Page 22 of The Fiance Dilemma

I, Josie Moore, might act as mayor around here, but I didn’t make the rules. And the longer I went without a man off my arm, the more restless every expectant Green Oak resident grew. It didn’t exactly make the feminist in me sing, but one didn’t blame a rabbit for wanting to chase a carrot you dangled in its face.

“So where’s Marty?” Otto Higgings asked from my side.

“I was just thinking of you,” I muttered, keeping my gaze forward and my smile firm. “And not here. Yet. That’s also not his name.”

Chances were he wasn’t coming at all, but being delusional enough to think I could manifest things was something I loved to do. Plus, I had no alternative. It wasn’t like I could drive down to Tennessee and find some cowboy named Maverick to tangle in my mess. Believe me, I’d researched last night.

“They’re all the same to me,” Otto grumbled. “It’s hard to keep up anyway.”

Well, ouch. “Excited for the game?” I asked, keeping an eye on the entrance gate as people poured in. “I haven’t seen this many people since the Six Hills final last year. Do you think we’ll win?”

“Can’t say I care if we do,” Otto commented. “So how long is Marshall staying? And what’s with the gloves? It’s scorching today. One could say we’re in the middle of summer.”

I chuckled, but it came out all strangled. “Cold hands,” I lied. “Circulation problems. My hands and feet? Always cold. That’s completely normal stuff that happens to everyone.” I cleared mythroat, sparing him a glance. Coco was, as always, astride his hip. “How about you go look for a spot, huh? The stands are filling up quick, and the game will start in a few minutes.”

Otto scoffed. “And miss this now that he’s here? Absolutely not.”

He’s here?

Matthew’s here?

Heart suddenly racing, I turned, following Otto’s gaze.

Matthew stood at the far end of the pitch, boots firmly set on the green grass, legs clad in dark denim, and shoulders covered in a long-sleeve baseball shirt. Brown eyes—no glasses, I noticed—met mine in the distance.

My thoughts stumbled.

He’d shown up. Matthew was here. And that meant he was really doing this. We were really doing this. We were about to confirm the engagement, and as much as this was just Green Oak and in the big scheme of things, it didn’t matter all that much, the notion still had something in my stomach mirroring the strange discord in my head.

“Man looks like this is the last place he wants to be,” Otto pointed out from my side, making me realize I was not moving. “Can’t say I blame him, with all this fuss. He’s not even wearing his hat. Isn’t he a cowboy? Oh, isn’t that Diane?” He tutted. “I wonder when she returned from her retreat. She doesn’t look all that rejuvenated to me, if I’m allowed to say. Did you know that—”

“No time for gossip,” I rushed out, finally leaving my neighbor and his pug behind.

Diane was not only back, but she was also on the move. Toward Matthew. And that meant I needed to get to him first. Intercept my fiancé before she could. Otto Higgings waschild’s playcompared to that woman. She was a human lie detector. And persistent, too. So I jogged, stealing glances at her.

Diane did the same, picking up her pace the moment she spotted me.

I broke into a sprint.

Matthew’s brown eyes widened, but he remained in position, his stance widening and his arms stretching slightly, as if readying himself for whatever was coming his way.

He’d better. Because Diane was close. And I hadn’t run toward something this desperately since a raccoon broke into Josie’s Joint, trashed the pie of the month display, and refused to leave.

“HELLO!” Diane started.

But Matthew’s gaze didn’t leave me in favor of the other woman. Good.Great.My legs ate away the last of the distance and I said, just as loud as Diane, “CATCH ME!”

Matthew’s brows shot up.

I lunged at him.

It wasn’t a swift, delicate lunge. Not even remotely close to the way I’d embraced him on my porch the disastrous night that put all of this in motion. It was a tackle. One that should have sent both of us tumbling to the ground. If not for Matthew’s arms, that closed around my waist in a strong vise; and my legs, that wrapped around his hips.

He muttered something that sounded a lot likemotherfuckerunder his breath.

My lips popped open with an explanation, but it was forgotten the moment Matthew moved. One of his palms landed at the center of my back, and the other shifted under my leg. My thigh. He rearranged me around him. And I… I realized then I hadn’t thought this through well enough, because there were body parts. On body parts. Of various types.

“You caught me,” I pointed out.Clever.

---