his head to her level and whispered in her ear.
Something primal roared to life inside of Cole, reminding him of what was at
stake, and it was all he could do to stay seated. Yes, he decided, for Rachel’s
sake, he would try to play nice....
But at some point, Cole would pony up and meet this guy at
the gaming table. Because Cole now knew he was in this for the duration.
Somewhere in between seeing Rachel again and remembering how it felt to have her
in his arms, he’d made a decision. He was done waiting for the right time, the
right words, the right moment or the right anything.
This was war.
Dear Reader,
Like the heroine of this story, Christmas is my most favorite
time of year. I am addicted to every one of the trappings the holiday
brings—decorations and lights, eggnog and home-baked cookies, shopping and
wrapping and, of course, spending time with family and friends.
Christmas tends to bring people closer together. We gather to
decorate the tree, bake cookies and exchange gifts. We visit family or welcome
guests into our home to celebrate the holiday. And, by and large, people are
happier and more upbeat during the Christmas season.
In
Cole’s Christmas Wish,
you’ll
meet Cole Foster and Rachel Merriday. Cole is the youngest of the Colorado
Foster brothers, and is determined to show Rachel that they belong together.
This would be easier if she hadn’t brought a man with her to celebrate the
holiday!
So what’s a guy to do? Use the holiday and all its trappings
to his advantage, of course. Toss in a pretend girlfriend, a
nosy-but-well-meaning family, the beauty of Colorado in December and a woman who
wants nothing more than to fall completely in love with the
right
man, and how can Cole lose? Maybe this is the Christmas his
wish—and Rachel’s—will finally come true.
I hope you enjoy Cole and Rachel’s story, and I wish you the
merriest of Christmases!
Tracy Madison
Cole’s Christmas Wish
Tracy Madison
Books by Tracy Madison
Harlequin Special Edition
*
Miracle Under the
Mistletoe
#2154
*
A Match Made by Cupid
#2170
*
An Officer, a Baby and a Bride
#2195
†Cole’s Christmas Wish
#2231
*The Foster
Brothers
†The Colorado Fosters
Other titles by this author available
in ebook format.
TRACY MADISON
lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children,
one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats.
Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud
moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the
interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her
stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at
[email protected]
.
To my agent, Michelle Grajkowski, and my editor, Gail
Chasan.
Thank you both for your support, wisdom and encouragement.
Chapter One
C
hristmas had all but exploded in Steamboat
Springs, Colorado. Wreaths adorned with big red bows and holly berries hung from
doors and windows, lampposts and storefronts were strung with sparkling white
lights, holiday music played inside and out, and everywhere Cole Foster looked,
people—residents and tourists alike—were literally glowing with cheer.
There were a few, he noted, who walked quickly, either because
they were used to the frenetic pace of a larger city or because they were intent
on reaching their destinations after a full day of shopping, skiing, or both.
Still others chugged along the sidewalks slowly, enjoying the sight of Steamboat
Springs dressed in its Christmas best.
The locals, on the other hand, fell somewhere in between,
neither rushing nor dawdling, yet obviously focused on going home or getting to
work. Typically, Cole fell into this group, especially after a long, busy day
dealing with the ins and outs of managing the sporting goods store his family
owned. Today, however, he wasn’t going home.
He stopped and shoved his hands into his coat pockets, breathed
in a deep lungful of fresh, cold December air and took a moment to gather his
bearings. Thick, fat snowflakes dropped lazily from the sky, enhancing the
appearance of the perfect Christmas village. It was, he admitted, a beautiful
night.
The weight didn’t lift from his shoulders, though. Nor did the
anxious adrenaline pummeling through his blood abate. Hell, this year, he had
more in common with the Grinch than he did with jolly ole St. Nick—and he had no
one to blame but himself.
He’d waited too long to act on his feelings, and while there
were reasons for his slow-footed approach—valid reasons, dammit—too long was, at
the end of the day, still too long. And now, Rachel Merriday might have gone and
fallen in love with someone else.
So yup, the merry had been sucked clean out of Cole’s
Christmas.
Ironic, really, at the timing. For months, he’d thought about
Rachel’s visit, about how he was finally going to broach the “taboo” topic and
put their past behind them. So maybe, just maybe, they could return to what they
were beginning to share before the accident that had changed everything.
Four years ago—had it really been that long?—his entire future
looked bright. His career in downhill skiing was speeding along, his
relationship with Rachel was starting to turn the corner from the friendship
they’d always had to something more—something deeper. One fall—one disastrous
fall—had ended not only his career, but the aftereffects had sent Rachel
running.
Shouldn’t have been a surprise. Rachel’s first instinct when
anything skewed off-balance was to get the hell out of Dodge. Hadn’t he seen her
bolt time and time again throughout the years? Yep, he sure as hell had. Just
not with him. So when she had, that bit in hard. Real hard.
Unfair, perhaps. He still didn’t know exactly why Rachel hadn’t
stayed, hadn’t stuck with him when his world shredded apart. Oh, she’d called.
Sent care packages and notes of encouragement, but she hadn’t been physically
present throughout his year of rehab, or for the time it took to get his head
screwed on straight again.
In fact, she hadn’t returned to Steamboat Springs until last
Christmas, when they’d somehow managed to breach the gap and reestablish their
friendship in person. It had been too soon to dredge up the past—their one and
only kiss and the words they’d each said the night before the accident—so he’d
waited until
this
year. Until
this
Christmas.
Except, a little over a week ago, Rachel had called to inform
him that she wasn’t coming to Steamboat Springs alone for the holidays. Nope.
She was bringing a man with her. A man she deemed might be “the one.” Just that
fast, all of Cole’s plans had disintegrated into dust.
He inhaled another breath and walked on, nodding at and
greeting those on his path to the coffee shop. When he arrived at the Beanery,
he paused again and glanced inside the windows, in search of a woman with long
blond hair and bright blue eyes.
Nope. She wasn’t here yet.
Cole pushed open the door and was hit by a blast of heat, the
scent of fresh brewed coffee, cinnamon rolls—the Beanery’s specialty—and the
sound of voices mixed with more freaking Christmas music. What he wouldn’t give
to hear Mick belting out “Satisfaction” or “Start Me Up,” instead of yet another
rendition of “Jingle Bells.”
A few of the regulars called out to him as he took his place in
line. Again, he responded to each with a nod and a smile but didn’t initiate
further conversation. Rachel would be here soon, and Cole needed every minute
between now and then to prepare himself.
The line moved slowly, as Lola—the owner of the Beanery—chatted
with each and every customer as if they were her best friend. Beyond the
cinnamon rolls, the warmth and camaraderie Lola offered was a large reason why
the Beanery was always chock-full of people, even during the few months of the
year the town wasn’t overrun by tourists.
Usually, Cole enjoyed talking with Lola as much as he enjoyed
her cinnamon rolls, but today all he wanted was to get his coffee and escape to
an empty table. Preferably one with an unobstructed view of Lincoln Avenue,
where he could wait in relative peace for Rachel and “the one,” and catch a
quick glimpse of them before they saw him.
Body language often told the truth about the state of a
couple’s relationship. Cole was hoping to see a mile-wide distance that would
negate the possibility that “the one”—otherwise known as Andrew Redgrave—might
be raring up to propose.
Frankly, the thought made Cole sick to his stomach. Yeah, he’d
waited too long to speak his peace, and now—well, now he might lose Rachel
before he—
they
—ever really had a chance.
“What will it be today, Cole? Your normal black coffee and a
cinnamon roll?” Lola’s chipper, somewhat twangy voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Or are you in the mood for something fancier for once? Maybe a peppermint mocha
or an eggnog latte?”
“Coffee is supposed to taste like coffee, not peppermint or
eggnog,” he pointed out, taking in the snowmen dangling from her earlobes, the
oversize Santa hat pinned to her bottled-red hair and the blinking,
multi-colored necklace of lights she wore. He grinned. Lola was a character, no
doubt about it. “Just the coffee today, I think. Had a late lunch.”
Squinting in surprise, Lola grabbed one of the Beanery’s bright
orange mugs. “Never known you to say no to one of my cinnamon rolls, late lunch
or not. You feeling okay?”
“Yup, just not hungry,” Cole said quickly. “You know how it is
this time of year.”
Curiosity lit Lola’s gaze, but she nodded and poured his
coffee. Cole bit his lip to stop himself from over-explaining. Lola was one of
his mother’s best friends, and if she suspected anything was amiss, she’d be on
the phone to Margaret Foster in the blink of an eye. In another blink, his
mother, father, brothers and sister would descend—each determined to discover
what the problem was so they could go about rectifying it. Whether Cole wanted
their help or not.
“Here you go.” Lola slid his coffee across the counter, along
with a wrapped-to-go cinnamon roll. “For later, when you’re hungry again. My
treat.”
“Thanks.” Arguing, Cole knew, would be pointless. He handed her
a few bills to cover the cost of the coffee. “I’ll save it for breakfast.”
“Your mom was in earlier today,” Lola said as she rang up the
purchase. “She’s ordered several dozen of these for Christmas Eve. I hear you
have family coming in for the holidays?”
“Yup. The entire Oregon side of the family, babies included.”
All three of his Foster cousins were now settled down and, from what his mother
had said, blissfully happy. Good for them. “Thanks again, Lola.”
After dropping a handful of change into the tip jar, Cole made
his way—finally—to a table. Ten minutes, more or less, until he saw Rachel. And
Andrew, of course. He couldn’t forget about Andrew, though he’d tried his
damnedest to do just that.
Rachel had sent him a text when her plane had landed. That had
been a little after noon, so she and Andrew had been in Steamboat Springs for
about six hours. Her parents weren’t in town at the moment, which meant that
Rachel and “the one” had spent an entire afternoon ensconced in her family’s
vacation home. Probably cuddled together in front of a blazing fire with wine
and...Cole rubbed his temple and tried to remove the forthcoming image.
He swallowed a gulp of coffee, tuned out the blasted Christmas
music and stared out the window. In the time it had taken him to get his coffee,
the snow had grown heavier, the light sheen of fluff now covering the streets
and sidewalks getting thicker by the minute.
The sight combined with his melancholy state-of-mind took him
back in time, to the day he’d first met Rachel. He was eleven, she was ten, and
a bunch of the local kids were messing around over at the school playground.
Cole and his two older brothers, Reid and Dylan, were involved in one of their
massive snowball fights when the mother of all snowballs crashed into the back
of Cole’s head, sending him sprawling face-first in the snow.
His brothers stood there like statues, their mouths hanging
open in shock. Cole pulled himself up with a snowball ready to go, pivoted and
saw...her. Pink cheeks, huge sky-blue eyes and short, wispy blond hair that
stuck out around her face like a newborn chick’s feathers.
A rich kid, based on the fancy boots, coat and car parked
behind her. Scowling, Cole lowered his snowball. His family owned businesses
that catered to the tourists. Ticking off this girl’s parents wouldn’t please
his folks, and he’d learned that rich-kid tourists didn’t take well to being
one-upped by the local kids.
It irked him that he couldn’t retaliate. Being laid out by a
girl wasn’t cool, and Reid and Dylan would be merciless in their teasing later.
Their sister, Haley, upon hearing the story, would go on and on about how much
better girls were than boys, and wow—wouldn’t that suck?
Still, he followed his common sense and shrugged it off, as if
the dumb girl and her snowball meant less than nothing. His eyes had locked with
hers, and she’d given him this spunky, I-win sort of grin that made him even
madder, so he turned his back to her.
Seconds later, Cole was kissing the snow again. This time, his
brothers broke into laughter. That alone was enough to force Cole into action.
Sputtering, he flew to his feet and let his snowball fly. She staggered backward
when it smacked her on the chin, but stayed upright. He expected her to stomp
her feet and throw a hissy feet, to run to the safety of her car and burst into
tears to whomever sat inside.
But she didn’t. She smiled broadly, and in almost slow motion,
pulled another snowball from behind her back and whipped it through the air,
hitting not him, but his brother Dylan square on the chest. That had been the
start of their friendship.
For the next many years, Rachel and her parents spent the
holidays and the occasional summer in Steamboat Springs, and their friendship
grew stronger as they grew older. During their teenage years, they began to stay
in touch throughout the months in between her visits, and once they were in
college—and after—they found ways to spend time together on a more consistent
basis.
Always as friends, though. Until that last year. Until the
kiss, the accident and the hell that followed. Cole’s gut tightened at the
memory. Hell, had he turned into a sixteen-year-old girl? The past was the past,
and dwelling on what had happened, versus what might or might not have happened,
did him absolutely no good in the present.
A tingling sense of awareness snapped into place. Cole shifted
to the right to get a better view and...yep, there she was, crossing the
well-lit street with her arm linked in a man’s. For a millisecond, he forgot
everything else as he watched her long-legged, slender body in motion. Her
middle-of-the-back-length blond hair blew around her face, the strands merging
with the swirling snow, creating the image of a mythical snow princess.
His heart did the galloping lurch to his throat, and his blood
seemed to warm beneath his skin. God, he’d missed her. Even more than he’d
realized. He gave himself another few seconds to enjoy the simple pleasure of
just seeing Rachel again. She was as beautiful as always.
The man—Andrew—tipped his head to her level and whispered in
her ear. Her lips opened in a silent laugh, and she bestowed a light kiss on his
cheek. Something primal roared to life inside of Cole, reminding him of what was
at stake, and it was all he could do to stay seated.
Narrowing his eyes, he now focused all of his attention on
Andrew.
He was tall, but not as tall as Cole. Stupid and meaningless,
for sure, but that pleased him. He walked in a smooth, polished gait that spoke
of authority, and his black Burberry trench screamed style and wealth. Not a
surprise. Rachel came from style and wealth and everything that lifestyle
granted, so why wouldn’t the man she decreed might be the one?
That didn’t bother Cole. What did was how good they looked
together. He supposed he could hope there was something wrong with Andrew...some
ulterior motive buried behind his interest in Rachel. She’d been involved with
men before who were more interested in her family’s wealth and her father’s
business connections than they were in her.
Somehow, though, Cole’s intuition told him that wasn’t the case
here, even though he hadn’t yet spoken one word to Andrew. If there was
something—anything—going on that could potentially hurt Rachel, Cole would
ferret it out. More for her sake than his. Not that he wouldn’t use any such
information to his advantage, because he would. Without doubt or hesitation.
