“Shit,” I said as my bags fell from my hands.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—”
It was Corinne.
She glanced up from where she was already trying to help me with my bags. “Cole?”
I smiled, bending down to grab the last of the contents that had rolled out. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“What an unlikely way to run into each other,” she said with a small giggle. “I was just out trying to pick up a few things for Christmas.” She raised a brow at my bags. “You too?”
“Yeah. I like to treat my employees.”
“I know.” Her words were filled with something dangerous. Something like admiration. She pulled onto the strap of her purse. “Well, I guess I should—”
“Where’s Jack?” I asked, wondering what she was doing alone. This was the time of year when couples shopped together, romanced by the holiday air.
I noticed her stiffen. “He… uh… he had somewhere to be.”
Somewhere he shouldn’t be, I thought, betting he was up to no good. I’d been keeping tabs on him at the office. Late lunches. Calling in sick. I doubt Corinne knew all this, but I wouldn’t be the one to tell her. It’d break her heart.
“Where were you headed?” I asked, not wanting her to be alone.
She shrugged, smiling. “You know, I don’t really know. I was just kind of drifting. Letting the crowd move me until I saw somewhere that seemed enticing.”
I adjusted my bags to one hand. “Why not walk with me? I know this city like the back of my hand. I can help.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Looked to the right. “Cole…”
“I know. It’s not Thursday. But it is the holidays, and we are friends. This can be a friendly stroll. Nothing more. Okay?”
She gazed into my eyes, indecision swirling around her pupils, before she said, “Okay.”
I took her to a few of my favorite shops where she found more gifts than we could carry. She agreed to let me hail a cab, so we could take our stuff back home. After which, we stepped back out into the New York night, on the hunt for the perfect gift for Bianca.
“What does she like?” Corinne asked as we trudged through the lightly falling snow.
“Dogs.”
She giggled. “Just dogs?”
I shuffled the back of my hair. “She doesn’t say much aside from business matters.”
“Cole,” she said, bumping into me, “there has to be something more about her. You’re an observational person. Think.”
She liked the color blue. Every outfit she wore had some hue of it. “She likes blue,” I said.
“Okay, that’s a start. What else?”
I thought hard. She always had a coffee in hand. Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure I ever saw her without one.
“Coffee. She always has a coffee with her.”
“Bingo,” Corinne said, her voice lifted. “Let’s go to a nice coffee shop to see what we can find. Maybe a nice machine, mug, or insulated cup. We could get her a gift basket filled with all kinds of goodies.”
“We?” I said, lifting an eyebrow.
The blush was hidden beneath the chill from the air, but it didn’t stop me from noticing. “Sorry,” she said, crinkling her nose. “I get carried away when it comes to gifting. It’s one of my favorite things. Making people smile.”
“I like it.”
“What?”
“That you said we.”
Silence sucked in a deep breath, waiting to see what we’d do next.
“I know a place,” I said, feeling her tensing up around me. She didn’t like when I spoke like that, but I couldn’t help it. “It’s right around the corner.
We walked in silence. Stopped and dropped some change into one of the Salvation Army’s buckets before we reached the small shop popular amongst coffee addicts. It had been written up in multiple articles in the papers I read.
When I opened the door for her, holiday music chimed out. Bells and drums and guitars strumming the seasonal songs that seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. The small building was packed. Tables full as the chatter seemed to compete with the music filling the room.
“Over there,” I said, pointing to the back of the room where the merchandise was kept.
I wormed through the crowd, reaching for her hand at one point. There were too many people bumping into one another, making it easy to get lost in all the noise. I paused, waiting to see if she’d take it. She did.
Her skin was soft and warm, and I tried not to think about how intimate it felt. It was ridiculous, really. Holding hands was such a basic move. I was a grown man who’d held plenty of hands and bedded plenty of women. But with Corinne it was so much more. Maybe because of the fact that it wasn’t allowed. Or maybe because of how I felt about her.
Either way, I savored every second.
Once we were in the back, we found a small corner where we could breathe away from everyone else.
“This place is packed,” she said, loosening her scarf.
“To say the least.”
She perused the shelves, running her fingers over mugs and small wooden plates adorned with quotes. “Did you decide what you wanted to do for her?” she asked, swiveling her head around to catch my gaze.
Damn, she was adorably beautiful. The pink in her cheeks and nose seemed to brighten her chocolate-colored eyes.
“A gift basket seems right,” I said. Spotting an insulated cup on the top shelf with various dog drawings wrapped around the body, I reached up and grabbed it, then showed it to her.
Her smile was bright. “Wonderful.”
It only took about ten minutes to find enough to fill a basket with. As I pushed through the crowd to get in line, Corinne hooked a finger through my belt loop to keep close. I let myself imagine we were together. That she was mine.
“There,” she said, pointing to a recipe on the board. “I think she’ll like that best.”
I ordered a bag of the blend, and then paid for the gifts.
By the time we made it outside the shop, we were pulling in a deep breath of night air.
“Wow,” she said.
“I know. It gets hectic this time of year.”
She pulled on her strap again. A nervous habit. A skittish one. I had to make a move now, or watch her leave.
“Have you seen the Macy tree yet?” I asked. “It’s magnificent.”
“From afar, yes, but not up close. It’s on my list of things to do,” she said as we strolled side by side.
“Want to see it? We could grab a coffee. Maybe ice skate.”
“Cole.”
“Stay,” I said, knowing I had her. I could see it in the way her body curved to mine. I just needed to give the right reason.
“Why?”
“Because he isn’t home,” I said. “You shouldn’t be alone, Corinne. Not tonight.”
She took my hand. “Okay,” she said, nodding as if answering herself. “Okay.”
“What size?” I asked her as we headed up to the kiosk to rent skates.
“Six and a half.” She sipped on the coffee we picked up along the way.
“I need a ladies’ six and a half, and a men’s eleven,” I said at the counter. The teenage boy nodded, and then disappeared to grab the skates.
She held out my coffee. I took it and sipped, the warm liquid putting life back into my veins.
“What do you think?” I gestured to the rink and tree.
“It’s everything I imagined,” she said quietly. She was still hesitant about being out with me. I had to be delicate with her. With tonight. We were breaking rules. I hated rules. But I’d respect them for her.
“Here you go,” the boy said, setting the skates on the counter.
After paying him, we found a bench, sitting side by side, sliding the skates on.
“You know… I’ve never ice-skated before,” she admitted, tying double knots.
“Don’t worry. It’s easy,” I assured her.
&nbs
p; “I’m not worried…” She was smiling. “I just thought you should know.”
Stepping onto the rink, I held her hand. “I’ve got you.” I slowly skated backward, giving her enough space to feel comfortable.
Though she wore a brave face, her hands were clinging to mine as I moved us around the rink at a slow pace. After two trips around, her grip loosened until she finally let go.
Her face lit up like stadium lights. “I’m doing it!” she said, giggling. She wobbled a little from the movement, the light disappearing, and then returning once she found her balance.
I chuckled. “Look at you. The little rose that could.”
There was that smile again. The one that could sink a thousand ships. And it was aimed at my heart, spearing straight through.
“Thank you,” she said, moving in beside me as we fell into a rhythm next to each other.
Breaking the rules, I took her hand in mine. She was too beautiful, and this was too great of a moment not to. “You’re welcome,” I said, glad she didn’t let go.
“I love Christmas trees.” She was staring up at the Macy’s tree. “The smell. Decorating. Filling the underside with gifts. You?”
“The last time I had a tree was when I lived with my parents many years ago.”
She jerked her head to the side. “Seriously?”
I nodded, chuckling at the surprised, slightly horrified expression on her face.
“That’s sad,” she said in disbelief. “Everyone should have a tree.”
“Even a lone bachelor?”
She nodded. “Everyone.”
“Maybe… but it’s kind of sad decorating a tree alone with no one to share it with.”
She didn’t say anything. Just held my hand as we continued circling the rink.
“What do you do for Christmas?” she asked. She knew my parents were gone. We shared so many stories with each other… I felt like I had grown up with her.
“I drink eggnog the restaurant downstairs serves. Call my friends to wish them a Merry Christmas. And then I relax. It’s one of the few times a year when I feel like a normal person.”
“But you spend it alone?”
I lifted my shoulders. “I’m used to it, Corinne. For a man, it’s different.”
Her lips flattened as she grunted. “Whatever you say.”
I chuckled. “You don’t think so?”
“I think you like to think so, but I don’t think men are immune to loneliness. Maybe you’re able to compartmentalize it better, but I don’t doubt for a second that you feel it.”
I was grinning again. I like the way her gaze fought with mine. When her smile turned coy and she let her feisty side out
“What?”
“You,” I said. “You just have this way. I love it.”
She smirked at me, and then took off, racing me around the rink.
An hour later, we were standing in the elevator, riding up to her floor.
“I had fun,” she said, holding the few bags she had with her. Her nose and ears cherry red.
“Agreed.”
“I’m glad I bumped into you.”
Happiness took on shapes in her eyes, like round balloons floating toward the sky.
I smiled. “More like knocked me down. You have one hell of a stride.”
We laughed. The doors slid open, the seconds with her slipping away fast.
“Thank you, Cole,” she said before kissing me on the cheek.
And just like that, she was gone.
Chapter 15
Corinne
The following Thursday, I sent a note up to Cole, asking him to meet me at the coffee shop where we’d picked out Bianca’s gifts. The last time we were there, the coffee had smelled amazing, but there’d been too many people for me to try and figure out what I wanted.
After picking what I felt like would be the best cup of coffee I ever had, I found a small table near the window and waited. My stomach swirled with nerves. I had a surprise for him, and I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was Jack.
That was a first. He never messaged me on Thursdays.
Hey, beautiful. Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.
I read it over a few times. Was that for me? I was scared to message him back. What if it was for Jessica? Or for someone new? I had no idea who he was seeing.
A few seconds ticked by, followed by another message.
Be sure to wear what I bought you tonight. I can’t stop thinking about how you’ll look in it.
My stomach dropped. I’d known deep down that message wasn’t for me. He never messaged me like that. Not even on our regular days.
But this one stung. I wasn’t sure why I replied, but I did.
Jack, you’ve got the wrong person. Have fun tonight.
I imagined the expression on his face when he realized he’d sent his wife the text meant for his lover. He never did pay attention to details. At least not when it came to me.
Corinne, I…
A pause.
I’m sorry, honey. You know I love you. Please, just ignore that text. And have fun as well.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
It was Cole. He was pulling out a chair as my stomach stirred with acid.
I dropped my phone a little too heavily on the table.
“Jack?” he asked.
He knew me too well.
“He texted me on accident.”
His face said it all. He reached for my hand. I let him take it, despite the rules.
Fuck the rules. Fuck Jack.
“I guess she’ll be wearing something he bought for her tonight.”
His eyebrows dipped in sorrow. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said, running his thumb over my knuckles.
It was the first time he’d called me by an endearment. I liked it. It made the acid in my stomach go to the wayside.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s part of the deal, right?”
His lips went tight. “You know what I think, Corinne.”
“I do, and I’ll… I’ll deal with it. Eventually.”
He stared at me knowingly. Confronting Jack was something I’d feared from the beginning, because to tell him I was done was to walk away from something I thought would be forever. Through thick and thin. Through sickness and health.
But this open-marriage sickness was slowly digging our grave.
“Don’t think about him,” he said, pulling my hand to his lips. He kissed each knuckle, warmth spreading through my limbs. “Not when our time is so precious.”
With every kiss, I felt my anger dissipating. I was so grateful for Cole. He was so understanding and caring. With anyone else, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
“So…” he said, resting our intertwined hands against the table. “Why here?”
“I have a surprise for you,” I said, painting a semi-real smile on my face.
His lips curved. “You do?”
I stood, picking up my coffee. The coffee shop was tainted. I wanted to move. Leave. Start a new memory that didn’t involve Jessica or Jack or lingerie.
Outside, I raised a hand to hail a cab.
“What are you doing? I have a car.”
“Not today,” I said as a cab pulled in. “Today, you’re an average you and I’m an average me, and we’re going to do average things.”
“In public?”
“I was thinking… maybe that rule could be bent a little,” I said, hesitant.
He chuckled. “Okay. Just give me a second to send off my driver.”
Once inside the cab, I gave him the directions to the place I’d Googled late last night while soaking in a bath. Cole got in a second later, moving in and putting his large arm around me.
I snuggled into him.
He felt good and warm, and I allowed myself to enjoy the normalcy of being beside him.
“So where are we going?” he asked, anxious as a kid on Christmas.
?
??It’s a surprise,” I said, “so stop asking!”
He chuckled. “Okay, babe.”
Babe.
It only took about thirty minutes to get to where I wanted to go. As soon as we pulled up, Cole started chuckling, the brightest smile lighting up his face.
“You didn’t…”
I grinned from ear to ear. “I did.”
We got out, then headed into the tree farm with the rest of the couples and families picking the perfect tree.
“You have to have a tree.” I tugged on his hand, pulling him through the various trees, trying to find the perfect one. His penthouse was huge, so a large tree would be fitting. After debating over a few, I found the perfect one in the back.
“This one. It will be grand,” I said, pointing to the twelve-footer hiding in the back.
“But I like this one,” he said, pointing to a small, bare-boned tree.
I frowned. “That one is so sad.”
“I like it. It’s lonely, like me.” He was smirking.
“You’re bringing that up again?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said it. Look at him.”
“It’s a him?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding sagely. “He’s a lonely old bachelor, just like me, hoping the right one will come along and choose him.”
I touched the ends of a branch. Tilted my head to the side, using my hands to frame the tree. “Yeah, I guess I can see a little of you in this tree.”
He pinched my butt and I squealed, darting off as he gave chase through the maze of evergreens.
“Get back here,” he said just as I found a clearing of snow.
My feet were sinking deep, slowing me down. He tackled me from behind. We rolled until he was on top of me, our chests colliding.
“I give. I give!” I shouted through my giggles, hands pinned into the snow. We were sinking, the wet soaking through.
“Not until you kiss me.”
I pecked him on the lips. Felt a shift in the air between us. An intensity pulling my heart closer to his.
His lips smoothed over mine until I opened my mouth to him. His tongue danced with mine, melting us into the snow as the world faded away. My mittened hands wound through his hair, pulling him closer against me as his hand slid beneath my back, holding me close.