Page 72 of The Fiance Dilemma

My smile turned bigger. Sappier. Probably uglier. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

“No.” He gave his head a shake. “I’ll make you another one.”

A strange wave of emotion rose, making my eyes… sting. And I—God. I couldn’t cry. It didn’t even make sense.Focus, Josie.Focus. I let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to do? Things have changed since we talked about our plan. There’s… December first. And Andrew invited everyone in town. I… haven’t talked to Bobbi, or been online, or answered my phone at all, but I guess the world knows about that now. Adalyn must hate me. Or think I hate her. Cam is probably furious.” I shook my head. “I had Grandpa Moe check in on them to make sure she was feeling better. But I’m still a horrible sister.”

“I talked to her,” Matthew said. “To Cam too.”

“You did?” My heart sped up. “To tell them what?”

Matthew’s exhale was long and deep as the air left his nose. “That Andrew blindsided us.”

Us.A breath caught. So he hadn’t just talked to Adalyn and Cam. He had for the two of us.

As if sensing I needed to hear more, he continued, “That we never planned for the date to be so soon, but Bobbi went behind our back. That they’re doing whatever serves the narrative, independently of what we want. That you were so caught off guard by that and the clip, that you needed a few days to unplug and recharge. That being in the spotlight is new for you, and you’re overwhelmed. That you were barely even leaving the house, let alone talking toanyone, and that that’s so out of character, I was scared and basically running circles around the place, making sure no one bothered you. And that unfortunately included them.”

My voice barely came out. “Were you? Running circles around the house?”

“I wanted to.”

But he hadn’t. Yet, he’d still made sure to keep things under control. Everything I’d neglected by hiding and curling into a messy, egg-splattered ball.

A strange sound bubbled up my throat. It was relief, I realized. Plain and simple. Overpowering, eye-opening relief. “We’re four days short of a month away. From December first,” I said. “That would scare me.” And it did.

There was a flash of surprise in the light brown of his eyes. The specks of green. “I agreed to this. I told you I’d do it. So give me some credit, yeah? I’m not going to have a change of heart and back down because Andrew makes some speech.” An exhale left him. “I don’t like or trust Bobbi, but she’s good at what she does. She had the video taken down.” His expression sobered, and he didn’t need to say the words.Although the damage has already been done.“Let’s give her room to act.”

I thought about that for a brief moment, but… “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t make a difference whether we call things off now or four weeks from today.”

Matthew’s answer was a nod.

“What… What about the other night?”

“What about it?”

“We…”

His hand rose, the backs of his fingers grazing the side of my neck, brushing my hair back. His head dipped. “You came,” he said in my ear. Just like I’d craved him doing minutes ago. Every night for three days straight. “Saying my name. It’s all right, we say things like they are.”

I stumbled over my words. Thoughts. The wave of heat washing over me. “Yes. It has to change something.”

“Has to or you want it to?”

The way he’d asked me reminded me of that night too. He always managed to give me a choice, the choice, no matter how or what. “I don’t want it to change anything.”

“Then it won’t.” He leaned back a little, watching my face. “But I think I want a revision of the rules.”

Grandpa’s words returned, making a splash.You got the boy wrapped into this whole thing.I had. And now he was asking for some control.

“Of course.”

“We add a new rule.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“I distract you, Josie. From whatever’s bothering you. Whatever’s making you doubt who you really are and what we’re doing. That’ll be my job.” His voice lowered. “Whenever you can’t, I take control. I won’t wait for you to ask. That’s my rule.”

Words from that night made it hard to answer him right away.Nudes. Jokes. A distraction. My dirty mouth. Is that all you want from me, then?I let him believe that. Of himself. But if I told him he was far more than that to me, he’d ask me what. What else am I, then? And I didn’t know how to answer that. All I knew was that the idea of Matthew, here, so close all I could smell was him and apple and cinnamon from baking me a pie, would make me say anything so he’d stay. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “Now, you show me what you’re hiding in the kitchen.”

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