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“Well, this one definitely put me off dating for a long time.”
“But you eventually did date?”
“A bit, in college. I was inexplicably popular there.”
He was certain her popularity was explicable. “But nothing stuck?”
“No. Guys don’t want me.” He wanted to object, but she didn’t seem upset. It was more that she was stating an unremarkable fact. “They want some version of me that is less ambitious, less brittle, and more... malleable. Softer. They want the ballet-pink-nails girl.”
He wanted to say that “they” were misguided, that they didn’t know what they were missing, but she wouldn’t want to hear that. She wouldn’t want him to be affronted by her dating history.
“Which is fine,” she went on, “because I don’t want them, either. Not now. Maybe later in my career, when I...”
He was fairly certain she’d been going to say she might have time for dating once she’d made partner and that she’d only belatedly remembered that shewasa partner.
She looked distressed, so he tried to shift the conversation away from her, wanting to share some of himself in return for her being so forthcoming. “I, too, have found dating a challenge.”
“Yes. I gather it’s been five years?”
“My last girlfriend was in the army with me. We rubbed along well enough, but it was clear that to her, I was a convenience rather than a long-term prospect, and I’m afraid I rather felt the same.”
“Was she the one who gave you the Rilke poems?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You mentioned that your father had gambled away a first-edition Rilke that had been given to you by someone you admired.”
That seemed an odd thing for her to bring up, but he didn’t mind answering. He liked that Cara was interested in his life. “That volume was from a teacher of mine. He was the best teacher I ever had. Not to sound too melodramatic, but he changed my way of looking at the world. And he was a constant during a time of upheaval. We kept in touch after I went off to university. He left the Rilke to me in his will, if you can believe it.”
She tilted her head and looked at him intensely, in that way she had that made it feel like she was trying to see into his soul. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Did you by chance get any condoms? Do you have any condoms at your apartment right now?”
The question jolted him—in a good way. “I did, and I do.” He had gone to the village specifically to get some this morning.
When she didn’t say anything more, he shot her a wink. “So what exactly are you saying, Ms. Delaney?”
“You’re smart, Mr. Benz, you can figure it out.”
The bantery reversion to last names felt playful. An interpretation that was ratified when she threw a handful of snow at his head.
“Ah!” He sputtered theatrically. “Now you’re in trouble.”
She scrambled to her feet and ran. He followed, catching up as she reached the sleigh. She turned, and he slowed his approach but didn’t stop until he was right in her space. He lifted the handful of snow he was carrying and held it over her head, a joking threat. But when she reached up, wound her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down to her level, he forgot all about his planned retaliation. Her cheeks were pink, her grin was wide, and her hat was askew. She pressed one mittened hand on each cheek, planted a kiss on his lips that was way too short, and said, “Let’s get these sleigh bells jingling.”
After they handed the horses and sleigh over to Hilda, Matteo suggested they retire to Cara’s room at the pub rather than to his apartment. He had two reasons for doing so. One, he’d had the recovered panettone delivered this morning, and his apartment was covered with boxes of cake. Two, he had to take delivery of forty-seven geese in the village at four o’clock this afternoon, and it would be easier to extricate himself from Cara’s room in orderto do so than to eject her from his apartment. He had barely managed to make himself do that last night.
He gave a momentary thought to telling her about his side job. They’d told each other a great deal, and while she would probably tease him, he had no doubt that she would keep his secret. And she didn’t live in Eldovia, so he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else finding out from her in coming years. What’s more, she didn’t meet the criteria for a basket—she wasn’t in need of any Christmas magic—so preserving the mystery didn’t matter.
In the end, he couldn’t quite do it. He and Kai and Torkel had spent years being so secretive that Matteo had trouble dropping the subterfuge.
“But doyouhave condoms?” he asked as he parked near the pub, belatedly realizing the flaw in his plan to move the... action to her house. “I can pop over to the pharmacy and get some if need be.”
“I have some in my room.” She quirked a smile. “I like to be prepared when I travel.”
“And here I thought you were all about packing light.”
