Chapter Thirty-Eight
On the Last Day of Christmas,
My True Love Came to Me
‘Ah… okay.’ A hint of uncertainty crossed Matt’s face as he released Gemma and walked over to fetch his coat, and she sank back on the sofa as he took the chair opposite.
‘It was this.’
After a momentary hesitation, Matt reached into his coat and withdrew something from the inner pocket, placing it on the table and then raising guarded eyes to hers.
Oh no! Gemma’s hand shot to her throat.
‘Peggy said you left it behind in your bedroom.’
‘I asked her to forward it. You haven’t…’ Gemma couldn’t finish.
‘I told her I was coming to see you, that I’d return it.’
Please don’t have looked at any of it!
She leaned forward to snatch it up, but Matt placed his hand on it.
‘There are some brilliant words in here.’
Oh God, he’s been reading it.
Concern wiped the wariness from Matt’s features. ‘Are you okay? You’ve gone awfully pale.’
Really?
‘It’s personal, Matt. You shouldn’t read… things.’
To Gemma’s surprise, warmth filled his hazel eyes, and she swallowed quickly as he opened the book.
‘“First Date”. I love it. The beat’s perfect for the first demo I sent you, don’t you think?’
‘It’s not real,’ Gemma croaked.
‘I know.’ Matt’s voice was assertive. ‘It says so, at the end, doesn’t it? It’s a fake date, someone dreaming of getting ready for something that isn’t happening. But that’s not the reason I’m here.’
‘Oh?’ Gemma licked her lips in hopes it would ease the sudden dryness of her mouth.
‘I saw your notes… for the lyrics of our song. They’re incredible words, Gem. Rich with emotion. Raw.’
Remembering how she’d felt writing it, sadness engulfed Gemma. ‘I – I just – er – fell in love… once.’
Matt didn’t speak, and she slowly raised her eyes to his.
‘It came to nothing.’
‘And you’re still hurting. I didn’t know, Gem.’
She nodded, unable to speak. Hopefully, that was all he’d noticed.
Matt leaned forward, his dark gaze holding hers. ‘I didn’t understand until I saw this.’
He slid the journal across the table, but as Gemma reached for it his hand brushed hers, and heat shot through her body at the expression in his eyes.
Looking down, she drew in a shallow breath, unsurprised to see it open to the last page.
‘I was just channelling my inner teen,’ Gemma whispered, flushed with embarrassment, recalling the broken heart she’d drawn with his name in next to the chorus of ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’, but Matt got to his feet, drawing her up with him, and stepped round the table.
‘If I had known, I would never have let you leave. Saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I thought I was doing right by you. You seemed so keen to get away, to resume those travels. It would have been cruel to try and stop you. Besides, I had no idea how you felt until I read this.’ He patted the journal, then ran a hand through his hair. ‘Hell, you’ve no idea how hard it was not to beg you to stay when I messaged you in the early hours before the wedding.’ Matt’s voice lowered as he drew Gemma towards him. ‘I’m almost scared to ask, but I think these words…’ He swallowed visibly. ‘These words about the inspiration for our song… are they about… us?’
Heat continued to permeate Gemma’s skin, but despite her chagrin she nodded.
‘I meant to forget you,’ Matt continued, a shadow crossing his face. ‘No chance. You were in my head, in my soul and – for evermore, entwined in the song we’d created together. Letting you go… it helped me realise how much I loved you. Only I didn’t think I had a chance until I saw your feelings put into words.’
‘You – you love me?’ Gemma’s heart quivered and she cautioned it silently.
‘Yes. I have fallen in love with you, Gemma I-like-talking-to-inanimate-objects Merriott.’
Gemma’s skin cooled in an instant. Could this be any more mortifying?
‘How do you’ – surely she hadn’t done that in front of him? – ‘know I do that? Talk to… things.’
Matt rolled his eyes. ‘How do you think? The walls told me.’
‘Oh!’ Gemma started to laugh as he continued.
‘Somehow, my impromptu housekeeper-cum-Christmas-elf has helped me find myself. I missed you so much last night, it hurt.’ Matt pressed a hand to his chest, his expression earnest. ‘It’s been a nightmare, trying to get here, but please put me out of my misery, tell me I haven’t misinterpreted things.’
Gemma drew in a shallow breath. ‘You haven’t.’
Emotion flooded Matt’s features, and he wrapped his arms round Gemma.
‘I’ve been in love with you for ages,’ Gemma continued against his shoulder. ‘Despite your best efforts to come across as an arrogant twonk, I saw through you and your disguise.’
Another kiss was the only possible answer to this, one that became rather passionate and was only drawn to a close by Gemma when she thought she heard someone outside the door.
‘What made you realise, Matt? And don’t try fobbing me off with the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. My own failings aside, that’s always smacked of major surgery and questionable results.’
He set Gemma back from him, gently moving a stray curl from her forehead. ‘It wasn’t an overnight sensation, more of a slow burn. I think that spells longevity and I like the sound of it.’
Gemma couldn’t agree more; but then her phone pinged.
‘Mum, wondering where I’ve got to. I only came down for a coffee.’
‘Do you still fly on Saturday?’
‘If they’ve cleared the runways.’
‘Right then.’ Matt reached for her coat and held it out. ‘I’d best come meet the parents, if I’m to be your companion.’
‘You’re coming with me? On my travels?’ Gemma followed him from the room, unsure how she’d gone from despair to happiness in such a short space of time.
‘’Fraid so. Besides,’ he added before they took the stairs, ‘you may want to gather a few things from home.’ The uncertainty returned for a moment, a sheepish look on his face. ‘Sorry, I mean, that’s if you want to. Stay here at the hotel. With me. Until we fly.’
Gemma said nothing, merely throwing her arms round him, and he held her close for a moment.
‘Is that a yes?’
She nodded fervently against his coat. ‘Assuming there’s a huge bed in that other room, and not a set of bunks.’
Matt was still chuckling when they emerged from the hotel to find thick clouds had gathered over the village, the sky so dark, dusk was falling early. He tucked Gemma’s hand in his arm as they walked back down towards the green.
‘Ryther suggested I go away for a couple of months and find some more inspiration. I said I would, but not until I’d collected my muse.’
Touched, Gemma squeezed his arm. ‘I like being your muse.’
‘Perhaps we can do some cookery courses together. I’ve heard they’re very popular abroad.’
Gemma’s green eyes scanned his face for mockery, but there was none of the old Matt, simply this gorgeous, thoughtful man.
‘I never thought I’d say this, but it sounds divine, even with the cooking. Oh, look.’ She pointed further down the green.
The lights on the tree had come on early, the branches holding out their snowy mittens, and they turned their steps towards it, footsteps crunching in the snow.
‘Wait, Matt. Who’s this artist?’
He turned her to face him as they drew to a halt beside the tree. A warm glimmer emanated from the nearby pub’s windows, casting a glow over the surroundings, the light catching the depths of his eyes as they scanned her face.
‘I’ll tell you over dinner.’
Delight infused Gemma’s features. ‘Is that a proper date?’
Matt laughed, taking her hands in his. ‘Our first one – and nothing fake about it.’ He dropped a kiss on her cold nose, and she wrinkled it, smiling up at him.
‘Can I ask one more question, Matt?’
‘If you must.’
‘If your house is sold while you’re away, where do you—’
‘We,’ Matt interjected.
‘Plan to live once back in the UK?’
He raised a brow. ‘Where would you like to live?’
‘Cornwall,’ she replied, smiling mistily. ‘I miss it so much it hurts.’
Matt heaved an overly dramatic sigh. ‘And I thought those pangs were for me.’
‘Oh, they were! But they’ve gone.’ Gemma pressed a kiss on him, and she could feel his mouth curving into a smile before she pulled away.
‘Well then.’ Matt drew her close. ‘According to Peggy, the owner of Rivermills has decided to sell up. Shall I put in an offer?’
Gemma stared at Matt, her gaze moving from the firm mouth, the corners beginning to form a smile, to those deep, hazel eyes.
‘Live there? Be only a boat ride or a muddy walk from all the cove’s madness? Are you sure?’
The smile had reached Matt’s eyes as his head lowered, his intent obvious. ‘Oh yes. After all, we can always ask Douggie to drop a random root ball in the gap from the river and barricade the gate from the woods when we want to be alone.’
Gemma leaned back in his arms. ‘And can we get a dog? And a cat? I’d love to have a pet.’
‘You can have them all, provided you stop asking bloody questions.’
Gemma’s laugh was silenced as Matt’s lips claimed hers, both of them oblivious to the flakes of snow beginning to drift down from the laden skies.
She did, however, reflect briefly on how life had a strange way of throwing you curveballs, and that some of them were the best sort, before losing herself in the joy of being in the embrace of the man she loved with all her heart.