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“Someone is happy to see you.”

Cole mumbled something under his breath, not even sure himself what he’d replied. Whatever it had been, Andrew laughed.

“Throw her some candy.”

“No.”

Andrew chuckled. “Ah, now, that’s not nice, Santa.”

“I never said I was nice,” Cole reminded, wondering at how his hands had gone clammy inside his gloves despite the chill from the open truck window.

“You’re nicer than you think you are,” Andrew pointed out, his gaze back on the truck in front of them.

“I must be to put up with the likes of you.”

Andrew snorted.

Cole couldn’t resist glancing back toward where Sophie stood. She was still looking his way, still smiling and still waving.

Lord, she must be a saint to stay so positive when dealing with someone as jaded as him.

Unable to stop himself, Cole waved back. He hadn’t consciously decided to, but his hand had lifted and done exactly that. Okay, so it had been a one-time shifting of his wrist that almost mimicked a mid-air salute, rather than a wave.

Certainly nothing like the enthusiastic back and forth moving she’d been doing.

What kind of Santa would he be if he hadn’t waved back?

A bad one. Which was what he was anyway.

Happy surprise lit on Sophie’s face, as if she’d expected him to completely ignore her wave as he’d done with her text. Such a small thing to wave back, yet she truly looked pleased, as if he’d done something wonderful.

Guilt hit him. He hadn’t texted her back because he hadn’t wanted to encourage the light he saw in her eyes. But not encouraging Sophie had only been one part of his reasoning.

He’d convinced himself she would be better off if he kept his distance, that he would be better off if he kept his distance, too, because he didn’t want to be one of her do-gooder projects. He wasn’t someone she could fix.

But common courtesy dictated that he should have acknowledged her text. That he should toss her some candy.

So, he tossed a handful. Next to him, Andrew chuckled, but didn’t say anything further, for which Cole was grateful.

Fortunately, the parade started moving again and Andrew’s attention returned to maintaining a safe distance from the truck in front of them and watching for any wayward pedestrian that stepped off the crowded sidewalk.

Unable to resist, Cole’s gaze met Sophie’s and held until the truck moved beyond where she stood. The whole time, she kept smiling at him as if she was truly glad to see him.

As if she’d missed him that week.

Rather than admit he’d missed seeing her, too, Cole nodded in acknowledgement of whatever it was he was acknowledging and attempted to focus on tossing more candy to parade watchers.

Missing Sophie would mean he cared for her as more than just a casual acquaintance, and he really didn’t need to do that when it would only lead to heartache down the road.

Heartache for Sophie? Or for him?

He’d decided to never have a relationship. There’d been reasons for that. Good reasons. Valid reasons that shouldn’t be ignored.

He never wanted to hurt her.

Only, what if Sophie was the one woman who could read his journal and not view him with pity, fear, or disgust?

What if she’d read his journal and still saw the man he was beneath all the things he’d done and seen? A man who’d made mistakes and lived everyday with that knowledge and the desire to make up for what he could?