32. Matteo
32
MATTEO
I stood on the edge of the tarmac. The bright paint of the helipad made my head ache. I didn’t have a hangover—I had a heart-over. I pulled my waterproof case out of my jacket and checked my phone.
My gut twisted. Nothing. No word from Esmé. Not that I’d checked my phone constantly for the last twelve hours, but Antonio had asked if I’d developed OCD overnight.
I closed my eyes tight, resting my hands on my hips. Where was she, and what was she thinking? Was she curled up in bed with Claudette or sitting at her kitchen bench regretting ever getting involved with me?
Though last night didn’t feel like a final goodbye, I’d fought a battle with my fingers all night. A skirmish of self-preservation. When I left the gallery, I’d left the ball in her court, but I didn’t like my odds.
Antonio clapped me on the back, shouting in my ear to be heard over the engines of the helicopters. “You go up with the first group. I’ll take the second. Everything is ready at the lodge.” A grin cracked his face. “We made it, man. ”
I nodded back, forcing a smile. But I couldn’t focus.
The memory of Esmé standing in her gallery, her whole exhibition crumbling around her, was forever branded into my brain. Her wide eyes and frown were entirely my doing. If I’d never agreed to work at Galerie du Reve, I’d never have fallen for her, and I’d never have taken her zip lining, putting everything she’d worked for in jeopardy.
I sucked in a breath. There, I’d said what I’d known for days. I’d fallen for Esmé—hard and fast—but the suspicion she didn’t feel the same burned deep in my chest.
“Hello? Matteo?” Antonio shouted, waving a gloved hand in front of my face. “Wake up.”
I shook my head to dislodge the picture of Esmé. “Sorry,” I shouted back, giving him a thumbs up.
“It’s a big group,” he said. “You take the crazier customers; I’ll take the rest.” I looked at the group of skiers standing by the nearest helicopter. They buzzed with excitement I didn't feel. I had no option but to put on an act. It was time to bring “MattitudeX” to the party.
Today was our first intake of guests. They’d paid a lot of money to have a good time. To chase powder snow and catch a thrill. And my name and reputation had brought a lot of them.
I held out my gloved hand. Antonio met my gesture with a solid high-five. “Okay man, let’s do this.”
Antonio headed to the second chopper. They’d leave to go up the mountain a few minutes behind us; give us a chance to get onto the run and get ready before whipping up any powder. I bent down to give my gear a last check.
We had a small team in charge of those details, but I always used my lucky helmet. My lips bowed. I may have added a Pikachu sticker to the inside, just above the chin strap. I’d found it in a shop the day I bought Claudette’s bed.
The noise of the engine picked up in volume. The pilot must be making his final checks. I closed my eyes one final time, banishing the image of Esmé that’d checked permanently into my brain. I had to get eight people down a mountain safely. I couldn’t get distracted.
A hand clapped my back, and I turned to see one of our guides. She shouted something, waving her arms, but I couldn’t make out her words—the balaclava she wore under her ski helmet muffled her voice. I shook my head and shrugged. Her eyes crinkled in amusement before she pointed over her shoulder toward the airport building.
I turned back to see a single figure standing absolutely still amongst the activity. She turned, her thick braids swinging around her shoulders. My breath skittered. Esmé?
She wore a puffy white jacket, jeans and boots, and had a pink woolly hat pulled down over her ears. Her cheeks were flushed, and she clapped her gloveless hands as she moved from foot to foot.
The second my brain caught up with my eyes, I moved. “I’ll be right back,” I shouted to one of the guides before racing to Esmé.
When she saw me, her eyes filled with the glow I’d craved all night.
“What are you doing here?” I looked at my watch. “You should be at the gallery.”
I ran my hands over her arms, checking to make sure she was real.
“I had to come and tell you. Your grandfather visited me. He’s still going to invest. And … he knows about us. But he didn’t disown you, or threaten to run me out of town, so I’m calling it a win.”
I shook my head, then smirked … smiled … and finally grinned. My heart brimmed with an indescribable energy. A strand of hair whipped around Esmé’s face from the rotor wind, and I pushed it away with my thumb. “I’d say the whole of the Pari s art world knows about us after last night. But I assume the fact that you’re here in one piece means he’s okay with the situation?”
She nodded, and a wave of relief loosened the tightness in my chest.
I slid a hand up her back and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Does that mean you’re okay with the situation? I’ve never had doubts, but I think you needed time to catch up.”
“I’ve well and truly caught up,” she said, nodding her head. The little freckles on her nose danced in front of my eyes.
I let out a long breath before cupping her face and capturing her lips with mine. Her fresh scent wrapped around me as I teased her lips with my tongue. When she opened her mouth, I pulled her flush against me, arms tightening.
Her tongue curled with mine, and the world faded, leaving only one certainty—I never wanted to be anywhere but locked together with her for the rest of my days.
The helicopter engine growled and Esmé pulled away, her eyes darting from side to side.
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “If it didn’t make that noise, it wouldn’t be able to fly.”
She grinned, and I kissed the end of her gorgeous nose. “What did Gio say, exactly?”
“He was as classy as I’d expect. Spared my blushes about our video and told me not to let you jump off cliffs unchaperoned.”
I lifted the corners of my mouth. “By you?”
Esmé shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”
“Then how about it? Right now.”
Esmé opened her mouth. “But you’re not jumping off a cliff today … are you?”
I chuckled. “No. That would just be silly. I haven’t packed a parachute. ”
She relaxed her shoulders—slightly.
“But I am going up in one of those.” I pointed to the two helicopters warming up on the tarmac. “Come with me?”
She blinked. “Sorry?”
“Come with me. You can ski. Join me for an adventure.” I ran my eyes over her clothes. “There’s gear you can borrow. I’ll look after you. I promise.”
Esmé shook her head. “No. I’m an average skier at best. Besides, you're on a trip. You don’t need me weighing you down. And I haven't paid. They won’t be able to fit me in.”
“I just asked the boss, and he said it was fine.”
Esmé glanced around the tarmac. “Who’s the boss? I only saw the lovely girl at the desk.”
“I’m the boss. This,” I spread my arms wide. “This is what I was talking about when I said I had plans.”
She looked around at the skiers, the helicopters, and the piles of equipment. “This is your business? I thought you were just taking a weekend off.”
I grinned. “Yes, this is my new project. We’re taking people up on to the glaciers to ski, then to stay at our lodge.” I pointed to the logo stitched on my jacket. It had a picture of the lodge and ski tracks heading down a mountain.
She glanced around at the bustle. “And all these people are staying with you?”
I nodded. “And I’d love you to come, too.”
“But what about your guests? Don’t you need to concentrate on them?”
I stroked her back. “It’s not a one man show, remember? I’ve built this with my friend, Antonio. He and the other guides can cover in my absence.”
“You have other guides? This is a proper set up?”
I chuckled. “Yes. This is where I’ve been on weekends. This is the thing that I’ve been working on for months—years. Only you came along, and I took a slight detour.” I brought her hand to my chest, above my heart. “A big detour. The best kind.”
Two of the crew shifted past us carrying skis and equipment. Esmé’s gaze faltered as they went. “But I can’t ski well enough.”
“Nonsense. Besides, I’d give you a private lesson.” I threaded my other arm around her. “A very personal, one-on-one experience.”
Her eyes bounced between mine. “Matteo, are you crazy?”
“Yes. But for all the right things … for you … for how you make me feel.”
Emotions played over her face. “But I already flew once today to find you.” She looked back at the copter. “I … I can’t”
My chest ached at her reluctance. “You can’t or you won’t?”
She drew her brows. “Matteo, I’m scared. And not just because of the flight.”
“What are you scared of?”
She pressed herself against my body. “Us. Me. What we have. How messy everything’s been so far.How messy it could be in the future.”
I shook my head, running my fingers over her cheeks. “Es, love is messy. And that’s what this is. For me. I love you. And I want nothing more than to get even messier.”
She widened her eyes to the size of snowballs.
“It’s true. I want to be a complete mess—totally tangled, wrecked, and buried. Please come with me.”
I brought my lips to hers, but someone raced past me, shouting for me to hurry. I looked at my helicopter. It was full of guests and ready to leave.
I turned back to Esmé. Her eyes darted behind me, her chest heaving. She was terrified.
I took her head in my hands again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I understand. I’ll be back in a couple of days. We’ll talk then.” With another kiss, this time to her forehead, I pulled her close before turning and walking to the helicopter.
Every step felt like walking through thick mud—every movement, an effort against the pull of her presence. And as I looked back over my shoulder, before I stepped onboard, the sight of her standing alone on the tarmac almost ripped my heart out.