Page 94 of Good as Gold
“I wish a lot of things,” he says. Then he inhales and steps back. “Leila, I need to say goodbye.”
“Right now?”
He nods solemnly. “I need to swing by my mom’s and hang up some blinds she ordered. And I need to pack my stuff and get my head in the game.”
“Okay.” I gulp. It’s another blow. I thought we’d at least have tonight. I’m wearing red satin underwear, damn it.
Matteo is looking at me with kind brown eyes that see right through me. “I’m going to miss you. So much. This summer has beeneverythingto me. But I don’t think I expected it to end so soon.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice a sad scrape. This feels like a rejection. “I’ll see you again, though, right?”
“You can count on it.”
Can I, though? Look how that turned out last time.
He takes a step backward. I’m already losing him. “Be well, Leila. Hang in there. I’m pulling for you.”
“Thank you,” I say uselessly. And I do not have the willpower to stay where I am. I follow him to the door, like a lost dog.
He pauses with a hand on the doorknob. “You’ll, uh, let me know if you get any good news?”
“Of course,” I say quickly.
He pulls me in for a hug and looks down at me, his expression resigned. I brace myself to heargoodbye.
Instead, he dips his face toward mine, and I stop breathing as he kisses me gently—that silky beard tickling my chin. “Queen,” is all he whispers afterward.
My throat closes up. I can’t make myself say goodbye.
Neither can he, I guess. With one more long look at me, he opens the door and takes his leave. It closes behind him with a determined click.
I have the worst urge to yank it open again and chase him down the stairs.
Instead, I rest my forehead against the wood. What just happened? He asked me if a baby was still the thing I wanted most. And I’d said yes. Because that was the plan.
Except the plan got complicated. I want Matteo, too. I’mfallingfor him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
And now he’s leaving, whether I want him to or not.
CHAPTER34
MATTEO
OCTOBER
“Here you go,” I say, passing the contract across the picnic table. “Oh, let me grab a pen from inside the office.”
“Hey, no need.” The guy I’m hiring to be our newest guide—Jeffrey—pulls a pen out of the pocket of his flannel shirt. “I’m so stoked for this. I brought my lucky pen.”
He’s actually grinning as he initials the bottom of the first page and then flips to the second.
I should be grinning, too. Jeffrey is a good hire. He’s twenty-seven, which is the perfect age. He’s old enough to have a decade’s worth of big mountain experience. He’s passed all the safety courses. He’s proficient with avalanche risk assessment and CPR. And he just got married, so he’s eager for a steady paycheck.
But he’s still young enough to be “stoked” about things. Honestly, he reminds me a little of myself ten years ago. Every day a new adventure.
He signs his name with a flourish on the last page. “This is awesome. Can’t wait till we get some pow pow.” He actually tilts his chin skyward, as if checking for snowflakes on a sunny, fifty-degree day.
Spoiler: there aren’t any.
