Page 57 of The Fiance Dilemma

“Ah-ha.”

“So you like watching me suffer?” he asked, still as grouchy. “That it, huh?”

I shrugged a casual shoulder. “Not necessarily. Did you bring the snacks?”

“They’re in the car,” he said, sounding miserable. My lips popped open. “No. I’m not going to grab them and leave you up there because you’re fine.” I rolled my eyes, and a disbelieving laugh huffed out of him. “You’re not risking your neck for a goddamn welcome sign. So tough shit, but I’m not leaving your side. Period.”

I pursed my lips in thought, debating whether that had been hot, coddling, or sweet. “Period?” I repeated.

His nostrils flared. “Period.”

“Okay.” I shrugged. His expression relaxed. “I guess that’s a good thing, then. When I’m about to do this.”

“Do wh—”

I jumped off the ladder with a squeal, incapable of keeping the expression of pure joy off my face. Matthew stiffened, and sure,maybe his soul left his body for like a second, but just like I’d anticipated, his reaction was immediate.

His arms captured me in the air, easing me against a hard chest with an ease that made the flutter in my belly even more prominent.

Warmth replaced adrenaline as my body acknowledged all the ways I was pressed against him. My chest heaved against his, my legs hiked around his waist, while two strong arms held me in place. Much like the day at the game, only there wasn’t shock this time. There wasn’t reticence or hesitation. Just butterflies.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” I whispered, my words falling on his lips. Awareness danced in the brown of Matthew’s eyes in response as he rearranged me in his arms with a little bounce. The daisy I’d slipped in the front pocket of my overalls brushed his chin. Our faces were so, so very close, and he looked so, so very handsome in this moment, that the words toppled from my lips, “You’re wearing your glasses.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re a reckless woman. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well, you lied,” I murmured, officially distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Remind me about what.”

“It’s not clowns that terrify you the most.” I lowered my voice to a hush. “It’s clearly ladders.”

Matthew’s chuckle was a deep and rich sound, and it grazed my lips. “Maybe it is,” he said, that frown knotting his brow again. “Or maybe it’s seeing you hurt.”

Whatever amusement I’d been feeling vanished, the little space between us filling up with something else. Something a little somber, but something sincere.

Matthew lowered me to the ground slowly, a muscle in his jaw jumping when my feet touched the ground. One of his hands left my waist, coming to pluck the daisy out of the front pocket of myoveralls. He slipped the wildflower into my hair. Right above my ear. And when he said, “Beauty and defiance,” a breath caught in my chest.

He remembered what I’d said that night in my kitchen, a few days ago. When he’d asked me what made me smile.Wildflowers. They’re beauty and defiance.

“It was lying on the ground,” I murmured. “It must have been dragged all the way here by one of the wheelbarrows. It’s far from perfect, with so many petals missing, but it made me sad to see it lying there, so I picked it up.”

Matthew’s smile was soft. “Perfection is subjective.”

“That’s a beautiful thing to say.” And I loved that he thought so. I loved that I did too. “You can be so articulate for someone who occasionally sounds like a caveman.” I lowered my voice to imitate a masculine tone.“Me, Matthew. Me, protect. Ladder, bad.”

“Can you blame me?” he asked, tilting his head. “You mentioned Robbie and dropped my call.”

“What does that have to do with—” I stopped myself. My brows arched. “You can’t be jealous of Robbie.”

Matthew’s lips thinned. “He gets your muffins.”

“Everyone does,” I told him. But what my mind was blasting at max volume was,he’s not denying it. Matthew is jealous and he’s not denying it.

“Not me.” A shoulder was shrugged. “I don’t.”

I laughed. Like properly threw my head back and laughed. Matthew’s expression went lax for a second before puzzling itself right back. “You’ve gone through most of my pantry. Several times. All my kale chips? Gone.”

“Does that mean only I get them?”

---