Chapter Two
It had been a long week of skirting around each other, with hardly a customer to distract them from the constant awareness of the other. Meg had come to do her usual still life art class in the back room, the high winds and cold frosts of early winter putting off a third of her usual students. Nevertheless, she was in her usual good mood, which seemed to only highlight Robyn’s own miserable demeanour further.
“You okay?” Meg asked cautiously as she came to the bar to arrange December’s classes with Matt.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get him for you, he’s poring over the accounts again,” Robyn forced a smile.
“It’s a tricky time of year, I’m feeling it at the art shop too. Hoping to put on some Christmas gift-type bundles to attract the festive shoppers,” Meg said.
“Unfortunately, most of the year has been tricky in the pub trade,” Robyn shrugged her shoulders as if the topic of the old place’s finances hadn’t been weighing her and Matt down for months.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Could you organise a Christmas event? A clothes and book swap? Or even another live music evening or open mic night? Anything to bring the customers in.”
“That’s a good idea, I’ll…”
“What’s a good idea?” Matt asked, the air behind the bar becoming suddenly more electric.
“Meg was just making some suggestions to help with the, ah, to add to our list of festive events,” Robyn edged around the subject.
“Oh, well, those I would be eager to hear.”
Matt began discussing it with Meg as Robyn nodded her goodbye and slipped away. It would have to be a pretty big event to draw enough of the residents from both villages to make a dent in the inn’s income deficit, and with no spare cash to put up front towards costs…
“Ruby, do you have a moment?” It was Matt’s nickname for her, had been as long as she could remember, and it cut through Robyn’s financial musings.
“I, ah, yes, was it something in particular?” Robyn asked, a sudden zing of awareness coursing through her as Matt came to stand beside her in the pub kitchen, at the back of the building.
“Yeah, I thought we could pick up where Meg left off and jot down some ideas. I know we’re limited, but I feel we have to try something, one last stand…”
Meg heard the words but couldn’t focus on them as he reached behind her to get two coffee cups out of the top cabinet. The feel of his hand as it brushed past her cheek, not touching, but oh so close. The familiar smell of him… Robyn felt suddenly lightheaded and had to clutch the countertop for support.
“Tea or coffee? Are you still on the matcha kick?”
“Huh?”
“What would you like?”
“Like?” Robyn found herself so distracted by her body’s reaction that she really wasn’t following the conversation at all, “From you?”
Matt heard himself swallow loudly in the charged silence that followed, the cups clattering onto the bench as if forgotten, as he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. With her head tipped to the side like that, her hair all falling over her cheek and her huge brown eyes fixed on his, it was all he could do not to lean in and touch her mouth with his. He wasn’t sure what question Robyn thought he had asked, but he could bet it didn’t have to do with hot drinks.
“From you?” She repeated, licking her lips. It was an innocent movement, but the corresponding reaction he felt in his body was anything but and Matt shuffled from side to side uncomfortably.
“A drink,” he croaked, his voice that of a parched man. Which he was, but not in the way that a coffee was going to relieve. “A hot drink, I saw you put the kettle on.”
“Oh! Yes, I’ll get one of my herbal tea bags, thanks.”
And so the moment was broken and Matt focused his hands on pouring the boiling water – a task which required a lot more concentration than usual, broken only by the soft feel of her hand touching his as she dropped the teabag into her cup. He hurried to put the kettle back down, in case his own shaking hands caused either of them an injury, and focused on adding the coffee granules to his own cup. A double heap was what was required in this moment, he decided, because of course a hit of caffeine would calm his body back down… Matt let out a shuddering breath, forgetting for a split second that she was still in the room, carrying her cup to the battered, farmhouse kitchen table.
“Is it that bad?” Robyn asked, leaving her cup and coming back up behind him. He could feel her heat as she stood close to his back, feel her indecision as she hovered for a moment, rocking from one foot to the other. In the end, no contact came and once more he felt the loss of their previous, easy-going relationship.
“Is what that bad?” Matt asked, deliberately opening the discussion up as he turned slowly.
“Whatever is making you sigh so deeply,” Robyn looked up at him with earnest eyes and he knew it was time for the truth.
But which truth?
Matt had never noticed how loud the ticking of the kitchen clock was until now. Until he’d rather fixate on that than the loud beating of his own heart in his chest.
“It’s crunch time Ruby.”
“Crunch time?” Her lower lip quivered and he really wished he was a better man. A bigger man who had the courage to admit his true feelings. As it was, he knew he was still about to lose her, that was surely the outcome of either course, but this way he would at least protect what little was left of his pride and their friendship. It was bad enough the business had failed, he couldn’t take her rejecting his love too.
Yes, this was the way it had to be.
“Sit down, lov… ah, Robyn, and let’s talk,” he tried to ignore the way her face fell at his serious tone, the sudden hunch to her shoulders.
Matt felt sick to his stomach.