Keeping Cole for Christmas Read online

  Keeping Cole for Christmas

  A Sweet Romance Christmas Novel

  Tuesday Embers

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  1. Felines and Freckles

  2. Parents, and Prince Pierce

  3. On Bended Knee

  4. Unboxing and Unorganized

  5. Phone Sex

  6. Sick Puppy

  7. Abby’s Plus-One

  8. Strawberry

  9. Aiden and Abby

  10. Furlough for RT5

  11. Cole’s Gift

  12. Santa Claus

  13. Pierce’s Guest

  14. The Silence of Sadness

  15. Arm Tickles

  16. Cole’s Confession

  17. A Fresh Perspective

  18. Cole’s Surprise

  19. Delusional

  20. Typical Contractor

  21. Fight for Us

  22. Color in the Condo

  23. No More Christmas

  24. Murdering Santa

  25. Back Together

  26. What Never Should Have Been

  27. Aiden’s Wisdom

  28. Rocky Road

  Heart of the Woods

  1. Upside-Down Boss, Inside-Out Tent

  Books by Tuesday Embers

  Books by Mary E. Twomey

  Copyright © 2018 Tuesday Twomey

  Cover Art by Ally Hastings

  of Starcrossed Covers

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  All rights reserved.

  First Edition: July 2018

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  * * *

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * *

  For information:

  http://www.TuesdayEmbers.com

  For my parents,

  Who loved us so much that they never let us have a fake Christmas tree.

  * * *

  And for Brittney Androsian,

  Who never got a lump of coal in her stocking.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Esther Gonzalez, for superior editing

  and superior friend…ing.

  1

  Felines and Freckles

  “We agreed you would come.” Abigail Hannity gripped her cell phone, trying not to get too upset. The cat cradled in her left arm spooked easily on a good day, which Abby was quickly learning, this was not.

  Her fiancé’s voice was apologetic and upbeat, as usual, but it did nothing to soothe her frustrations. “I know, but I’m the new guy here. I can’t exactly take time off.”

  “You’ll be working two days before Christmas? That’s a Sunday, Pierce. These are my best friends. They’re expecting to meet the man I’m going to marry some time before the actual wedding day.”

  “And they will. My supervisors are tyrants. What can I say? I wish I could come back to town and see you. Tell Macy and Jenny that I’m a rat bastard, who’s very sorry to be missing out.”

  “Jamie. It’s Macy and Jamie, not Jenny.”

  “Whatever.”

  Looking at the paint peeling on the walls behind the reception desk, Abby wondered if romance was supposed to be a series of disappointments. Cradling the phone with her shoulder, she tacked up a silver star to cover the blight. She’d resigned herself to her fate two years ago when she’d started dating Pierce, but lately it was starting to grate on her. She chewed on her lip, wishing for once that the right words would come to her. She’d never been good at fighting with Pierce. What with him being a full-fledged lawyer now, she’d never stood much of a chance of winning an argument, if one should ever arise. “I guess I’ll see you for New Year’s, then.”

  “Two months, and you’re in my arms? I can’t think of anything better. Talk to you next Friday, Abigail. Glad you enjoyed your Thanksgiving yesterday.”

  “You too.”

  She frowned, wishing their exchanges weren’t so formal. She’d had dozens of nicknames growing up, but Pierce always called her by her legal name. Only her mother ever used that, and solely when she was in trouble. She studied the wall behind the reception desk, wondering if the green “Merry Christmas” banner stretching across with foot-tall block letters was too much. She’d only used a fifth of the decorations she’d amassed over the years, but her boss had commented wryly that morning that it looked like Santa Claus had thrown up twinkly lights all over the office.

  Abby took that as a compliment, and made a note to bring in a few more wreaths to hang on each exam room door the next day.

  Abby slid her phone into the pocket of her thin blue scrubs and shifted the orange tabby in her arms. He’d been turned in to the clinic weeks ago, but she didn’t have high hopes for his adoption. Three-legged cats weren’t in all that high of demand. The wide-eyed feline didn’t have the dexterity to play much with the standard toys the shelter gifted all new arrivals.

  She stroked under his chin, hoping he could feel her affection. “It’s okay, RT5. Pierce is a very important lawyer. He worked hard to get this job. He’ll have more seniority next year, so he’ll be able to take time off to come to Christmas Eve with the girls. Maybe he’ll meet my friends then.”

  “You’re still doing that? That’s sweet.”

  Abby inhaled sharply and whirled around, her chestnut ponytail swinging to the side. There he was in the flesh – Cole Daniels.

  Levity lifted the corners of her heart-shaped mouth. She took in the boy she’d known, who was now the man she always made time for when he came to town. “Why, if it isn’t trouble looking in all the right places. What the crap are you doing here, Cole?”

  With a grin meant for mischief and dark brown hair that was always tousled without purpose, Cole looked every bit the boy who’d banned her from his treehouse when she’d been too young to keep up with her brother and his best friend.

  “Why, if it isn’t Abby-cat with a tabby-cat. Haven’t seen you in a year, which is three-hundred-sixty-four days too long. What’ve you been up to, Freckles?” Cole was carrying a puggle who couldn’t have been more than a year old. The caramel fur had a clean sheen, and the pup’s curly tail waggled excitedly at the sight of Abby and her feline friend.

  She knew better than to purse her lips at the nickname that brought her back to when she was five, but her mouth betrayed her, letting him know he was getting under her skin. She knew from a whole childhood of experience, that was exactly where Cole liked to be: close enough to be slapped, but far enough to maintain a that charming smile life hadn’t managed to harden over time.

  She ran her hand over RT5’s fur, raising her left eyebrow, which came to an arch that was higher than the right. “How much did you overhear?”

  Cole shrugged. “Only that you left out far too many details when you talked about your fiancé to me on the phone. I feel as if you don’t even want me to throw you a filthy bachelorette party. I’m fairly certain I can come up with something far dirtier than a bunch of giggly sorority girls.”

  Abby shook her head at him, unable to keep the grudging smile from betraying her. “You never miss a beat, do you.”

  His lips slanted in a lopsided show of compassion. “Sorry that Pierce guy is an idiot. I know how much those annual Christmas Eve meet-ups with the girls mean to you. Christmas is your thing.” He motioned around at the green and red décor that covered the walls.

  “They’ve never even met him. I don’t know why I thought this ring on my finger would change anything.” Catching herself, she waved her hand in the air to clear it of the drama. “We don’t need to talk about that. Pretend my life is going amazing, and you walked in on me having a conversation that leaves you with that exact impression.”

  His eyes bugged as he played along. “You won the lottery? Where are you taking me?”

  She sniggered at the same old goofiness he’d always been ready for. “Mars? Hawaii? Or how about sunny Nebraska?” Her shoulders fell. “I don’t know why I got my hopes up. There’s always some excuse why Pierce can’t be around my friends.” She shook her head at herself. “I’m doing it again. You probably didn’t come in here, hoping to listen to me whine.”

  “Well, it’s only my favorite sound in the world.” Then in a high-pitched drone, he did an imitation of her when she’d been in pigtails, and he’d been riding a two-wheeled bike without a problem. “‘Cole, don’t put my doll on the grass. You’re going to get her dress dirty!’”

  Batting at him with her free hand, she narrowed one eye in a faux-scold. “I didn’t sound a thing like that. And only monsters leave dolls on the grass, where anything can happen to them.”

  “Am I your very own monster?” he teased, tilting his head to the side.

  “How did I get so lucky?”

  The two studied each other from across the partition, their lips quirking at the banter that had always come easy with each other, even if it had been an uphill battle to be understood by other people in their lives.

  “I assume you didn’t come in here to comment on my freckles, either. Tell me about your little friend, here.” Her chin jutted toward the puggle, who still didn’t seem ruffled at all at the giant cat she was still holding.

  The grin she’d always
found charming teased his lips. “Well, what if I did come in here for exactly that reason? You know how much I love your freckles.” The dog in his arms leaned up to lick the five o’clock shadow that peppered his angular jaw and sculpted cheekbones.

  A telltale blush crept up her neck. She wondered idly when the last time was that she’d been paid a compliment so precious, it made her blush. “Stop being sweet. It’s making me forget that I’m still mad at you for falling off the face of the planet for an entire year. One minute, it’s you, me and Aiden palling around. Then I meet Pierce, Aiden moves away, you disappear, and Nebraska loses its own personal sun. How could you do me like that, Cole?”

  He met her gaze with hesitance, looking like he wanted to say something serious, but his grin overtook his face and swept the notion away. “I’ll tell you what happened: your brother got a job in Texas, and I didn’t want to end up working for my dad for the rest of my life. So I took a job out of state, but now I’m back. Or I will be, once I get all my stuff out of the moving van.”

  “Lousy excuse for leaving. Nebraska doesn’t forgive you one bit.” She motioned to the dog in his arms with her chin. “Who’s the cutie pie?”

  “My name’s Cole.” She mimed a laugh, and he continued. “This is Louis. He’s not actually mine. I was going to see if I could…” Then his eyes darted around to make sure no one was in the waiting room that was bedecked with tinsel and garland. He covered the dog’s ears with his larger hand and whispered across the partition to Abby. “I need to see what my options are of dropping him off to live here.”

  She opened the top drawer of the receptionist’s desk, grateful she’d stayed late if it gave her the chance to catch up with her oldest friend. “You’ll need to fill out this questionnaire, and bring in his papers from all visits with the vet. Then we interview your dog.”

  Cole’s eyebrow lifted. “You interview Louis? For what, a job interview?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly right,” she simpered, cocking her hip to the side to balance RT5 on her hip. “We interview him to see if he’d be an ideal candidate for adoption. If he is, then it’s a one-hundred-dollar donation fee, and we take him off your hands.”

  Cole’s hand brushed over the pup, who snuggled into his owner’s touch. “And what if he’s not chosen for adoption?”

  Abby jerked her thumb behind her, her tone light and unemotional. “The other vet and I put down all the unadopted animals twice a month.”

  “Jeez!” Cole jerked the dog away from her, covering Louis’ ears again as if to shield the little guy from the cruelties of the world. “Put a little whipped cream on it, Abby-girl. Them’s frightening words for a little guy like Louis.”

  Abby winced. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m usually more professional, but it’s you. See? This is why I don’t usually cover reception.” She rubbed her forehead as she concocted a better bedside manner. “The unadopted animals go live on a farm. There’s a big open field for them to play in.”

  Cole narrowed his green eyes. “Very funny.” He nuzzled his nose to the dog’s, and then cuddled Louis to his chest. The caramel dog hair dotted his checked flannel shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Maybe I’ll hold onto him a little while longer.”

  She shuffled a few papers on the desk, wondering how the receptionist could find anything, leaving such a mess. “Just so you know, the older a dog gets before he’s put up for adoption, the greater his chances of ending up on the farm.”

  Wincing, Cole held tighter to Louis. “You’ve got to help me out, Abby-girl. Louis isn’t even my dog. I was dating someone when I was living in Ohio, and she left him with me when we split. I don’t have his veterinary records. I don’t know his birth date or his history.”

  Abby’s upper lip curled in distaste. “Your ex-girlfriend up and abandoned her dog? I see you’re still fishing from the bottom of the barrel when it comes to finding dates. Good to know some things never change.”

  “Hey, now. Doesn’t sound like you’re doing much better. Felicia walked out on her dog, but your fiancé is leaving you to do Christmas without him. Even trade, if you ask me.”

  Abby guffawed. “Not even close.”

  When it was clear Cole wasn’t going to win that argument, he jerked his chin toward the tabby resting in her arm against her hip. “What’s your cat’s name?”

  “RT5.”

  “Is that like, some science fiction thing from one of your books?”

  Abby ran her fingers over RT5’s long orange fur just to hear the contented purr. “No. RT5 is his serial code for how we identify the animals. It’s simpler that way. Can’t get too attached, since I’m the one who…” Her eyes darted to Louis’ wagging tongue. “Sends them to the farm.”

  RT5 turned in her arms, revealing a patch of matted fur where his left hind leg should’ve been. Cole sucked in his breath and pointed. “What happened to him?”

  Her shoulders bobbed. “Dunno. Someone found him and brought him in like this. He’s okay, though. Little slower than the others, but there’s not a huge market for speedy cats.”

  “I guess, but yikes.” Cole scratched the scruff on his cheek. “Okay, we have to do this sitting down. Preferably with beer. I saw you go from little kid, to bookworm teen to quiet college kid, but I feel like you’ve had five lives in the past year that I know nothing about. Now you do… that for a living.”

  “I don’t just do that. I have other responsibilities. This is my degree, Cole. You knew I was a veterinarian.”

  “I guess, but I can’t picture you as the Grim Reaper for little three-legged kittens. In my mind, you’ll always be shouting at me from the bottom of the treehouse while I roll up the ladder to keep you out.”

  “Well, I can still shout at you, if you like.”

  His lopsided smile filled the silence for the span of a few beats, giving Abby something truly spectacular to admire. “What time do you clock out?”

  “I’m done here by seven. Just stayed late to clean the cages.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to be filling in the gaps for me at eight o’clock at Paulie’s Pub.”

  Abby blinked at him, unsure how she’d landed herself in a situation where Cole Daniels wanted to hang out with her without her brother as the reason he was around. “Really?”

  “I guess you belong in my treehouse after all.” He kissed Louis. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that questionnaire today. See you at eight, Abby-cat.”

  2

  Parents, and Prince Pierce

  Abby had rushed home to scrub the stink of animal shelter off of her. She changed into jeans and a lavender cotton V-neck t-shirt that made her feel feminine, but didn’t give too much away. After wearing the blue scrubs the shelter deemed a suitable uniform, she craved the softness of femininity.

  When her phone rang, she greeted her mother with a cheery “Hey, Mom.”

  “You sound happy. That’s strange. Did you win the lottery?”

  Abby sniggered at the guess. “Just having a good day, I guess.” Her mouth drew to the side as she reflected on the truth of that statement. It had been a downer to get the news that Pierce wouldn’t be able to come out for Christmas Eve, but she’d barely thought about her disappointment in light of her encounter with Cole. She’d missed her childhood friend dearly, and rushed through the ritual of making herself presentable so she could see him sooner. “What’s up, Mom?”

  “I was calling to see if you had an extra wreath. Your father put ours away last year, and when I got it out, it was all smashed. Typical man. Never does anything right.”