Page 12 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
‘No, it wasn’t,’ he agreed. ‘How could you tell?’ He had enough experience of people assuming he was just being difficult.
She shrugged. ‘I’m an outdoor guide, remember? I have some experience with anxiety and panic attacks. Does it happen often?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve had a few flashpoints over the years, but that’s what therapy and medication are for.’ His smile was a little forced, but he’d learned to trust that something would always make it better.
Even thinking about telling her exactly what had been behind his episode made the noise around him sharpen and close in on him. The brass band on the other square suddenly sounded as though they were playing a metre away. A woman in high heels made a rhythmic ‘clack clack’ that pounded in his skull. But the individual sounds faded back into an indistinct mass as he met her wary gaze and took a deep breath. ‘It’s a sound sensitivity disorder. I have exceptional hearing and that has consequences in my brain, especially if I’m already under pressure – like the audition and the wedding and all this.’
Alessandra’s wedding… He wasn’t in the mood to explain why the prospect of the wedding brought mixed feelings.
‘I had temporary tinnitus once and since then, humming noises can be triggering, so… thank you for turning off the fridge.’
She gave a dismissive shrug and finished her sausage – wolfed it down would be a more accurate expression. She was already halfway through the little package of chips. Whether it was the sheer speed at which she ate or the cosy ambience of the surroundings, the rustle of the packet and crunch of the chips between her teeth were just sounds tonight, with no extra stress or emotional side effects.
‘It might have been helpful to know in advance,’ she said after she’d swallowed.
He liked the way her voice went gravelly when she was grumpy. ‘You should add that question to your insurance form for our outdoor adventure, coach.’
‘You could have mentioned something. I thought you were just being difficult about the double glazing.’
‘With the man thinking we were a couple, I’m not sure you would have listened to me.’
She eyed him. ‘Who says “lovers” anyway?’ She shuddered as though the word set off some allergies.
‘You’re the wedding planner.’
‘I told you, this isn’t my usual gig. I got roped into this. I don’t know anything about this stuff.’
It was the first time he’d seen her look uncertain of herself. ‘No big wedding in your future, then?’ he asked lightly, hoping she couldn’t tell how genuinely curious he was.
She blanched, her reaction strong enough to make him regret his prying. ‘No,’ she answered emphatically. ‘Is there anything else I should know? About you?’
What did she want to know? He kind of wanted to tell her all of his secrets, but she wouldn’t be interested. ‘I’m twenty-seven years old, lived my entire life in Napoli, I am an only child?—’
‘That’s not really what I was asking.’
He couldn’t keep his curious question in. ‘How old are you?’
‘Thirty-one – in the next decade from you.’
‘Oh, but you meant was there anything you need to know for my safety on this dangerous expedition to Alessandra’s wedding?’
Another scowl. ‘Our drive tomorrow will be entirely uneventful and I’ll deliver you safely in plenty of time for your musical interludes during the ceremony. Don’t even suggest anything else.’
‘I didn’t know outdoor adventurers were just as superstitious as opera singers.’
‘I don’t have a lucky charm on a necklace like you,’ she quipped. ‘I’m assuming that’s what’s on your chain.’
She didn’t mean anything by it, but her question brought heat up his chest and he remembered her gaze on his skin earlier.
He leaned on the barrel table, propping himself up as he brought his face close to hers. It was easy to imagine tipping her chin up and kissing her – and he had a vivid imagination. But her gaze grew sharp and he sensed a thousand little triggers. He was familiar with triggers.
‘Haven’t you learned anything about me yet?’ he asked mildly.
‘I’ve learned a few things.’ He enjoyed it when she lifted her chin just like that. ‘But not what’s hanging from your necklace.’
He tugged out the gold charm on its chain, letting the soft lights reflect off the twisted horn shape. ‘A curniciello, of course. To scare off the evil eye. A gift from my mother.’
‘Why of course?’
