“Wonderful,” Cole replied, resisting the childish urge to punch “the one” in the face. He nodded toward the table and retook his seat, saying, “Glad to meet you, too, Andy. Up until a week ago, I hadn’t heard one word about you, so I’m sure you’ll understand my concern...and my questions. Seeing I’m ‘like a brother’ to Rachel, it’s my duty to look out for her welfare.”
Andrew scowled but didn’t immediately respond. He helped Rachel with her coat before removing his own. Once they were seated, he refocused on Cole. “Oh, I understand,” he said with a nuance of sarcasm. “I think this will be fun...getting to know each other. Don’t you?”
Rachel glanced at Cole and then at Andrew and then back to Cole, her eyes beseeching him to ease the awkwardness, rather than edging it on.
“Absolutely.” Cole lifted his coffee mug in a faux toast, deciding he’d give Andrew one more chance at playing nice. For Rachel’s sake.
But if “the one” continued to push at Cole’s buttons, he’d pony up and meet him at the gaming table. Even if he didn’t, Cole now knew he was in this for the duration. Somewhere in between seeing Rachel and having 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.
* * *
Well, that had been a rocky start.
Rachel Merriday leaned back in her seat to wait as Cole and Andrew went to get their coffees. Would they find a way to get along? Certainly, once Andrew realized he had no reason to be envious of Cole, he would relax. Cole, she knew, had simply responded to Andrew’s slight antagonistic attitude, and when that ended, would be more than happy to meet him halfway.
Or so she hoped.
The two had a lot in common, not that either one of the stubborn fools would believe that on her say-so alone. While they didn’t look alike in any way whatsoever, they were both handsome, virile men. Where Cole was dark—black hair, deep brown eyes and what Rachel described as caramel-coated skin, Andrew was light—ash-blond hair, steely gray eyes and a bordering-on-fair complexion that was more like her own.
Each was tall and fit, but also in different ways. Cole had the look of an athlete, lean and naturally strong. Andrew’s slightly more muscular physique came from hours spent in the gym each week and a rigorous low-fat, low-calorie, low-everything diet. But, yes. Both handsome. Both virile. Both sexy as all get-out.
No woman alive could deny that. Or, Rachel amended, no sane woman.
The real similarity between them, though, existed beneath their skin. Sure, Andrew tended to be more serious than Cole, but his heart was just as big, just as sincere, just as honorable. They were protectors. Guardians, really, of the people they loved. It was that trait in particular that had first drawn her to Andrew.
Continued to draw her, if she were to be completely honest.
But was she ready to settle down and have babies with him? She didn’t know, couldn’t quite get there, couldn’t yet take the leap from wanting to believing to being. The idea of marrying the wrong person petrified her. The thought of having children in a loveless marriage pushed her into a blacker realm of fear.
She knew all too well what that did to a kid, to the adult that kid became. No. Rachel couldn’t—wouldn’t—make the same mistakes her parents had. Incessant arguing behind closed doors, portraying the happy, perfect couple—family—at public events, using their child to wage war against the other.
Pretending. Faking it. Smiling when you wanted to cry, scream, stomp your feet, or...yeah, run away. As far and as fast as your legs could carry you.
Even so, as crazy as it sounded, Rachel yearned for love and everything that came with finding the right man. She wanted a family, dammit. She wanted grocery shopping and carpools, fat babies who would become mouthy teenagers, school bake sales and PTA meetings, picnics and backyard barbecues, and she wanted all of that with a man who loved her senseless.
Almost without thought, her eyes landed on Cole, and her heart sort of liquefied and slid to her knees. She’d screwed up there, she knew. And that screw-up had possibly caused her to lose out on something amazing. Maybe even something life-altering.
They were okay now, mostly, she thought. But her regret lived on. And that was why, despite her misgivings, she refused to run away from Andrew. The fear curdling in her belly, keeping her awake at night whenever she considered a future with Andrew, was the same exact fear that had propelled her to run away from her sole regret.
From Cole.
Rachel pushed out a ragged sigh. Her friendship with Cole made more sense than a lost opportunity, and was certainly far more important than a relationship that had never existed. Their friendship was real. Solid. Lasting. That brief flame so long ago? Meaningless.
Of course being here would stir up old memories. One year ago, she’d had all these possibilities in her head when Cole had asked her to visit for the holidays. But he’d made it clear—crystal, even—that it was their friendship he valued, had missed. Not the other.
And then Andrew had walked into her life and dazzled her with his charm and sweetness. With the traits that reminded her of Cole, and those that didn’t. He desired her. He talked about making a life together. That was real. That was solid. Was it lasting? Maybe.
That was what this trip was really about. She felt sure she could find a way to be head over heels with Andrew by Christmas, here in her favorite city, with an up-close and personal reminder of what she’d lost due to fear.
All she had to do was relax and stop thinking—analyzing—so much, open her heart and let herself take the tumble. How hard could it be?
Feeling somewhat calmer, Rachel tried to catch the men’s attention by gesturing toward the restrooms. Cole noticed, smiled and nodded, and returned to talking with Andrew. She waited for Andrew to glance her way, but he didn’t.
He was too focused on Cole, on whatever Cole was saying. Maybe, without her presence, they’d found some common ground. She hoped so. Otherwise, the next few weeks were going to be even tougher than she’d expected. And that... Well, that wouldn’t help her cause at all.
Chapter Two
Rachel took her time freshening up, needing a few minutes of privacy to settle her churning emotions. When she returned to the table, the men were waiting silently with rigid shoulders and hard, stony jaws. Okay, so that was a no to them finding some common ground.
She slid into place next to Andrew and wrapped her hand around the whipped-cream, syrup-drizzled cappuccino sitting in front of her. Unsure of how to proceed, she sipped her coffee slowly, her mind thinking of and rejecting possible topics of conversation.
“This is so good,” she said, infusing brightness into her tone. “What did you two get?”
“Black coffee,” they both said at the same time, in identical flat inflections.
Aha! Common ground. Going with it, Rachel said, “Well, they have great coffee here.”
“They do.” Cole’s lips twitched into an almost grin. “Want me to get you
