Page 91 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
Matt smiled wickedly.
“If the shoe fits,” he said, grinning.
Kate flicked his ear hard.
“Ouch!” said Matt. “I’m trying to drive.”
“Stop being a dick, then,” she said.
They were quiet for a while. The fluorescent clock face on the van’s dashboard read 3:45 a.m. The monotonous music of the tires on the road was strangely soothing.
Kate was warm and tired, and the temptation to rest her head on Matt’s shoulder was almost irresistible. But resist she did. There was a time when she wouldn’t have even thought about it, but here, next to him, in the warm dark, she felt suddenly and inexplicably self-conscious, as if her body language might divulge a secret she’d fought to keep even from herself.
The feeling in her chest was filling the small van; the voice in her head was shouting so loud she worried Matt would hear it. She felt she would burst from the pressure pushing against her ribs, her heart was so full: so full for him.
She looked at his long slender hands on the steering wheel. She glanced up at his profile, lit by the headlamps of cars on the other side of the motorway; he squinted slightly as he concentrated on the road. His hair was a shaggy mess of twists and curls. And Kate could no longer deny that she loved him. As impossible and implausible as that love might be, it was love and there was nothing to be done about it.
Kate stared out the window. It was just starting to snow again; the flakes flurried in the headlights like feathers from a burst pillow.Unrequited love. This was to be her lot. The ache of it burned through her. This pain; this pain was why she’d tried so hard, for so long, to keep her feelings for Matt locked away.
She watched the snowflakes get bigger. They began to settle in fuzzy lines along the dark tarmac. In the dark van, with the smell of pine needles in her nose, she made a vow. She would never tell Matt her true feelings. And she would do everything in her power to make sure Sarah didn’t, however unintentionally, break Matt’s heart, because that’s what people in love do; they protect the hearts of those they love, even if that love will never be returned.
•••••
Patrick’s son Pete was waiting for them out the back of Evelyn’s shop as they pulled onto the drive. It was still dark. Kate gently woke Evelyn, who shivered visibly as Matt opened the van door and helped her out.
“Go on up to bed,” said Matt.
“I’ll be all right in a minute,” said Evelyn. Her teeth chattered together. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Matt put his hands on Evelyn’s shoulders. She looked very small, standing there in the dark shivering, and Kate noticed for the first time that Evelyn was getting old.
“We’ve got this, Evelyn,” said Matt kindly. “Now get yourself off to bed.”
Evelyn didn’t argue. She nodded once and climbed the steps to her front door.
“Tally ho, chaps!” she said, and disappeared into her apartment above the shop.
The remaining three unloaded the Christmas trees and stood them up against the wall in Evelyn’s yard. With the trees safely stowed, Pete waved cheerio and drove back to the farm in his Jeep; his daywould be just beginning and it would be a long one too with Patrick incapacitated.
Five enormous bags stuffed full of Kate’s Christmas fancies sat on the snowy path. They glittered beneath the streetlamp.
“Can I leave them in the van and pick them up later?” Kate yawned.
“I’ll drop you back,” said Matt. “And help you in with them.”
“There’s no need,” said Kate. “I don’t mind walking.”
Matt shook his head.
“Get in the bloody van,” he said. And Kate did as she was told.
•••••
“What’s the next date?” Matt asked, dumping the last bag in Kate’s hallway.
“Escape room,” said Kate. She was so tired now, she could barely focus.
“Crikey!” said Matt. “I hope your date’s a patient man.”
