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“I’m not taking those back, Cole.” Hands going to her hips, she huffed out a breath. “If that’s why you’re here, just leave. Leave now.”
Cole watched the play of emotions flicker across Sophie’s face, watched as she lifted her chin, put her hands on her hips, and put on the most stubborn expression he’d ever seen her wear.
“I’m not here to return my gifts,” he assured her. Far from it.
Driving to her house, he’d thought he’d known what he wanted to say, had mumbled words to himself the entire drive.
Now that he stood in front of her, dressed in his Santa suit, the words seemed muddled in his head. No wonder with the way his formerly solid bones seemed to have turned to water. Especially his knees. How was he even standing?
“I’m waiting.”
“Isabelle didn’t call?”
“No. My sister is how you knew I was at the shop?”
“She answered the door when I went to your house a few minutes ago. I didn’t believe her at first when she told me you weren’t home. What are you doing here?”
“Sewing.”
“On Christmas night?”
“You’re seriously asking me that? You, the man who believes Christmas is just another day…despite the fact that he’s currently dressed as Santa?”
“Christmas isn’t just another day for me. Not ever again. That’s why I’m wearing my Santa suit. Why I’ll wear it next year and the year after and for however long the fire department, or anyone, needs me to be Santa.”
Sophie’s stance shifted. “What happened?”
“You happened.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t seem to know what to say, so she just stared at him.
“You swept into my mostly-content world with your Christmas magic and joy and turned everything upside down.”
She blinked as if she didn’t quite believe what he was saying. “I did that?”
He nodded.
Forehead wrinkled with confusion, she studied him. “Is that a bad thing?”
“I thought it was,” he admitted.
“Thought, as in past tense?”
Shifting the items in his hands, he held up her card. “Did you mean what you wrote?”
“I asked my question first,” she reminded him, frowning.
Despite the anxiety filling him at what was happening, Cole half-laughed. “You’re right. You did. Yes. As in past tense.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you for my quilt, Sophie. It’s amazing.”
Her smile lit up her eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“And my card,” he continued.
“You’re welcome for that, too.”
“And my tree. “O Christmas Tree” is now my all-time favorite song.”
“Well, it is a great song,” she conceded, looking more and more happily stunned by what he was saying.
