by Jo McNally
“Until you saw him in Philly that night.”
She went still. “Yes.”
“Then you became a recluse. Instead of burying your past with noise, you buried it with silence.”
She gave him a half smile. “That’s a good way to put it. They say every coping mechanism is valid in its own way. Our minds create ways to avoid pain.” She straightened, then reached for his empty plate. “And why are we talking about this now? Surely, there are happier things on our minds after the night we had.”
Matt joined her at the sink. “Okay. Let’s talk about last night. I don’t know about you, but I’d really like last night to happen again.” She paused. He noticed her gripping the sponge tightly. Was she going to say one night was all she could handle? Would more be too much for her? She reached for his hand.
“I’d like that, too. I...I don’t want to examine this too hard, though. Not yet. Can we keep this just...?”
“Random sex?” He knew the words, meant as a joke, were a mistake as soon as they left his lips. She physically recoiled, pressing her lips together in a thin line.
“God, Matt, is that what you think? That I do this sort of thing...”
He took the breakfast plate from her hand and set it in the strainer, then pulled her into an embrace. “Of course not. Sorry. That was a bonehead thing to say. I keep putting my foot in my mouth when I talk about your...”
“My affliction?” She smiled up at him, and it softened the sting a bit. “Like I told you last night, I get it. I’m used to living with my coping methods. You’re not.”
“Yeah, but I usually have a little more class than that. I’m so afraid of making it worse, but I’m blundering all over the place doing exactly what I’m trying to avoid.” He hesitated. “It’s hard to understand. I don’t know what to expect, or when, or what might trigger it. We went wild last night and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But if I invited you to my place...hell, I can’t even get you to walk into the lodge.”
Bright spots of pink rose on her cheeks. She didn’t meet his gaze, and instead, stared over his shoulder at some imaginary target.
“I never said it would be easy being my friend. Or my lover.” Now her eyes slammed into his. “This is me, Matt. You should do an internet search on agoraphobia before we go any further with...this. With us. Every case is different, of course, but you’ll get a feel for the reality of it.” Her lips pinched together for a moment. “As far as your house or the lodge goes, there are some agoraphobes who literally can’t step out their own doors. You already know I’m able to go to some places, with certain people, under certain circumstances. I’m sure we can figure something out, with minimal people around, but I’m always going to need an escape route.”
“But it’s not like you’re going to run into...him...at the ski lodge.”
“You can’t really promise that, can you?”
“Come on, what are the odds...?” He was arguing logic against a psychological condition that didn’t operate on logic at all. “Okay. You’re right. But can’t doctors help you somehow? You said there were ways...”
“I’ve accepted this as part of who I am. It’s what I do to keep myself feeling safe.”
“But...I want to keep this going, Jillie. I want us to be a couple. A relationship. That means going out to dinner and traveling and...”
“Does it?” Her smile faltered. “If that’s a requirement, then I’m afraid we’re not going very far.”
His mouth opened a few times, then snapped shut. He tried to be an open-minded guy but dating someone who never left home was going to be tough. Jillie’s face fell, interpreting his silence as agreement. Being with this woman was worth him making adjustments to his thinking and behavior. After all, what was the big deal if she didn’t come to his place? It was just a rental, and Bryce was there, so her house made more sense, anyway.
“Babe, I’d move into a bear’s den up on Watcher Mountain if that’s what it took to be with you. I’m going to be clumsy with my words once in a while, or anxious about doing the wrong thing, but I promise...” He kissed her lips gently, tracing more kisses down her neck to the soft skin by her shoulder. “I promise I’ll never intentionally hurt you. I want us to move forward...together. I’m falling for you, Jillie. And it started long before last night.”
Tension left her shoulders and she pressed close against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m falling, too, Matt. I promise to cut you some slack if you stumble. And I’ll stumble, too, you know. I have no real experience with this relationship stuff.” They stood there for a moment, quiet and at peace in each other’s arms. He wanted this to last forever. If only...
He grimaced. “I’ve got to go, babe. All the new glassware is supposed to be delivered today, and Bryce and I need to set up the bar. With any luck, and some cool weather, we might be able to have a soft opening between Christmas and New Year’s. That and the winter break in February are the big money-making weeks for ski slopes in the northeast, where the seasons can be short.” Matt chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to go into work mode on you in the middle of a conversation about us.”
She stepped back with a smile. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with a job to worry about. I have a deadline coming up, and my characters are misbehaving very badly right now. So let’s both get to work.” She raised a brow in question. “Will I see you tonight?”
“You know you will. I’ll bring dinner. And a toothbrush.”
They both laughed at that, making something go warm and soft in the vicinity of his heart. She patted his chest. Yup. Right there.
“And a toothbrush,” she agreed.
Chapter Eleven
Her friends said she could trust the shadowy hulk waiting at the edge of the trees. Even Robbie insisted that this monster was different. That this one might be able to bring peace to their land once again. She rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. She could barely remember what peace felt like.
“He wants to go out on a date.”
Mel chuckled. “Well, that is the natural progression of things...oh...I didn’t think...it’s the going out that’s a problem.” Her nose wrinkled. “Sorry. Is there a place that you could manage?”
“You could come here,” Nora said, gesturing around the Gallant Brew.
Jillie stared into her coffee mug. “I think he has something a little more formal than a coffee shop in mind.” She looked up. “No offense.”
Nora laughed. “I was kidding.” She sobered. “But what are you going to do?”
That was a really good question. Matt’s request that morning had caught her off guard. She could have said no and let that be that. After all, he knew it was a big ask of her. Going out, into a public place, on a date. But there was something in his eyes—caution mixed with hope—that had made her nod mutely in reply. And he’d run with that agreement, not giving her a chance to think twice. Kissing the top of her head as he walked past her at the kitchen island, saying a quick goodbye and vanishing out the front door with a happy smile.
She sighed. “I think he wants a real date. Like dinner at the Chalet or something.”
Amanda sat back, shaking her head. “We all know that’s not happening. The Chalet on a Friday night will be pure chaos, especially right before Christmas. What if I reserve you that corner booth at Gallante? You know, the one that’s kind of hidden behind the bar? It’s right up against the windows so it feels open.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. Gallante was the upscale restaurant inside the Gallant Lake Resort. She’d met Amanda there a few times for a late lunch, when the restaurant was quiet. The wall of windows facing the lake gave the feeling of being outdoors. But the restaurant would not be quiet in the evening. The resort was a popular tourist getaway, especially for those looking to get out of New York City for a pre-Christmas escape. And the locals also frequented Gallante, since it wa
s the only show in town for fine dining.
Yes, it would be difficult for her. But Matt had been working so hard. And he wanted so much to be out in public with her. He hadn’t pressured her outright about it, but he kept dropping suggestions that it “would be nice.” She picked up her phone and texted him.
How about Gallante for tonight? Amanda can make reservations.
The answer was swift.
Perfect. Make it for seven and I’ll pick you up.
She looked at Amanda with her bravest smile.
“Book that table for seven o’clock.”
Amanda made a face as if whistling in surprise. “You got it. Do you want me to hang around the restaurant, just in case you need...anything?”
“Nope. I’ll be fine.”
None of her friends looked like they believed that, but she was going to give it her best shot.
Six hours later she and Matt stood in the parking lot of the Gallant Lake Resort. The entire fieldstone-and-timber hotel was twinkling with Christmas lights. Thick pine garlands draped over the massive front doors and down the sides of the stairs. It looked like a holiday card.
It was terrifying.
Matt leaned over and whispered, his breath hot across her ear. “We don’t have to do this.”
She pressed her lips tightly together. She’d come this far. The man wanted a date. She wanted the man.
“I’m okay. I mean...I’m not okay, obviously. I can’t move. But we’re here. All I have to do is get through the lobby. The restaurant will be better. Just let me gather my thoughts...”
Matt chuckled, sliding his arm through hers and drawing her to the side, away from the doors. “I meant we don’t have to go through the front doors. Or through the lobby. Come on.” He looked down at her feet. “I’m glad you wore sensible shoes.”
“They’re not that sensible.” She’d changed into this pantsuit from the dress she’d tried on first. She hadn’t worn a dress in years, and thought it might make her feel too anxious. She had enough anxiety as it was. So the trim black wool suit and blue silk blouse would have to do. Just because her ankle boots were...well...boots, that didn’t mean they were sensible.
“That wasn’t an insult, babe.” Matt led her down the sidewalk in front of the hotel and then off into the frost-covered grass. “They’re very pretty and I can’t wait to slide them off your feet later tonight and kiss my way up your leg. But I think five-inch stilettos would have been challenging on the lawn.”
“Where are we going? And what would you have done if all that snow hadn’t melted this week?”
He gave her a playful scowl. “Don’t mention the M-word. There will be no more melting talk until after the holidays. I need to be able to make snow next week.” She rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement.
“Fine, but you still haven’t said where we’re going.” She hurried to keep up with him on the slippery frozen grass. “We have reservations at Gallante. Amanda took care of it.”
He grinned down at her. “You’re not the only one with connections in this place. Blake left a side door open for us. It’s normally for deliveries, but at night he said the hallway would be quiet.”
They stopped by the nondescript door, braced open just a fraction with a small stone. It was a good thing, since there was no handle on the outside. She was giggling when they stepped inside.
“I feel like a spy! Or a thief.” She watched as he kicked the stone away and let the door close securely.
“I promised Blake I wouldn’t invite any actual thieves inside after we got here.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “You okay?”
The hallway wasn’t pretty. Cement floor and white walls, with long fluorescent lights on the ceiling. It sloped gradually upward. It was wide and, most important, empty. So much better than the lobby, which would have been crowded and noisy with holiday tourists. And probably more than she would have been able to handle. She smiled.
“I’m definitely okay. This is brilliant.”
He swelled with pride, clearly pleased with himself.
They went down another, smaller hallway, then through a door that opened into a public area, but a quiet one. The floor was carpeted, and the walls shimmered with metallic gold wallpaper. There was a woman checking her coat at the coatroom, laughing with the young woman inside. Jillie clutched Matt’s hand, and he squeezed in acknowledgment but didn’t slow. Two more turns, a few more people, and they were inside the restaurant at last. The hostess acted as if she’d been watching for them, grabbing two menus and hurrying to lead them back into the far corner, near the windows and away from other diners. Jillie slid into the booth and let out a long breath, then started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Matt was watching her carefully, probably wondering if laugher was a sign of impending doom.
“It’s a writer thing. We tend to roll our eyes when book characters do cliched things like letting out a breath they didn’t know they’d been holding. But that’s exactly what I just did. I didn’t know I was holding my breath while we walked through the restaurant, until I sat down and let it out with a whoosh like a leaky tire!”
“But you’re okay?”
“Seriously, Matt, if you’re going to ask me that every five minutes we may as well go home.”
He promised to stop, but she knew he was still nervous. Hell, she was nervous. This was a hug step for her. They both relaxed as their meal went on. They forgot about the other people and stared out the window at the lights twinkling in the trees leading to the lakeshore. Their conversation grew less hesitant, and by the time their elegant desserts were served, they were arguing about whether his apple fritter topped with cinnamon ice cream was better than her chocolate rum cake with raspberry sauce.
“Come on, it’s Christmas in the Northeast,” Matt exclaimed. “What’s more authentic than apple pie or an apple fritter?”
Jillie waved her fork at him. “Maybe for Thanksgiving, but Christmas is a time for over-the-top desserts. Look how pretty this is!” She gestured toward the towering cake.
“Hmm. Pretty is as pretty does.” Before she could react, he reached out and snagged a large forkful of her cake.
“Hey!” She retaliated by stealing a bite of his apple fritter. They laughed and agreed that both desserts were pretty amazing. It wasn’t until they were drinking their after-dinner cognac that Jillie felt her first twinge of panic. It was her own fault. She’d started to mentally pat herself on the back for doing so well. Which, of course, opened the door to thinking about all the reasons she was doing well, like Matt’s company and the way he made her feel. It also opened the door to all the reasons she should not be doing so well. She was sitting in a crowded restaurant on a Friday night for the first time in years. There were strangers all around her, including a noisy cluster of younger couples at the bar. They’d had too much to drink. They were...unpredictable.
And unpredictable was never a good thing for her. Unpredictable was dangerous. What if they moved closer? What if they came to the table...why would they come to the table? It didn’t matter. If they came any closer, they might block her access to the door. Even if they didn’t, she’d never make it across the full restaurant to the main doors, where more laughing people were gathered. What if she couldn’t get to the outside? What if she passed out right here, in front of Matt? Would he be disgusted? Would he be embarrassed? Would he stop seeing her?
“Jillie?” His voice sounded as if it was in an echo chamber. She blinked and looked at him, but it was like looking through binoculars the wrong way. A narrowing tunnel surrounded by darkness. He spoke again, and she knew the words, but she was having a hard time understanding. “All right,” he said calmly. “Let’s get out of here. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you.” She was aware of his arm around her waist. Her coat over her shoulders They were walking. He was speaking to other people, but everything was a blur to her
. Colors. Lights. Shadows. A burst of laughter ahead of them, then they were past it. They were in an echoing hallway now...and then they were outside.
The shock of the cold air helped make her more alert. Still, her legs buckled. Matt swept her into his arms, carrying her around the hotel and back to his car. The whole time he was murmuring words of comfort in her ear. Promising she was okay. Promising to protect her. Telling her...wait...
Did he just say he loved her?
If the cold made her alert, that word snapped her right to attention.
* * *
Matt stopped by his car, Jillie in his arms. Her panic attack came out of nowhere, after a near-perfect dinner date. Just because he’d stopped asking if she was okay didn’t mean he’d stopped watching her closely. The first signs had appeared after dessert. One minute she’d been laughing and stealing his apple fritter, and the next minute her eyes were going glassy as she started looking around the room.
That was when he knew there was a problem. She’d ignored the restaurant until that moment. Until then, it was as if it was just the two of them in an intimate little bubble. As soon as she became aware, her pupils began to dilate, her breathing became more rapid, her color paled. He’d already given his credit card to the server, so he went by instinct. He ushered Jillie away from the table, hurried her out the back door and got her outside where it was safe. Carrying her to the car without falling was no easy feat in the icy grass, but he’d managed. He could tell she was coming back to him. Calming down, snuggling into his arms.
And then he blurted out the words. He was trying to calm her, that was all. But the declaration slipped out.
I love you.
It was fruitless to hope she hadn’t heard, because he’d felt her whole body go completely still. He let her legs slide down until she was standing there in front of him. There was no point in pretending.
