Page 19 of The Fiance Dilemma

“My glasses,” he finally said. “I fell asleep on the couch and couldn’t find them in time to get the door. Couldn’t be sure it was you until you were close enough to punch me.”

A strange wave of relief hit me.

Of course. His glasses. I’d noticed the absence of them on his face but hadn’t put two and two together. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I’m usually more thoughtful than that.”

He tilted his head. “You’re memorable enough already. You don’t need to resort to violence.”

A part of me wanted to remind him he’d thought I was some strange woman on a porch the night before. “You sleep a lot. And you should have said so before.” I snagged the bags off the ground, then pushed them against his chest. “You bring these to the kitchen. Or, wait. You stay here until I find your glasses. And then we talk.” I turned around, ignoring the question on his face. “I’d really like you to see my face for this conversation.”

Matthew’s smile fell, but I scurried into the living room before I could discover why and got started with the search.

“I know Lazy Elk like the palm of my hand, you know?” I called loudly, lifting up one of the cream-colored pillows before dropping it on the carpet. “Before Adalyn and Cameron left town, I was spending a lot of time here. And before you ask, I didn’t mind third-wheeling. I’ve always been confident in my singlehood, as much as you might think the opposite, considering… everything that has transpired.”

I stared at the pillowless couch, bringing my hands to my hips and calculating my next move.

“Anyway,” I said, carefully unfolding and shaking blanket number one. “I think they’ll want babies soon,” I added, discarding the burgundy wool cover aside. “They’re spending New Years in Italy, and that’s a pretty romantic country to be… you know.” I kneeled, going down on my knees and checking under the couch. “Have ali’l cheeky shag,like Cam would say. Not that he’d ever— Found them!”

I jumped back to my feet, glasses in hand, and a proud smile on my face. Matthew’s tall shape was there, right between the living and kitchen areas in the cabin’s open space, no bags in his arms. His expression was… strange. Pensive with a touch of something I couldn’t put a name to.

“Got your glasses,” I told him. And because he didn’t answer, I strode in his direction.

His gaze seemed to follow me as I made it all the way to where he stood. When I reached him, that thinking face didn’t go away. “Not sure if I should do this,” I told him, gently swiping the lenses with the cotton tee I wore under my sweater. “But they were laying on the carpet, so.”

My gaze returned to his face, finding his chin tipped down to look at me. Matthew was tall. A few inches taller than me, which had me tilting my head back. Silence seemed to lazily settle aroundus now that I wasn’t filling it, and he seemed to be waiting for something. Without thinking too much of it, I lifted my hands, the glasses rising in the small space between us with them. Gently, I touched the tips to the sides of his head. And when Matthew didn’t complain, I pushed them forward, slipping the temples into his hair.

His eyelids fluttered closed. In reflex or reaction, I couldn’t tell. I only knew it made me a little bolder. Before I could stop myself, my pinkies were brushing him. The sides of his neck. It was nothing but a soft, featherlike brush of my skin against his. But I was close enough to see his pulse jump.

He swallowed.

A shiver curled its way down my arms in response.

Matthew’s eyes reopened, the quality of his gaze changing, the brown in his eyes sharpening. He glimpsed down, at me, my face, my mouth.

Something between my belly and chest took notice. And I—

I stepped back.

Matthew blinked, as if spat right out of a turning wheel.

“Coffee,” I said, clearing my throat. “Let’s have coffee.” My hand rose to my face, unconsciously patting my cheeks. They were burning. “And snacks. Fruit. I’ve brought everything. What do you say?”

“You lead the way,” Matthew answered, moving to the side. Was his voice strange? “I have no idea where anything is here.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. In a matter of minutes we were seated across from each other with twin mugs of freshly made cappuccinos and everything I’d brought with me displayed between us.

“I hate to be that person who looks a gift horse in the mouth,” Matthew said, gaze swiping every single container currently on the kitchen island. “But last time someone showered me with this many sweets, I was being bribed into taking my two sisters and three little cousins to Funtown Splashtown for a whole weekend.”

Well, shoot.“I’m not bribing you,”I exclaimed with a slightly high-pitched laugh. “No one’s bribing anyone. This is just coffee.”

Matthew momentarily arched a brow but brought his mug to his mouth. Unlike last night—or this morning—he seemed a little more… easy. Comfortable, even. Not so drained and perplexed. Good. That hopefully meant he’d be more willing, too.

“Holy shit,” he said, looking down at his coffee. “This is… wow. This is fantastic.”

“You know I run a very popular coffee shop, right? I know it’s fantastic.”

“My apologies,” he said in a joking tone. “I should have expected no less.” He eyed Cameron’s coffee machine on the counter. “I guess I was fooled with my own experience. I bought my dad one of those last year for Christmas, and whatever we did with it, coffee never tasted like this. Not even remotely close. And there was an embarrassing number of YouTube tutorials involved, trust me.”

“It takes some practice,” I pointed out with a shrug. “And I started years ago, if it makes you feel any better. With an older and less sophisticated model than the one Cam has here.” My smile turned a little smug, but I couldn’t help it. I was proud of myself. “There’s always a trick for the foamer,” I explained. “And the roast of the beans has to be right for milk-based brews. You have to go dark so you can still taste the richness of the coffee. And of course, the blend is also super important. One-hundred-percent Arabica, naturally, but the origin? Now there—” I stopped myself. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

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