There’s our pretty boy,” Jonathan McDougal said, as Rafe walked into the Tap, a flurry of snow swirling in as he shut the door behind him. Jon was the owner of the popular neighborhood hangout, and apparently, he had seen the calendar.
“Pretty boy, Jon?” Rafe said, raising a brow.
“Oh, he’s just jealous,” Jon’s wife, Maggie, said, brushing her gray hair aside as she slid some menus into the holder on the wall behind the bar. “We all know Rafe’s more than just a pretty boy—he’s Mr. December.”
“Ha ha, right. Thanks, Maggie,” Rafe said. Maggie was also a paramedic, and he was used to her ribbing. Off to his right, he heard a giggle. Two young, pretty women sitting at the other end of the bar were looking at him and whispering to each other. One of them wiggled her fingers in a little wave.
He smiled back, but it wasn’t genuine. Not his usual lady-killer smile. But the woman flashed him a big smile back, and he knew that if he wanted to, he could land her number in a heartbeat.
Not that Rafe was cocky or arrogant. He just…knew women.
Well, some women. But definitely not one woman in particular whom he couldn’t figure out for the life of him.
It was really unlike him to get his suspenders in such a twist. He should be excited that Mr. December was bringing him new dating opportunities, but he just…wasn’t. He was losing his touch. Had been for the past few months. What was wrong with him?
Across the bar, the women stood up and began to head to the door. The one who waved at him earlier was trying to make eye contact, but he made sure not to look.
“Mr. December?” Eli Nelson, a carpenter buddy who was sitting at the bar, chuckled as he took a swig of beer.
Evan Marshall, the full-time police deputy who sat next to Eli, teased him. “December’s going to be a great month for you—every day will be like Christmas with all the women you’re going to meet.”
“He had on Santa pants and a cute Santa hat,” Maggie said, gesturing excitedly as she handed Rafe a beer, “and the only thing hiding those amazing abs was a tiny little kitten. Next December’s going to be my permanent calendar page.” Her voice faded as Jon stared at her.
“Oh, honey,” she said, kissing her husband on the cheek and lovingly patting his beard, “you’ll always be my favorite Santa.” Everyone knew that Jon played Santa for the women’s shelter Christmas party every year.
“Aw, look at that,” Rafe said, watching Jon’s ruddy complexion turn even ruddier with a blush.
Jon smiled at his wife, mollified. Turning to Rafe, he said, “Maybe you should do something with all that Santa talent.”
“Yeah, like what?” Rafe asked, taking a sip of his beer.
“How about taking over being Santa this year for the women’s shelter?”
“How come you’re not doing it?” Rafe asked. Jon had the great beard, the deep laugh, and the stockier build. The perfect Santa.
“One of our kiddos has a Christmas program that night,” Maggie said. “As much as we love helping out the shelter kids, we’ve got to pass this year.”
“So how about it?” Jon said. “I’ve seen you with your niece and nephew. You’re a natural.”
Being a fun uncle was one thing. But playing Santa for an entire roomful of shelter kids was another thing entirely.
“The only people who get to sit on my lap are single women.” Rafe grinned to punctuate the joke and left it at that.
Evan and Eli howled, and Jon threw up his hands.
Maggie, however, shook her head. “I’m glad you’re having fun being a pinup now, Rafe, but sooner or later you’ll be happier to have a wife at your side and a baby on your lap.”
He flashed his brightest smile and used his most joking voice, but deep down, he meant every word. “Don’t hold your breath, Maggie. Sorry.” Because it would never happen.
Rafe had been there, done that, and vowed to never go there again. Eight years ago, his fiancée had died in a car accident, on the way to a doctor’s appointment. She’d been eight weeks pregnant, a fact that only a few people knew.
Rafe understood himself pretty well, and he knew he was not capable of surviving that kind of loss again. And if joking about never settling down made him seem calloused, or insensitive, or whatever, he was okay with that. He knew his limits.
“Hey, a couple of us are going into Richardson tomorrow night to have some fun,” Evan said with a grin. “Want to come?”
“Thanks, Evan, but I’m busy this weekend,” Rafe said. He wasn’t that busy—he just wasn’t in the mood to pick up women. Which was odd because usually he was all in for that.
But lately, all he could seem to think about was Kaitlyn.
Kaitlyn, whom he’d known forever. Who was best friends with two of his sisters and practically part of his family. Whom he’d impulsively slept with after they’d had too much fun together at a wedding because he’d been unable to resist her. And he’d regretted it ever since.
If he were completely honest with himself, over the past couple of years, on top of their friendship, there’d been something else brewing. Attraction. A certain…fondness. Feelings. Somewhere along the line, Kaitlyn had gone from that nice-enough girl who always hung out with his sisters to a funny, vivacious woman who made him laugh and who sometimes knew him better than he knew himself. It was no wonder they struck up an even closer friendship after she broke up with her last boyfriend. But he knew from the start that he had to draw a thick line in the sand, one that could never be crossed.
He’d tried to keep her at arm’s length, but he’d let his guard down that night—and the unthinkable had happened. But it would never happen again. Sleeping with her had messed everything up—their easy conversation, the jokes and banter he looked forward to every day. And now he had no idea how to get them back to the fun and easy friendship they had.
Because not having Kaitlyn in his life ironically made him think about her more. And that was ruining his mojo. He hated having his mojo ruined.
“C’mon, Rafe,” Eli said. “You’re scaring us. Snap out of it, because wingmen need love too.”
Rafe turned to Evan and Eli and sighed. “Buy me another beer and that might twist my arm.”
For the next half hour, Rafe managed to laugh and make small talk and buy another round. So maybe he wasn’t really in the mood to do any of these things, but what was it that his mom used to say? Even if you don’t feel like doing something, do it anyway—and you’ll be surprised how your mood will change.
Have to take your word on that, Mom, he thought, lifting his beer a little in salute. She’d been gone a long time, but one thing he remembered: his mom had used humor to make people feel better. The only trouble with that was that people expected you to be funny all the time, regardless of what you were feeling underneath.
A half hour later, the beer gone, Rafe said his goodbyes and walked out into the cold. It was snowing pretty heavily now, the flakes big and fat, the kind that stuck to your eyelashes and your coat. The cold air felt good—it woke him up and pulled him out of his thoughts, made him focus on something other than Kaitlyn.
His truck was parked in the lot, but he didn’t get in, just kept going. He told himself he needed a brisk walk to clear his head, that he didn’t care where his feet led him. But he did care. And he knew exactly where he was headed.
* * *
The Bean was closed for the night, but Rafe found himself on his way there anyway. Kaitlyn was probably inside tidying up before tomorrow’s morning rush. He missed seeing the way she tucked her pretty blond hair behind her ear and smiled. And talking to her about everything and nothing. He missed her, period.
And, God help him, he missed the thing that had ruined their friendship. Sinking onto her softness, murmuring her name as he brushed his lips against her soft full ones, hearing her little moans as she kissed him back and came apart in his arms.
He shook his head to clear the images. But he couldn’t, and they’d already affected him, if the tightening in his pants was any indicator.
He told himself he was going to the Bean to set things right. Because she meant too much to him to let things continue as they were. After all, they’d been best friends until that had happened.
“Rafe?” a familiar voice said. “What are you doing out there?”
Kaitlyn. Startled, he realized he’d been standing in front of the Bean’s big plate glass windows, staring in. He wasn’t sure for how long.
She was fussing over him, tugging him by the arm. “It’s freezing, and you haven’t even got your jacket zipped. And where are your hat and gloves? Geez, you’re covered with snow.” Her busy hands dusted off the coating of snow that had accumulated on his hair, his coat.
“I was at the Tap for a while,” he said. He’d never admit it, but he enjoyed her fussing. Her touch.
He wondered if this was how it was going to be, that they were both going to pretend everything was normal between them, like they hadn’t been avoiding each other for months.
As she pulled him inside of the warm, deserted café and steered him over to a table, he noticed she smelled good, like dark rich coffee. And apples and cinnamon.
She placed a hand on a hip and assessed him. “Did you eat dinner?” she asked. “Don’t even answer. I’m making you a sandwich. And I’ve got some chicken soup left.”
“Why are you still here?” he asked. “It’s Friday night. Don’t you have a date or something?” Oh no. Why did he say that?
“I was…going over some numbers,” she said.
“You look pretty,” he said. Oh, even worse. Why had he come here when it was clear his foot was going to spend the entire time in his mouth?
She halted halfway to the kitchen and turned. “Rafe Langdon, are you drunk?” She frowned and tiny lines appeared between her eyes. He wanted to smooth them with his fingers. No, he wanted to kiss them away.
What on earth was he thinking? He had to stop being an idiot.
“Just a little,” he said. He wasn’t at all. But if saying so would help excuse his foot-mouth situation, so be it.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Getting the attention off himself was a relief, but he was genuinely worried, noticing the dark circles rimming her eyes. He could swear she blushed at his question.
“Of course I am.” She sounded fine—maybe a little too fine, in his opinion. Like she was trying hard to convince him. “Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. He knew everything about her too well. The way she blushed when something was bothering her, the way worry filled her blue eyes and made her press her lips together in a tight line. “Just that you look tired.” On the table was a clipping from a magazine. He lifted it up. “What’s this for?”
She took it out of his hands. “Nothing. It’s…nothing.”
He snagged it back and read it. “A recipe contest?”
She shrugged nonchalantly, but her fingers tapped restlessly on the table. “It’s just something I’m thinking of entering.”
He searched her eyes as he slid the clipping back in her direction. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Rafe…don’t.”
“My sisters told me your niece is having some problems. Everything all right?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine.” She lowered her eyes. “Actually, just between the two of us, she got caught tonight trying to lift a magazine from the pharmacy.”
Her pretty blue gaze flicked up at him. Between the two of us. What would it be like for there to actually be a two of them? But he knew better than anyone that there was no chance of that ever happening. After he’d lost Claire and their unborn baby, he’d made a pact with himself…never again. Never. Again.
No matter how much he cared about Kaitlyn or how sometimes he had moments where he thought they’d be amazing together…she deserved someone normal. Unscarred. And capable of love. Which he was not.
“Just a magazine?” Rafe asked.
Kaitlyn frowned. “There’s no such thing as ‘just a magazine.’ Plus, you know she was caught shoplifting in California too.”
“What I mean is, if you’re going to be bad, why not go for the cash register? Or the narcs.”
“Rafe!” Her voice sounded horrified but it was clear she was suppressing a laugh.
He grinned. It was so easy to loosen her up, to make her smile. He felt a sudden surge of pride that he hadn’t lost his touch with her at least. “Wasn’t she supposed to get a job to teach her some responsibility? And you know, so she wouldn’t have time to shoplift?” he asked. “I thought that was the deal your mom made with her.”
“My mom never insisted on it. So I just hired her.” Kaitlyn sent him a look that he knew meant What have I done? But she’d never say that.
He blew out a breath. “Kaitlyn, that’s kind of you, but—you sure that’s a good idea? It sounds like the kid needs more than a job.”
“I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her this way. And maybe I could…I don’t know. Try to figure out what’s going on with her.” She dropped her voice. “I couldn’t just do…nothing.”
He nodded sympathetically. Kaitlyn was known for taking on lost causes—stray cats, lonely customers…him. Before he could say anything, she’d jumped up and run into the kitchen. She came back a minute later with soup and a sandwich, which tasted like the best he’d ever had, and he thanked her.
“So why the recipe contest?” he asked as they sat together while he finished eating. “Don’t you have enough to do?”
She heaved a sigh. “My grandfather had this recipe for chocolate snowcap cookies that was amazing. I know it would win the contest. But it’s…lost. No one knows where it is and my mom doesn’t remember how to make them.”
“And this is important why?” Her voice held an edge of passion, and something else—desperation, maybe?—but for a recipe contest?
Kaitlyn blushed. “Nikki makes too much money for Hazel to qualify for full financial aid for school. So she’d have to take out massive amounts of loans. If I win this contest…voilà…college money.”
“Is Hazel going to take pastry classes too?” He tried not to sound skeptical, but he hoped this scheme wasn’t all for Hazel. He knew how much Kaitlyn loved the Bean and how she always wanted to experiment with new recipes.
“Those are for me. For the Bean’s future. I know it’s crazy and a long shot but…it’s a shot I want to take.”
“Well then, you’ve got to take it.” He sat back and smiled—because he couldn’t help it.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Just that it reminds me of that time you invented that coffee milkshake to sell in the Bean.”
She put a hand to her forehead. “Don’t remind me. That tasted terrible!”
“It wasn’t that bad. You looked pretty hot serving it up to everyone who walked by wearing that stuffed coffee bean costume.”
“What?” she said, rolling her eyes. “That stuffed bean costume was not sexy.”
“I mean, I’m just joking,” he backpedaled. “You always look nice.” Okay, he was blathering, and he needed to stop. Right now. Even though the coffee bean costume had been kind of hot—with her long legs in yellow tights under the stuffed bean part. But why he was even thinking about that he had no idea.
Frankly, right now, she looked more than nice. And that way she had of nervously worrying her lower lip was making him crazy. He wanted to stop talking about baking contests, reach over the table, pull her into his arms, and kiss her sweet full lips. He had a few other ideas too, about how to get her to relax. All of which were completely out of line.
Instead, he gave a nonchalant shrug. “The point is, you went for it. And I think you should follow your instincts on this too. Why not?”
She smiled. “Well—thanks for your support. It means a lot that you don’t think I’m crazy.”
“You are crazy but…Nothing ventured, nothing baked.” He quirked his mouth in a wry grin.
She gave a snorty, sudden laugh. “Okay, you’re crazy too.”
“Probably,” Rafe said, setting down the clipping. “You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?” He’d said that already—probably because he was too afraid to say what was really on his mind.
Kaitlyn swallowed and dropped her gaze from his. “I’m fine. How have you been?”
He ignored the question and placed his hand over hers on the table, and she immediately stiffened. But he cut to the chase anyway. “Kaitlyn, I—miss you. I miss how we used to talk. I miss my…friend.”
“We became more than friends that night at the wedding, Rafe.”
He smoothed his thumb over the back of her palm. “That part was…That was really good too.” What was he doing? He had no business touching her. Wanting her. Or allowing her to believe he could give her what she wanted. “Not that I remember much, that is. I mean, we’d both had too much to drink, and…”
“Yeah,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I mean, I don’t either. Remember, that is.”
“Oh.” She didn’t? The truth of the matter was he remembered too much. The way she felt, soft and warm in his arms. The way she kissed him, breathless and passionate, their kisses breaking down a mountain of forbidden feelings between them.
At least that’s how it had been for him.
But he couldn’t tell her that because he had no intention of acting on any feelings he might have for her. He didn’t have feelings.
He pushed down his irrational disappointment and continued. “It was obviously a mistake. One we won’t be stupid enough to make again.”
“No, of course not,” she said hurriedly. Disappointment riffled through him, settling in his stomach. She didn’t care about him like that. So why wasn’t he relieved?
“I value our friendship a lot,” she said, sounding like she was letting him down gently.
“Me too. I would never want anything to mess that up. Especially not a dumb…mistake.” It was a dumb mistake, right? He almost expected her to cut in, interrupt him. Deny it. “I mean, I’d never want to ruin our friendship by trying to have a…relationship.”
“Rafe, I’m not one of those women you have to try and get out of things with.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Great. He knew what that look meant—that she was 100 percent serious about something. “I don’t…expect anything from you.”
He sat there, tapping the tips of his fingers together anxiously. Of course she wouldn’t be demanding or pressure him for more. She was different than other women. Still, her low expectations of him niggled in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
“So how about we go back to being…just friends?” That he could handle.
“We’ll always be friends, Rafe.” She looked right at him, her pretty blue eyes deep with feeling. But he couldn’t shake the sense that she was rejecting him. Writing him off. “But after what happened, I can’t…It can’t go back to the way it used to be. Things are…different now.”
“They don’t have to be.” He sounded a little desperate, but he needed things to go back to the way they were before. Their relaxed, easy friendship. Sharing laughs, hanging out. Talking to her about the latest crazy news around town or really anything that was on his mind. Surely they could put this inconvenient…attraction aside for both their sakes. They had to.
Kaitlyn sighed. “Well, they are different. Look, I have something to say, and I’m just going to come out and be honest. I’m—”
She was interrupted by Rafe’s phone ringing. On the phone a photo came up beside the caller’s name. It was of him and a woman he’d met at a bar with his friends, his arm around her, both of them smiling for a selfie. He pressed ignore, hoping Kaitlyn didn’t see it.
Too late. Kaitlyn glanced from his phone to him but didn’t say anything.
“What were you saying?” he asked.
“The night of the wed—”
His phone rang again. Same woman calling. Again he pressed ignore.
“Maybe you should get that,” she said. “It looks important.” She nodded toward the picture on the phone.
“I doubt it. She’s just someone I met out the other night.” Someone who was clearly interested.
“You two look pretty cozy.”
His first impulse was to tell her the truth. That it had been the woman’s idea to take a selfie together and put her number into his phone. And that he’d rather sit all night with Kaitlyn than answer a call from someone else.
But what good would that do? He knew the answer to that, and he also knew what he had to do. He picked up his phone and pressed a few buttons and looked Kaitlyn dead in the eye. “I always do that when someone wants my number.”
“Do what?” she asked innocently.
“Take a selfie so I don’t forget who she is.” He pocketed the phone and stood to go, trying not to wince at what he’d just said. “I’m glad you don’t hate me, Katie. Your friendship means too much to me.”
Friendship, he reminded himself. Just that and nothing more.
“Rafe, you’re such an idiot. But I could never hate you.” She stepped forward and hugged him. Her voice sounded a little funny, a little cracked.
Only she would hug him after he’d been such a jerk. He inhaled the sweet smell of her hair, felt the softness of her cheek as it brushed past his. Deep down, his stomach ached from the lie. After a few seconds, he pulled back and held her at arm’s length. “You know I love you, Katie.” Then his phone rang again, vibrating from his pocket. “What was it you were going to tell me?”
Kaitlyn was staring at him, her eyes a little watery. “Oh, just…just that…that your friendship means a lot to me too. And…and we’ll figure out where to go from here.”
Where to go from here? That didn’t sound good. But he had faith they’d figure it out, now that he knew she didn’t hate him. “We will.” Then he tossed her a wave and headed back out to the street.
His phone buzzed yet again. He was a second away from blocking the number when he hesitated. Took a deep breath of frosty air. This time when he picked it up, he decided to follow his mom’s advice again. “Hey, Jade. Yeah, I’ve been thinking about you too.”
Maybe if he willed that to be true, he could drive all thoughts of Kaitlyn out of his head for good.