She cleared her throat again. “So you spend Christmas Eve at the mall? No plans tonight?”
“Just The Cocoa Bean. So far,” he added, gesturing toward the bar.
“So far?”
He took another sip. “I only came because I saw you. It was impulsive, I know, but if you headed over to Pretzelmaker, I probably would have followed you there.”
“Ah, so you’re Santa and a stalker.”
“Only when a beautiful woman pulls me aside like you did. You made the first move.”
Saylor held back a snort. “I made the first move?”
“You hopped a fence just to talk to me.”
“Yes, my son’s worries were just a deceptive ploy to get close to you.”
He went on with a casual shrug. “I didn’t have time to talk to you as much as I wanted to when you left.”
No, because he was changing out of a Santa suit. Again, she refused to allow her thoughts to stray.
“And have you had your fill of talking to me now?” She was rooted in place, captivated by this turn in their conversation, by this turn of events, period. Never in a million years would she have guessed she'd meet someone tonight.
His eyes burned into her. He sipped before answering. “Not even close. That sounded even more stalker-ish, didn’t it?” He grinned. The phone beside him buzzed, and he gave it a casual glance. "I promise, I'm not one," he added.
An awkward silence stretched between them while Saylor thought of a reply. She sipped her gradually cooling steamer, enjoying the rich mixture of white chocolate and crisp mint.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’d mind if you were," she told him. "I appreciate the company tonight.”
He sniggered. “You wouldn’t mind if I was a stalker?”
“Of course, I don’t mean that! I’m just saying...” Saylor trailed off, dipping her chin down as she realized how pitiful she was sounding. She was saying, what? She was lonely? Pathetic?
He kicked his feet out and leaned back in his seat. “Do you work?”
She nodded. “I’m a customer service rep for a technology company called Drex Corp.”
“Sounds very professional. What exactly is it that you do?”
She hadn’t asked him anything further about his work and made a mental note to remedy that. “We set up websites and email marketing for businesses, along with things like logo design, branding, that kind of thing.”
“Customer service. So when people are unhappy, you’re the one they call.”
She took another sip, getting to the bottom of her cup. “They’re not always unhappy. Sometimes they just need help.”
He tipped his cup all the way back as well. “Sounds like you’re good with computers.”
She fidgeted. "Something like that.” She decided not to mention her degree in computer programming from Twin Falls’ very own CSI. Not Crime Scene Investigation. College of Southern Idaho.
Cole eyed his phone once more, then slid to the edge of his seat and rested a hand on the table. He pierced her with those blue eyes. “Drex Corporation, you said? Isn’t that off of Pole Line, by the hospital?”
“You’re quick,” she said, impressed.
“Contractor, remember? Do you have a last name, Saylor?”
She pressed a hand across her stomach, trying to slow her pulse. “You mean you don't know what it is?"
He smiled. "Sadly, no."
“That settles it,” she said.
“Settles what?”
“A stalker would already know my last name.”
He laughed. “So I’m officially off the hook?”
“That you are.” She smiled back, unable to help it. “It’s Bates.”
“Saylor Bates.” He offered a hand. “Cole Osteen.”
Heart tense with anticipation, she tallied every nanosecond until her palm grazed across his warm skin. She inhaled at his callouses, at how good the tender touch felt.
Cole’s fingers closed around hers. Not in a formal, rapid shake, but a welcome hold. His gaze was warm, swallowing her whole. He didn’t seem to care about any of the other patrons sitting nearby, or anything else but her, until his phone buzzed again.
He frowned at it, releasing her hand.
“Are you sure you don’t have anywhere else you needed to be tonight?” she asked, gesturing to the device and taking a steadying breath. The imprint of his hand lingered in her palm. “No other Santa stops? No reindeer waiting for you on the rooftop?”
For some reason, she was self-conscious. He clearly had another obligation, one he was ignoring to keep talking to her. But why? What could he possibly see in her that was worth ignoring someone else who obviously wanted his attention?
She waited with prickles of fear and hope pinging across her skin.
He frowned, still staring down at his phone. “Actually, do you mind if I take this call? I’ll just be a minute.”
The words stung, though she couldn’t explain why. “Not at all.”
He stood. She rose as well, her chin reaching the height of his shoulders.
“Just one minute,” he said, taking the jacket slung across the back of the chair and leaving her at the table.
Expectation fluttered, heating her blood and making her palms sweat. She hadn’t been in this position in ten years, at least. Meeting someone new, feeling a spark of interest from him that mirrored her own. The excitement of a new relationship on the cusp of existence. She both dreaded it and longed for it at once.
From where she stood, Saylor had a clear view of the main hall between shops. She watched Cole slip his arms into the jacket and walk away, joining the crowds toward the exit. Each of his steps escalated her pulse, until he headed outside, into the whirling snow.
An epic sense of let-down made her shoulders slump.
That settled it. He was no different from David. No different from the first boy she’d dated back in high school, either. What was it about men who knew the exact moment her hopes were
