Page 43 of The Fiance Dilemma

His back hit one of the shelves I knew stood between three and four feet from the door. “What the…” Matthew started. I shut the door behind me and raised my hand; the one lightbulb above us lit up with a click. Matthew’s frown materialized. He blinked. “Did you bring me into a supply closet?”

Yes.

And it seemed awfully small with Matthew in it.

“So… you wanted to talk?”

Matthew stared at me. For one, two, three, ten seconds. At least. Then he released a long exhale, making some of my hair move. That was how close we were standing. I decided to ignore space and focused on how minty his breath was.

“So there’s no back shop,” he finally said.

“I do have a back supply closet, though,” I countered. “And a nosy friend who is no longer my friend. And very nosy customers. You wanted to have a word. So what is it?”

Matthew’s brows furrowed even more. It wasn’t a scowl, but he still didn’t look satisfied with any of the explaining I’d just done.

“Listen,” I said, shifting on my feet. My hip hit something, a shelf, making me move away. Warmth hit my other side.Matthew’s warmth.“You made a very dramatic entrance into a packed establishment. It threw me off and I did my best to handle the situation. I improvised with the back room comment to give ourselves some privacy. Away from them, and especially Gabriel. To talk. Does it really matter that I don’t have one? Everyone knows that anyway.”

He held his breath for like a second, then huffed out a laugh. “Everyone knows that anyway?” he repeated, and I gave him a nod. “Do you really believe they’ll think you brought me into a dark closet to talk?”

My lips parted with the realization. “Oh.” That was a very good point. I was terribly off my game lately. “We’re engaged,” I whispered loudly. “To be married. So it wouldn’t be that strange for us to, you know, want to sneak out andget each other’s kettle meddled with,if you know what I—”

His finger fell gently on my lips, sending my whole body into shock. “No cute euphemisms for sex, please. I’m trying my goddamn best here, Josie, but I don’t think I’ll be able to stay mad at you if you get all sugary-sweet.”

Shock melted away, giving way to a strange kind of warmth. And as much as I tried to ignore it, it only got worse when Matthew’shand shuffled to the side, his finger leaving my mouth and his palm settling on the side of my neck. “You’re mad?” I breathed out.

“You sent me an SOS,” Matthew explained, his brow knotting again. The urgency with which he’d stormed in returned to his eyes. “You can’t text me an SOS when there’s no real emergency. Do you have any idea how—” He shook his head. “Irandown here. From the lodge. I thought something was wrong. You wroteI need you.”

The sensation in my stomach skipped, realization rippling. “So that’s why you’re wearing a slutty shirt and slutty sweats?” My voice turned to a whisper. “You were working out? You didn’t leave me on read?”

My heart plunked to the ground at my own words. I hadn’t meant to say that, and hearing it left me a little off-balance. Glass clinked together behind me, and our bodies drew closer together. Mine, to move away from the rack. And Matthew’s, to stabilize me.

“Why are you so surprised?” he asked, the heat coming off him, and the palm still at the base of my neck making me warm.

“I don’t know,” I said, immediately realizing it was a lie. I did know. “I guess I assumed you were done with my dramatics. Most people don’t take an all-caps message from me very seriously. So I assumed you’d… call. Or text. Later.” The breath he let out hit my cheek, and I shivered a little, even when it felt so incredibly hot in the tiny room. “You didn’t need to drop what you were doing and come rescue me. Next time I text an SOS just… maybe put on a hoodie and calmly make your way down to me instead?”

His thumb moved, grazing the underside of my jaw. “You can’t send me an SOS, then, Josie. An SOS means I fucking run.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You’re being very rigid about this,” I told him, and boy, did my voice come out rocky. “It was just a text.”

“I am rigid when it comes to important things,” he conceded. And when he stepped even closer, I could feel more than his breath falling on my skin. I could scent the perspiration on him. The proofof the exertion. I could touch his skin, too. If I dared to. I could see how it felt under my fingertips. Damp? Dry? Sticky? As smooth as it looked? “There are rules for this, Josie. It’s the first thing I taught my little sisters when they started going out. I don’t take this shit lightly, and no one else should either.”

His little sisters.Did he see me as such? Not as a sibling, but as someone whose protection he was responsible for? The thought both chilled and warmed my skin. “Is that why you didn’t hesitate to help me that first night on my porch?”When you didn’t know who I was.

“Oh, I hesitated,” he answered, and I knew he was being sincere. His voice always went down. “Believe me, I was tempted to turn around and run.”

But he didn’t. Because I seemed like I was in trouble, and he had sisters and took SOS texts very seriously. God, he was such a good guy. I wished… we were under different circumstances. Normal ones. Circumstances that would allow us to… to what, Josie?

I shook my head. “If it makes you any less mad, there is an emergency of sorts,” I murmured, my chest suddenly feeling… tender. Soft to the touch. Vulnerable.He’d run down here. Run. For me.“It’s not exactly life-threatening. But it’s almost as bad: Andrew’s coming.”

“Of course he is,” he muttered under his breath. “Is that what Bobbi wanted last night?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I kind of ignored her text. Yesterday was a good day, and I wanted that to last a little longer.”

Matthew’s expression softened, and I didn’t want to read too much into it, but I swore I could see a hint of smugness, as if he was proud of me for making Bobbi wait.

“Adalyn offered to drive to Green Oak,” I added. “To be with me.”

Matthew seemed to consider my words, then he said, “Is she going to?”

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