Page 49 of Matthew
Matthew let out a breath and kissed her again, gently this time.
Yeah. He was screwed.
And for the first time in a long damn while, he didn’t mind one bit.
***
The rain had softened to a drizzle, the kind that made the world feel hushed and slowed. But inside the lean-to, Matthew’s pulse hadn’t caught up.
Callie was still beneath him, her breath warm against his shoulder, skin damp with sweat and rain. He wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.
Then, from below the table, a low snuffle broke the silence.
Matthew blinked. A black nose poked out near their heads, followed by a pair of damp, curious eyes.
“Well, hell.” He let out a surprised breath, grinning as Sammy emerged soggy and sleepy.
Callie’s laugh was soft, breathy, and entirely beautiful. “He stayed the whole time, didn’t he?”
Matthew reached over and gave the dog a quick scratch. “Sorry, pal. Forgot you were under there.”
Sammy licked his wrist in reply.
They eased apart slowly, reluctantly, and Callie sat up, then scooted off the table. Her cheeks were pink, but not with embarrassment. No awkwardness. Just the flush of warmth still lingering between them. She caught his eye, and for the second time that day, it hit him like a punch to the ribs.
This wasn’t casual. This wasn’t a one-time, oops-we-got-caught-in-the-rain-and-had-a-moment thing.
Something had shifted between them, and it wasn’t going back.
While he put on his jeans, she found her bra, tugged it into place and wrung out her shirt before slipping it on.
“Yours is probably a lost cause,” she said, nodding at the sopping heap by his boots.
Snorting, he squeezed out the water and wrestled it on anyway. “I’ll survive. Pretty sure I’m already committed.”
“To what?” she asked, her voice low and teasing as she struggled into her jeans.
His eyes met hers across the short space. “To whatever this is.”
Callie didn’t say anything for a beat, then she gave him the tiniest smile. “Good.”
She nudged him gently with her shoulder as she straightened. Rain misted in, gentler now, as the sky still rumbled overhead.
Sammy bounded out first, tail wagging as if he hadn’t been a four-legged chaperone to their intimate moment. Callie followed him, stepping barefoot onto the gravel with zero hesitation.
Matthew stayed behind for a moment, watching her.
Strong. Beautiful. Independent as hell.
But she hadn’t pushed him away. Not this time.
He grabbed his boots, shoved them on without bothering with the laces, and stepped into the rain after her—soaked shirt, pounding heart, and all.
By the time they reached the main building, the worst of the storm had passed. The sky was still a muted steel, heavy with leftover humidity, but the thunder had rolled on, leaving behind puddles and the scent of wet cedar and stirred soil.
Callie stepped toward the breaker box attached to the utility wall, Sammy trotting beside her, unaware that the storm had rocked the world sideways.
Before she could reach it, Matthew caught her hand. She stopped, surprised, but she didn’t pull away. He gently tugged her closer, the hush of the moment stretching wide around them. Rain dripped from the eaves behind him. Her cheeks were flushed, her shirt clinging, her hair loose from its tie and curling around her jaw like a siren’s dare.
