Page 26 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
He couldn’t help thinking of Kira and her friend who was also getting married – her friend-with-former-benefits. It was a strange boundary to have drawn – physical intimacy but no emotional intimacy. Usually, a friend was the other way around.
His gaze was drawn continually to the other table, to her quiet, stoic presence. He wondered whether the drive had tired her out, even though she’d seemed incapable of growing tired. Her expression was pinched.
But she refused to meet his gaze. She’d tied another complex knot at her throat. She was probably just uncomfortable in the blouse – and the company.
It was just like Alessandra to insist that the two planners join them for dinner, rather than leaving them to eat in the staff quarters, but Kira looked as though she would have preferred cooking her own beans over a gas stove in the harsh cold outdoors to sitting at this elegant table, repeatedly picking up the fork, fiddling with it and then putting it down again. Her body moved slightly, suggesting her knee was bouncing under the table.
Alessandra had fussed over him for twenty minutes when he’d arrived, seeing him settled into his room herself as though the chalet belonged to her and exclaiming in horror at his wet socks. But now she had her head bent towards the other wedding planner – an energetic woman with dark-red hair in a stylish cut and a piercing just below her lip – undoubtedly sorting last-minute details.
Joe had a glass of local beer in front of him and was conversing loudly with his identical friends, less interested in the practical arrangements.
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Carla asked, giving him a nudge with the back of her hand that dragged his attention back to his own dinner.
His stomach growled as if on cue, the strange day of extremes catching up with him: the warm van and the freezing snow; sitting still for hours and then careening up the hill on the snowmobile; a drooping service station sandwich for lunch followed by a three-course meal at a luxury cabin for dinner. Taking up his spoon, he took a sip of warm broth, savoury and tangy with fresh chives – and thought of Kira and her enthusiasm for her sausage the night before.
‘Good?’ Carla prompted him.
He glanced up to find her watching him intently and the goosebumps came up again. When she was certain she had his attention, she dipped her spoon into her broth, moving it carefully towards the far edge of the bowl and then to her lips, into her mouth and back out again.
Soundlessly.
Mattia stilled as the difference became apparent. Cutting off a small piece of the bready dumpling floating in the soup, she placed that in her mouth as well, chewing slowly with her lips closed. She accidentally tapped the metal on the ceramic bowl, wincing as she took her next spoonful, but the implement never touched her teeth.
Mattia stared at his own dumpling, his stomach churning. Did this mean he truly was a horrible person telling how much the sounds had stressed him out?
Then a more worrying thought: did Carla want something from him? He flattered himself they’d been tolerably good in bed. Could that be it? He’d heard weddings made people think about jumping into bed together – a thought that only made his gaze swerve to Kira again. He probably wasn’t supposed to be contemplating the wedding planner like that, but he could still remember the skin of her chest, just below her collarbone, brushing the backs of his fingers as he tied her scarf.
He enjoyed physical intimacy – a lot – but he doubted he would be able to switch off everything else that had happened in their relationship for it. Kira might manage that somehow, but he couldn’t.
‘I hope you’ll be done with all this stuff about the flowers and the personalised gold cards to come skiing on Tuesday,’ Joe spoke up, a little too loudly. Mattia suspected his glass had been filled several times already.
Alessandra was still and collected. ‘I’m not coming skiing, amore. We only have two more days before the wedding and there’s still the chapel to decorate. I told you, I had a dream of how it would all look when we got married.’
She was full of dreams of the very best of everything – and she had the unique backbone to make her dreams a reality.
‘But this is what the wedding planner is for,’ Joe insisted. ‘I thought we were combining this wedding craziness with a skiing holiday.’
Mattia’s hackles went up on Alessandra’s behalf.
‘Joe,’ Alessandra purred, ‘we’ll have time afterwards, when we head to Switzerland for our honeymoon. You have fun with your lads on the slopes and I’ll work with Ginny to make everything perfect for the day. We’ll both be happy, hmm?’
One of the groomsmen slapped Joe on the back. ‘You’re only a bachelor for two more days, man. You don’t need to spend them with your ball and chain.’
The red-headed wedding planner – Ginny? – spoke up. ‘Plus, we’ve got a qualified guide and ski instructor, now that our agency has merged with an adventure travel company. I’m sure you’ve got an amazing day ahead of you with Kira.’
‘Kira?’ one of the groomsmen repeated, as though Kira had been invisible up until that moment.
She looked as though she wished she were invisible, her posture stiff and her expression blank. It gave Mattia a shiver of misgiving.
‘Oh, did I forget to introduce you all?’ Ginny said brightly. ‘Anton and Rav are the groomsmen – and Joe is the groom, of course. Guys, this is Kira Watling from Great Heart Adventures. She’s a climbing instructor and guide in real life, but we nab her for help with weddings occasionally.’
Ginny seemed genuinely warm, but her introduction had done nothing to ease the tension that was pouring off Kira like melting snow.
The groomsman – Rav, apparently – was staring at her as she staunchly avoided his gaze, her cheeks turning pink. If Mattia had understood what was going on, he might have interfered, she looked so brittle.
‘My God, Kira,’ Rav said, his voice high. ‘I didn’t recognise you. How long has it been?’
Mattia was desperate for context, his mind ringing with the stand-offish opinions she’d expressed that morning. Choose your friends carefully; don’t make promises. The flash of conviction in him was strong. Someone had hurt her. This groomsman? Surely even she couldn’t be so collected if he was an ex. It was someone else.
