Page 57 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
Kira couldn’t stop her gaze sliding to where Mattia was gazing up at the mountain, which was partially obscured by the thick fog of snow. She hadn’t kissed anyone in longer than a year – until yesterday. And this morning. But then he’d kissed Carla under the mistletoe and reminded her of how stupid she’d been.
With tingles up to her hairline, she wrenched her eyes off him and focused on her conversation with Ginny.
‘But you’ll be back in the morning to help me get them to the church, because right now, I can’t guarantee that this wedding will go ahead. They need therapy, the lot of them.’
‘All normal. Love is for the brave. If they start yelling at each other, distraction works well – on wedding parties as well as toddlers. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Kira ended the call with a grimace. Love is for the brave. That would have looked better on the banner over the church door.
‘Everything okay?’ Mattia asked. The wind picked up his curls and his intent look made her feel as though all of her worries were shared, which was strange, because he was one of them.
Nothing is okay. I don’t know how you feel – I don’t know how I feel and I’m thinking about my fucking feelings instead of fretting about Alessandra’s reindeer!
‘Everything’s fine,’ she said with a sigh and dropped her gaze – which fell on his feet. ‘You bought shoes?’
‘I heard there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad shoes.’ His expression was so inviting – inviting her to come far too close and do too many things she really shouldn’t.
‘Is that true?’ she asked drily.
‘Unfortunately not,’ he said with mock earnestness. ‘I bought these shoes and the weather is still atrocious! Plus they don’t match my outfit.’
‘Maybe you need a new outfit.’
‘I will if you will.’
Were they still talking about clothes?
He leaned closer. ‘I kissed her on the cheek,’ he said in a low voice. ‘And even that… I didn’t want her to be the one there under the mistletoe with me.’
Kira’s breath was suddenly too tight. ‘It doesn’t matter. We agreed it shouldn’t be us under the mistletoe anyway.’
‘I know, but…’ His sigh held a thousand unspoken words.
‘Uh, guys?’ Tonya’s voice was a bucket of freezing water over the silly flirtation that Kira shouldn’t have indulged in anyway.
Kira forced her eyes from Mattia’s face only to meet Carla’s wary gaze, and heat flushed up her neck. At least her cheeks were already red from the cold.
The wedding was a mess. Kira suspected even she needed therapy – or she would when this was all over. On top of everything, she had to put on her dress tomorrow, an outfit that made her feel ten kinds of exposed. And she had to wear it in front of Christian.
Sharing her worries was a complete illusion. She was all alone and she always would be, because although it was sad sometimes, it was safe.
‘We’d better head up,’ she said flatly, stomping over to where Norbert was waiting with the snowmobile and the passenger trailer.
‘Is everything okay? Are we going to get snowed in up there?’ Tonya asked.
Carla cut straight to the point. ‘Is the wedding going to happen?’
Kira was already the worst wedding planner in the history of the profession, so she rubbed the deep groove between her brows and muttered, ‘Who the hell knows?’
23
Mattia awoke sometime in the middle of the night with a sense of something gone very wrong. It could have been any number of things, since Alessandra’s course of true love was not running smoothly. The sense was confirmed as soon as he came fully awake, by the fact that his feet were ice. When he rolled over on the bed, the sheet beside him felt like a slice of provolone straight from the fridge.
He lay frozen in the bed – in both senses of the word – paralysed in fear of what awaited him when he threw off the covers. Perhaps if he went back to sleep, he’d be warm in the morning. They were in the Alps, for the love of God. He shouldn’t be surprised to be a bit cold. Maybe he was even dreaming.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he only succeeded in curling his muscles in tighter knots until he was scared he’d strain something.
He heard only thick silence, as though he were insulated with cotton wool. There was no creak of wooden floorboards, no whistle of wind through the pines and most importantly, no gurgle from the radiator. The silence might have scared him if he hadn’t been so panicked about the cold.
