he would go away and leave her be. Heck, wasn’t that how she had felt for the past six months? Torn between wanting him close and wanting him gone.
It was as if she couldn’t quite give up on the dream. Couldn’t let go of the hope that this could all work out. Their marriage was like the Gingerbread Inn, Emily realized. In desperate need of major repairs and a lot of TLC.
The only difference? The inn wasn’t past the point of no return yet. Their marriage, on the other hand, was. If anything told her that, it was the conversation the other night about kids where Cole made it clear he wasn’t on the same page as she was. Now she was having a baby her husband didn’t want, and the sooner she accepted that, the better. Besides, any change in him this week was temporary. She knew that from experience. At the first sign of trouble at the company, Cole would be gone, for weeks on end, and she’d be on her own.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cole asked. “You look a little pale.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Just a little pregnant, is all.
He looked like he wanted to probe deeper. Instead, Cole cleared his throat and shifted the hammer in his hand. He glanced up at the fascia board they’d installed, then back at Emily. “I, uh, better finish up.”
She shifted to the side so he could climb up the ladder and finish hammering in the wood. By the time the last nail was in, Emily had gone inside. Because staying out there watching Cole fix the inn she loved only made her long for the impossible.
* * *
Cole’s back ached, his shoulders burned and his legs hurt more than after his thrice-weekly run. His hands had calluses and nicks, and a fine shadow of stubble covered his jaw. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a man as far from a billionaire CEO as one could get.
It felt good. Damned good.
Still, he was smart enough to know he couldn’t stay here forever. He had a business to get back to, a business that needed his attention. Every day he spent away from WTD was one that impacted the bottom line. People depended on him—families depended on him—to keep the profits coming so they could pay their mortgages and put food on their tables. Instead, he was here, working on the Gingerbread Inn, a place that meant something to Emily.
Because he’d thought they stood a chance. After that kiss, hope had filled him. Hope they could find their way back as a couple if they just spent more time together. But it seemed every time they got close, she put up this wall. Or she walked away, shutting the door as effectively with her distance as she had the day she’d asked him to move out of their house.
Did she have a point? Was it all about not wanting to give up? Admit defeat? Was it about the battle, not about love?
His phone vibrated against his hip. Cole flipped it out, shifting from carpenter mode to businessman in an instant. He dropped onto the bottom step, and for the next half hour, worked out the details of a deal with a partner in China, made a decision about firing a lackluster employee and hammered out the contents of the quarterly investor report with Irene, his assistant.
“The place is going nuts without you,” Irene said. “You’d think the sun had stopped shining or something.”
Cole ran a hand through his hair. This was why he rarely took vacations and worked most weekends. “I’ll come back in the morning.”
“You will do no such thing.” Irene’s calm voice came across the line strong and sure. In her sixties, Irene had always been more than an assistant—she’d been a guiding force, a sort of mother not just to Cole but to everyone at WTD. She was plainspoken and filled with common sense, so when she talked, Cole knew he’d do well to listen.
“And why would I stay here when the company is in a panic?”
“Because it’ll do all the lemmings around here some good to take on a little leadership. And because it’ll do you even more good to do something other than wither away under the fluorescent lighting.”
He chuckled. “I am far from withered away, Irene.”
“You go entire days without seeing the sunshine. You’re here before me, stay long after those with common sense go home. You need to notice the world around you, not just the workload before you.”
Wasn’t that what Emily had said a hundred times over the years? She’d told him he worked too many hours, was home too few. He’d insisted the company needed him, but maybe it was something more, something deeper inside himself that kept him behind that desk day after day instead of with his wife, enjoying the life he had worked so hard to afford.
Irene had a point. If he took a few days off, then maybe the so-called lemmings he’d hired would step up to the plate and do what he’d hired them to do—lead in his stead. Rather than everyone looking to Cole because he was always there in the driver’s seat.
“I’m doing that now.”
“Are you? Because I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that you haven’t heard those birds chirping in the background or the soft whistle of the breeze through the trees. How about the sun? Is it shining bright, or is it dimmed by cloud cover?”
Cole raised his gaze and squinted. “Bright.” His gaze skimmed over the pale blue sky, then down the trees, almost bare now that November was edging toward December. Birds flitted from branch to branch, determined to stay as long as they could before caving to winter’s cold. The breeze danced in the last few dangling leaves, waving them like flags. Through the trees, he could see the lake, glistening and inviting while squirrels dashed to and fro, making last-minute preparations for winter. He paused a long moment, letting the day wash over him and ease the tension in his shoulders. “You’re right. I never noticed any of that.”
“And you need to, Cole. Before it’s too late.”
“It might already be.” He let out a long breath. Irene was the only one who knew about his marital problems. As his right-hand person at WTD, she had seen the end of his marriage coming long before he had. She’d noticed that there’d been fewer and fewer lunches with Emily, more long days when he didn’t leave before dark and more weekends spent at the office instead of at home. He’d also given Irene a heads-up about the projects he was working on—both the one with the inn and the one with his marriage.
“Has she kicked you out of that inn yet?” Irene asked. “Told you to leave?”
“Not yet.” Though, given her reaction to their kiss, Cole wasn’t so sure Emily wanted him around anymore. She hadn’t said that out loud yet, but he’d sensed a distance, a wall whenever he got too close. Like when she’d felt ill and he’d asked her if she was okay—Emily had suddenly gone cold and distant.
“If she hasn’t kicked you out, then it’s not too late. Now get your head out of the office and pay attention to what’s around you,” Irene said. “I’ll handle things here. We’ll all be fine.”
He chuckled. “Is that an order?”
“You bet your sweet bippy it is. Now let me go so I can get some work done around here. Not all of us can sit around in the sun, listening to the birds chirp, you know.” Her words lacked any bite and held only affection and worry.
“Thanks, Irene,” Cole said, his voice quiet and warm.
“Anytime, Cole. Anytime.”
