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The Birthday List by Devney Perry (8)

 

Cole’s interest in Jamie’s birthday list surprised me. No one but me had ever gotten excited about the list since Jamie had died, but Cole was genuinely curious. And eager, maybe? Whatever it was, I liked the sparkle it added to his eyes.

“Okay, um . . .” The best way for me to explain everything on the list was just to hand over the journal, except no one but me and Jamie had ever touched it before. Would it be strange to let Cole read it? Would that have bothered Jamie? I smiled to myself. No. Jamie had been so proud of his list, he’d have plastered it on a billboard.

“Be right back.” I held up a finger to Cole, then got up from the table and walked to the register. Leaning over the counter, I dug through my purse, which I’d stashed underneath the register. When my fingers brushed leather, I pulled out Jamie’s journal, stroking the cover once before standing back up.

The second I turned back to our table, I found Cole’s gaze locked on the place where my ass had just been. His eyes were darker, the spark behind them now a blaze. He didn’t even try to hide it as his gaze traced up my stomach and over my breasts. He lingered a bit on my chest, drawing out his inspection, until he finally continued to my face. When his stare found my lips, I fought the urge to lick them. When he found my eyes, I didn’t want to blink.

Sexy. Cole was the epitome of sexy. The sexiest man I’d ever seen.

No, not Cole. Jamie. What was wrong with me? I blinked, forcing my eyes away from Cole’s as I mentally chastised myself again. Jamie was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Jamie. My husband.

Cole was just new. That’s why I found him so attractive. I hadn’t spent years with him, studying his face and finding flaws. I bet if I looked at him long enough, I’d realize that his ears were kind of pointed and his eyebrows were on the bushy side. And he had to have some imperfections underneath his jeans and black polo. No one was that cut—not in real life.

If I spent the time with Cole, like I had with Jamie, I’d realize he wasn’t an Adonis. He was just a man. A man who wasn’t Jamie.

A man who was now looking at me with furrowed eyebrows—which weren’t bushy at all.

I unglued my sneakers from the floor and walked back to the table, holding out the journal for Cole. “Here. This was Jamie’s birthday list.”

He looked at it for a moment, not taking it from my outstretched hand. “Are you sure?”

I gave him a sad smile, glad that he understood how much trust I was giving him. “Go ahead.”

Cole wiped his hands on a napkin before he took the book, then he carefully opened the cover. I sat back down, concentrating on my meal as he slowly flipped through the journal, and did my best not to stare with every swish of a turning page. Every once in a while, he’d let out a small chuckle. On other pages, I’d catch him frowning—I doubted he liked the fire alarm item.

When he reached the end, Cole surprised me by going back to the beginning, starting again.

“I’ll get dessert.”

Cole didn’t glance up from the journal. “Thanks.”

Clearing my plate and his, I went back to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. Then I went back out front to get Cole’s desserts in the oven. Molly was busy clearing a couple of tables so I took a few moments to breathe and watch the timer on the oven tick down.

I’d figured out a way to partially bake my minipies when I was prepping them so that when a customer came in, they only had to wait five minutes instead of twenty. They weren’t quite as good as they were completely fresh, but the only person who knew the difference seemed to be me.

So for the five minutes that Cole’s pies were baking, I did my best to settle the anxiety that had grown ever since I’d handed him the journal.

My fingers tapped on the counter as I tried to make sense of my nerves. Was I nervous to hear what Cole had to say about Jamie’s list? Or nervous that he’d think me doing the list was stupid? Or worse, was I nervous that Cole would think Jamie’s ideas were stupid?

Given the short time we’d spent together, it surprised me how much Cole’s opinion mattered. I knew he liked me, but I wanted him to like Jamie too.

And the birthday list was Jamie.

The timer dinged, ending my reprieve, and on autopilot, I took out the pies and wrapped them in napkins before adding a dollop of ice cream on both. Then I carried them on a tray back to the table, where Cole had closed the journal and was watching me with a seriousness that only made my anxiety spike.

“These are still hot.” I set down his jars and took my seat. I slid my hands underneath my bouncing knees so I wouldn’t flap them around as we talked.

Cole grabbed the apple pie first, taking a small bite with his spoon. “Wow. No wonder Randall wants ten of these a day.” He took another bite, sucking in some air to cool down the crust. “This is amazing.”

I smiled as pride swelled. I knew my desserts were good, but Cole’s approval felt incredible. I hadn’t been this excited about my silly little apple pies since the first night I’d made them for Jamie.

“That’s quite a list.” Cole nodded toward the journal in between bites.

“It is.” My smile faltered at the way his jaw hardened.

“Are you planning on doing these all by yourself?”

“Um, yes.” How else was I going to get through them all?

“That’s going to take a while.”

“I hope not,” I sighed. “My goal is to get them done before New Year’s.”

“What?” His spoon dropped into the jar, clinking against the glass. “That’s less than six months away.”

“I know.” Just thinking about all I still had to do made my shoulders fall. “I thought I could do it, but with the restaurant and some of the bigger things on the list, it will take longer. I was really hoping to have it done before Jamie’s birthday.”

That seemed impossible now. With the restaurant and all of the other things I was adding to my daily schedule, piling on more was going to wear me thin. If I didn’t let up, my self-imposed deadline would stress me to the max.

Which meant it would take just that much longer to put this list behind me. Could I do it if I added another year? Maybe two?

I didn’t have to do this all so soon. But I wanted to. I wanted to do this for Jamie and let it go. Every day, I was getting stronger. I was getting back on my feet. I was starting to live again—for me.

And until the list was done, I’d still be living for Jamie.

“Look.” Cole leaned his elbows on the table. “I don’t want to step on your toes. This is an awesome list and he had some cool ideas. If you want to do them on your own, I understand. I get that this is incredibly personal. But if you’d like, I’d be glad to help you with some of these.”

“What?” I didn’t know what made me smile more. That he thought Jamie’s list was cool or that he wanted to help. Regardless, I was beaming. “You’d really help?”

Cole’s eyes were sparkling again. “In a heartbeat.”

“Well? What do you think?” I asked.

The restaurant was clean and closed, and while we’d been prepping in the kitchen for tomorrow, I’d been telling Molly everything about my dinner with Cole.

“I don’t know.” She grabbed another tomato to chop for the salad jars. “Do you want his help?”

“Yes,” I admitted as I rolled out my piecrust.

Finn and Molly would help if I asked, but they each had so much on their plates already. And something about bringing Cole onboard felt . . . right. The instant he’d told me he’d help, a rush of confidence had spread through my veins. For the first time in weeks, I felt like this might actually happen. I might actually finish Jamie’s list by the end of the year.

“I think it’s a good thing.” Molly grinned. “If he’s willing, then take him up on his offer. And besides that, I think it’ll be good for you to spend some time with someone else. A man someone else.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“I know. Your intentions are strictly platonic. But I also know that you’ve got the hots for the guy.”

“I don’t have—”

“And that scares you to death.”

Denial would be pointless so I stopped rolling the dough to tell her the truth. “So much. And it makes me feel guilty. So guilty.”

Molly set down her knife to look at me. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. Jamie would want you to be happy.”

“But I don’t want to forget him. Every day I feel like he’s slipping further and further away from me.” And every moment I spent with Cole, that slip happened faster and faster. Last night I’d broken down in tears because I couldn’t get the picture of Cole’s eyes out of my head. I’d ended up studying Jamie’s picture for an hour, trying to re-memorize his eyes and block out Cole’s.

But as much as I wanted to block him out, Cole Goodman was on my mind.

“Poppy, just because you find yourself attracted to another man doesn’t mean you’ll forget Jamie. It just means you’re letting him go. Wasn’t that what this whole list was about?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I just . . . it hurts.”

My heart had been in pieces since the night Jamie had been killed. It had taken every day of the last five years for the pain in my chest to fade to a dull ache. Still, it was there. And after every one of my interactions with Cole, that ache flared. Because when I was with Cole, I wasn’t remembering Jamie.

Cole made me forget the pain.

“I miss Jamie.” My voice cracked as the burn of tears hit my eyes. “I miss him every day. At the same time, I want to move on with my life. I know Jamie would be pissed that I’ve spent the last five years crying for him. But if I move on, who will remember him? All he has is his family and me to keep him alive.”

Molly rounded the table and pulled me into a hug. “Remember what you decided after Jamie died? How you’d get through?”

I nodded. “Minute by minute.”

After Jamie’s funeral, I’d spent months in bed. I’d sunk into a crippling depression, barely able to function on my own. Finally, Finn and Molly had gotten so worried that they’d flown my parents to town and staged an intervention. My parents had asked me to move home to Alaska, and I’d almost agreed, until Finn and Molly had announced they were pregnant with Kali. That was the first time I’d smiled after Jamie had died, and it had been my turning point. That day, I’d decided to stay so I could be here for Kali’s birth, and I’d decided to take life minute by minute. Some minutes were better than others, but it was the only way I’d been able to live a life without my husband.

Minute by minute.

“My advice is to take things with Cole minute by minute. Can you try that? And remember, you have to say yes.”

I smiled and hugged her tighter. “Yes. I’ll try.”

Molly’s phone rang on the table, interrupting our hug. I sniffled as she let me go, and swallowed the burn in my throat, determined not to cry.

“Hey,” Molly answered the call. “Okay, sure.”

She lifted the phone from her ear and held it out as Finn’s FaceTime request popped up on the screen.

“Hi, Mommy!” Kali’s little voice filled the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetie!” Molly beamed at her daughter. “How are you? You look so pretty and clean. Did you just have bath time?”

Kali nodded. “I’m in my bed too.”

“I’m so glad you called. Did you have fun at Daddy’s tonight?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled and snuggled closer into Finn’s chest.

“Were they good?” Molly asked my brother.

“Yeah. Sorry, Max fell asleep early before we could call.”

“That’s okay.”

“Mommy? Is tomorrow a Daddy night or a Mommy night?”

“It’s a Mommy night.”

I pulled my top lip between my teeth to keep from speaking up. Mommy nights. Daddy nights. I wanted to scream at Finn and pound on the table until Molly and my brother realized what they were missing. They were throwing love away. I’d give anything to have Jamie back, and here they were, wasting a happy life because they were too stubborn to look past some mistakes.

But as always, I kept my mouth shut and went back to my piecrust.

“Say good night, Kali,” Finn ordered. “It’s late.”

Kali yawned. “Night night, Mommy.”

Molly blew her a kiss. “Night night, Kali bug. I love you.”

“Bye,” Finn muttered and ended the call.

Molly tossed the phone on the counter and braced her hands on the metal, hanging her head between her shoulders.

Oh, Molly. Mine wasn’t the only troubled heart in this kitchen.

When her shoulders started to shake, I abandoned my crust and went to her side, wrapping her in another hug. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded and swiped away the tears. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t cry.”

“You can always cry, especially on me.” I’d cried on her shoulder more times than I could count. “And it’s not only your fault. You both made mistakes.”

Molly shook her head. “No. This is on me.”

“But—”

“I cheated on him, Poppy.” I cringed as she stressed that ugly word again. “End of story. End of marriage.”

End of discussion.

She stepped out of my embrace, drying her face as she went back to her chopping and I went back to the piecrust. We worked in silence for an hour, both deep in our own heads, until finally Molly spoke up.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone other than Finn. Maybe you’ll never love anyone other than Jamie. But will you promise me something? I don’t want us both to live our lives with broken hearts. If someone new comes along—if he already has—promise you won’t let fear keep you from trying again.”

I crossed my heart. “Yes, I promise.”

A few days after Cole had offered to help me with Jamie’s birthday list, I was at Lindley Park with my phone angled up to my face as I attempted to take a selfie.

“What are you doing?” Cole asked.

I dropped my phone, surprised to see Cole standing a few feet away. Damn it. I’d hoped to have a few minutes alone to take my daily picture.

“Um, nothing. Just taking a selfie.” Or twelve.

He grinned. “Pictures usually look better when you smile.”

“I hate selfies.” I grimaced. “My nose is too big for selfies.”

“What? You do not have a big nose.”

“I have nearly two hundred pictures proving you wrong.” I’d never thought my nose was big until I’d started this selfie ritual. Now I was finding props—a book, a coffee mug, my hand—to cover it for my daily picture.

“Give me that.” Cole snatched the phone from my hand. “Now sit on that bench and smile.”

I slumped on the metal seat, scrunching up my nose to give him an exaggerated toothy grin.

He dropped his arms and frowned. “I’ve seen mug shots better than that.”

I laughed, and just as I did, he snapped a picture. “There. Was that so hard?”

I pushed off the bench and walked to his side, peering around his arms at the picture. “Not bad, Detective. Not bad at all.”

“Picture a day for a year?” he guessed.

“Yep,” I said, popping the p. “There were a couple of days where I almost forgot at the beginning but now it’s habit.”

My first picture had been on Jamie’s birthday. I’d made his favorite chocolate cake and taken a picture with all his candles. Since then, I’d tried to take my selfies without tears and puffy eyes.

Today’s picture would be my first nonselfie to add to the stack.

“Thanks for meeting me today.” Since the restaurant closed after lunch on Sundays, I’d texted Cole and asked if he’d meet me at the park so we could make a plan to tackle some of the bigger items on the birthday list.

“Glad to. Do you want to hang out here or walk around?”

“A walk sounds good.” I swung out my arm. “Lead the way.”

Cole brushed past me and I caught a whiff of his natural scent mixed with traces of Irish Spring. My big nose acted on its own and followed that smell, sucking in so much air through my nostrils that they whizzed. To an onlooker, I probably looked ridiculous, following Cole’s movements with my nose, but he smelled so good, so different, I needed just one more breath.

“Allergies?” Cole asked over his shoulder.

My hand flew to my face, rubbing my nose quickly as I lied. “No, uh, just an itch.”

Smooth, Poppy. Real smooth.

I uncovered my nose and jogged to Cole’s side, walking as close to the edge of the path as possible, hoping the distance would keep me from catching another intoxicating whiff.

“I can’t remember the last time I walked through a park,” Cole said as I fell in step with him. “College maybe.”

“Did you go to MSU?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I got my bachelor’s before going to the academy.”

“We must have been there about the same time then. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one. You?”

“Twenty-nine. I wonder if we ever passed each other in a hallway.”

He shook his head. “Doubtful.”

“Were you not on campus much or something?”

“No.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Doubtful because I would have remembered seeing you around.”

Maybe it was the bright afternoon sunlight—or maybe it was because I was staring at his mouth—but for the first time, I noticed Cole had two small dimples when he smiled. And damn if they didn’t make his smile just that much sexier.

Just when I thought I had the breath-hitching thing under control, he produced dimples.

“It sure is hot today.” I fanned my face, hoping he’d think my shortness of breath and flushed cheeks were from the weather.

Cole just chuckled. “Sure is.”

We walked quietly for a few minutes, and with each step, I relaxed more and more in Cole’s company. It was always like that. I’d need five to ten minutes just to calm my racing heart—to settle down and breathe easy again. Which is why I loved that Cole never rushed us into conversation. He set the perfect pace where I was concerned. Not too slow. Not too fast.

So we took our time, walking on the path through the park, enjoying the summer afternoon.

It really was hot today, the July sun shining high in the cloudless blue sky, and I was glad I’d changed into a pair of cut-off shorts and a green tank before I’d left the restaurant. My rubber flip-flops crunched along the gravel path that wound between the trees. Even Cole was in flip-flops; the tan canvas straps looked so small on his big feet.

Today was the first time I’d seen Cole out of his normal black Bozeman PD polo or T-shirt. He was still wearing faded blue jeans that hung perfectly from his narrow hips, but without the gun and badge attached to his belt, he looked different. Younger. Less serious. More handsome. Not many guys could pull off a coral T-shirt, but Cole did. The color brought out the dark green flecks in his eyes and highlighted the tan on his face and forearms.

I did my best not to stare but stole glances every few steps.

“The carnival is coming up in a couple weeks.” Cole finally spoke up as we reached a part of the trail shaded by towering evergreens. “Want some company as you go on the rides?”

Jamie had always wanted to go on all the rides at the county fair. Every single one, including the kiddie rides. But while they’d been my husband’s thing, carnival rides were definitely not for me.

“Would you mind? I get a little motion sick. I might need some encouragement to make it through them all.”

Cole stopped walking. “Are you going to puke on me?”

“No.” I laughed and kicked a pinecone. “Well, not intentionally.”

He grinned. “I’ll agree to go as long as you promise not to eat anything beforehand.”

I crossed my heart. “Promise.”

We both laughed as we fell back in step.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Jamie’s old truck. I called a couple of mechanics in town to see how much it would cost to get it restored, and it’s a fortune. I don’t suppose you know a decent mechanic who would cut me a deal?”

Jamie had bought an old truck in high school with the hope of restoring it. Since I knew nothing about fixing cars, I was going to have to hire out the restoration, but with everything I’d sunk into the restaurant, I couldn’t afford to spend a huge amount. Definitely not as much as I’d been quoted over the past couple of weeks.

Cole rubbed his jaw. “I can probably handle the simple stuff. Replacing panels. Tuning up the engine. Things like that. My dad and I actually fixed up a couple of cars together when I was a kid, just as a hobby. I’ll have to see the truck to know exactly what needs to be done, but if I did some of the work, you’d save some money.”

“Cole, I can’t ask you to do all of that. You’re too busy as it is.”

“I’ll make time.” He nudged my elbow with his. “Besides, I like fixing old classics. It will be fun for me too.”

Having someone else restore that truck wasn’t what Jamie would have done—he’d have done it himself—but I didn’t have that luxury. It was either pay someone to do it for me or let Cole.

“I won’t be able to help. I know absolutely nothing about cars.”

“That’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

And just like that, Cole made one of the more daunting items on Jamie’s list seen manageable. This was big, asking Cole to fix up Jamie’s truck with little to no help from me. And after this, I wouldn’t ask for more. I wouldn’t take advantage of Cole’s generosity. But I would let him take on the truck.

A surge of confidence hit me again. I will finish Jamie’s list. I would do this for my husband.

“Thank you. For helping me. For looking into Jamie’s case. I really appreciate it.”

He stepped closer. “I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

His soft, intimate tone gave me heart flutters, but pain quickly chased them away.

My heart flutters were supposed to be for Jamie.

Guilt. Guilt was a heavy beast. It settled like a dead weight in my chest. I took a step away from Cole, retreating as far away from him as possible on the narrow path, in an attempt to lessen guilt’s load.

Cole sensed it—the line I drew between us—and he stayed on his side of the trail.

We walked for a while, quiet again, watching as others enjoyed the summer day. Dogs were playing in the grass, chasing balls and each other. Kids were climbing all over the jungle gym as moms watched from nearby. A young couple cuddled on a large blanket, the woman reading as the man napped.

“Tell me about Jamie,” Cole said, taking my attention from people watching.

“You want to know about Jamie?”

“Yeah. What was he like? He was a teacher, right?”

I nodded. “Seventh grade English and social studies. I could never do that job, but he loved it. Kids that age were his favorite. Older than kindergarteners, not quite asshole teenagers.”

Cole chuckled. “I do better with the asshole teenagers.”

I smiled. “And I do better with the kindergarteners.”

“What else?”

I thought about it for a minute, sorting through all of the wonderful things I could say about Jamie. “He was a joker. He loved making others laugh—probably why he was so good with preteens. He didn’t care if he made a dork of himself. What you saw with Jamie was what you got.”

Kind of like Cole. He didn’t try to mask his feelings. He didn’t pretend to be anything other than who he was.

“He loved teasing me.” It was one of the ways Jamie showed people that he loved them. I missed the teasing.

Except for Cole, no one had really poked fun at me since Jamie had died. Everyone around me walked on eggshells. Molly would jest at times, but even then, she was always cautious. So was Finn.

But Cole, he just treated me like me. Not a broken Poppy. Or a sad Poppy. Just me.

And I could tease him right back.

“So, what’s the future look like for you, Detective Goodman? Chief of police? Mayor? The White House?”

Cole chuckled. “No, I’m happy just being a cop. Though my dad has bigger plans.”

“Oh? What does he want?”

“He wants me to follow in his footsteps, to be the next chief when he retires.” He blew out a loud breath. “But I hate politics. I hate committees and all the meetings. I like being in the field and working cases.”

“I can see that. I bet you’d suffocate if you were stuck inside all day, wearing a suit and tie.”

He looked down at me and smiled, his dimples showing again. “Poppy Maysen, I think you’ve figured me out.”

My heart thumped a bit harder. “Not quite.”

“Give it time.”

I’d try. Minute by minute.

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