When Cole came back into the festively decorated firehall, he glanced around at the others who were watching them intently, then frowned. “We can go outside. It’s not private, but it’s better than being the main event in here for these jokers.”

“Yes. Going outside sounds like a great idea.”

Maybe she would be able to breathe better outdoors.

Sophie waved goodbye to Ben and Andrew, then smiled at Cole, grateful that she’d be able to give him the journal privately so he could tuck it away if he didn’t want the others to see.

His coworkers might already know about his time in the military, but if not, he should be the one to decide who knew about the things he’d gone through. No one else.

Which made her feel a smidge guilty at having read his journal in the first place, but there had been no name. She’d only meant to read enough to try to figure out whose diary it was, but once she’d started, the pages had beckoned to her with a call she hadn’t been able to resist.

Even after reading it completely, she’d still not found a name. All she’d known was that the author was a male Marine who’d seen and endured too much, just as her father had. Not having a name or a face to assign to the journal meant that the connection between the two men had blurred.

For a week, the intense journal had haunted her. Nightly, she’d picked it up to reread passages that had left her chilled and aching for the man who’d written the heart-wrenching words. Who was he? Where was he? Had he pieced his life back together or…or had the darkness overtaken him as it had her father?

Only when she’d found the Christmas card tucked into a crossword puzzle book that had also been in the donated box had she realized the writer’s identity. Discovering that the quiet, stoic man she’d briefly met at Ruby Jenkin’s Fourth of July party was the wounded warrior monopolizing her every waking thought had been a surprise.

Apparently, Cole was full of surprises. She certainly wouldn’t have expected to find the man whose journal she’d read wearing a Santa suit and teasing his coworkers.

Maybe she should have insisted that he keep wearing the suit. Talking to Santa Cole had to be easier than talking to Gorgeous Fireman with a Tormented Past Cole.

Her stomach was a fluttery tangle of nerves.

She shouldn’t be nervous at all. Her palms shouldn’t be clammy. Her heart shouldn’t be racing. She snuck a glance toward Cole and gulped.

He made her feel giddy and feminine and a whole lot nervous. He’d had that effect on her even before she’d read his journal, and now that she’d read it, she wanted to help him.