Their tiny flames seemed to mirror the stars above as she moved between them, tending to her garden of lights. He lingered patiently, his mind intent on mischief, as she went about her task, carefully manipulating her tripod and photographing her glittering garden, her Tuesday night?s homework, overdue, as he knew from the email she had sent him that morning. He knew, too, that she thought him to be still overseas, and wouldn?t expect him back for a week at least.At length she seemed finished, for she began putting the camera equipment away. He smiled, and used her distraction to his advantage, gradually moving along the ring of trees until he was behind her, careful to use the obscuring gloom of the shadows to keep himself concealed. Eric smirked to himself as she bent over the candles, mindfully blowing them out one by one, her back to him. As the darkness crept forward with each extinguished candle, so did he, until at last she blew out the final light and he swiftly put his arms. Instead of letting me go, Matt touched my cheek. I was so surprised by the gentle gesture, I flinched the moment his skin grazed mine. ‘You had a little smudge of grease…’ He dropped his fingers and let go of my arm. I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand and felt the grease smear along my skin. ‘I always have grease on me somewhere,’ I reminded him as I ducked my head and tried to wipe it off again. Matt chuckled. ‘You’re making it worse.’ He snatched the rag hanging from my pocket and gently clasped my chin in his hand. Then he tilted my head upwards to give the stubborn spot its full due. ‘There!’ he proclaimed. ‘All perfect and pretty.’ Pretty. I actually stopped breathing altogether. ‘Come with me tomorrow.’ His voice sounded low and raspy. ‘Tomorrow?’ I parroted. My brain had definitely stopped functioning. His dimples blossomed again. ‘To Rhi and Joe’s. Tomorrow is Sunday.’ After witnessing the decline in Matt’s mood the week before, I’d resigned myself to not getting.
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