Page 54 of Matthew
They were going to learn just how badly they’d underestimated him.
Chapter Twelve
Callie woke to the soft thump of Sammy jumping off the bed.
Her room was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant rustle of trees outside her open window. Pale morning light filtered through the curtains, casting everything in a soft, gauzy glow. For a few seconds she lay still, letting the weight of sleep fade and the memory of last night settle in its place.
Rain on the roof.
Matthew’s mouth on her skin.
The feel of his body against hers, around hers, solid, warm, worshiping in a way that had undone her completely.
Callie blinked up at the ceiling, the echoes of last night wrapped around her in a blanket of warmth. Her heart beat a little faster at the memory of how he’d touched her, not only with his hands, with his gaze, too, his voice, even the silence between words, as if she were something rare.
Somethinghis.
She exhaled slowly, her palm sliding across the sheets beside her, fingers brushing the place where his body hadn’t been. The cotton was cool, but her thoughts were heated. Memories of the lean-to, skin against skin, the hush of his breath at her ear, the weight of his presence anchoring her in a way nothing else ever had.
He hadn’t stayed.
There wasn’t a second round.
He’d walked her home, kissed her with strong gentleness, and let her go.
Normally, Callie would’ve been fine with that. Would’ve appreciated the space. The respect. She would’ve insisted on it. In the past, she never let people linger, neverwantedthem to. Her boundaries were firm, her independence a carefully guarded thing. But something about last night and the way he’d looked at her, touched her, and held her with such heat and devotion, it left her feeling seen in a way she hadn’t realized she craved.
And after what had transpired between them under that lean-to, soaked in rain and raw honesty, she had to admit…she wanted more.
Not only more of him.
Morewithhim.
And now the ache in her chest had nothing to do with desire. It was the hollow ache of someone who’d been seen—reallyseen—and realized how badly she didn’t want to be invisible again.
“Woof!”
Sammy padded over and rested his chin on the mattress, his tail giving a soft thump.
“I know, bud,” she murmured, scratching behind his ears. “I’m up.”
The floor was cool beneath her feet as she made her way to the kitchen, the house still holding a hint of the storm, humid air, creaking wood, the smell of wet leaves through the cracked window. She let Sammy out, started the coffee, and tried not to overthink.
Tried, being the key word, because something had transpired between her and Matthew. Something real, and the scarier part was how good it had felt. Not only the physical heat, though. No, it was also the emotional clarity. He not only saw the woman who ran things and kept her walls up, but also the one behind all that. The one who felt too much and showed too little.
And she’d let him.
Now, with a delivery scheduled and questions still circling her thoughts, she wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that she wanted more.
At the sound of Sammy’s“Woof!”, she let him in, and while he ate, she enjoyed a cup of coffee, serenaded by the sound of him crunching his food.
Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed and ready for the day as she headed out the front door with her dog in tow. The sun was still low, casting long shadows across the yard and nursery. Sammy trotted alongside, nose to the breeze, tail swaying with easy confidence.
She followed, her pulse ticking up, not from nerves.
From instinct.
Something about the air felt different today.
