Page 70 of Matthew
By midmorning, the nursery was in full swing.
The clatter of loading carts, snippets of cheerful customer conversation, and the buzz of pruning shears should’ve been comforting. Normal. Blissful.
But every sound scraped at Callie’s nerves.
Matthew hadn’t texted back yet, and even though she told herself that was a good thing and meant he was working leads, it didn’t stop the knots in her stomach from tightening.
She stood restocking the counter seed packet display, deftly watching as Rosie rang up a flat of succulents for an older couple. The girl was her usual sunny self, smiling, chatting, tapping in totals as if second nature.
But Matthew’s concern at having observed Rosie the other day, leaning into the window of a delivery van and handing the driver a note or something as he glanced oddly toward the office, kept nagging her brain like a song stuck on repeat.
Was Rosie being friendly?
Or was she involved in something she didn’t understand?
Damn, she hated the uncertainty, but what she hated more was doubting someone she knew and trusted.
Callie didn’t want to believe it. But after this morning, after that truck, she couldn’t afford to ignore anything.
Glancing out the side door, she watched Nate restocking compost bags near the east trellis, his sleeves rolled up, tan lines sharp on his forearms. He’d already asked her twice if she was okay, and the third time—after she jumped at the sound of a truck backfiring—he gave her a look that saidI know something’s wrong. Talk to me when you’re ready.
She’d nodded, grateful for his quiet support.
Matthew’s SUV finally rolled in around eleven, accelerating her pulse because, well, she enjoyed being around him. He made her feel safe, protected, but most of all, she felt valued.
Callie wasn’t the only one happy to see him. His arrival drew a low wag from Sammy and a full-body wiggle from Tater, who nearly tripped over his own legs bounding outside with her to greet him.
Her steps slowed and heart thudded. He looked tired, focused, but the moment their eyes met, his shoulders softened a notch.
He bent to greet the dogs, then straightened with a half-smile. “Morning.”
“It’s almost noon,” she said, her tone a little harsh.Jerk.She shook her head and blew out a breath. “Sorry.” And because she needed the connection and didn’t care who saw, she stepped up to him, set her palms on his chest, and kissed his cheek. “Good morning.”
He went still for a second.
Then his hand slid to her lower back, grounding her as he always seemed to do, his voice rougher than before. “Sorry, too. I was coming. I wanted to get here sooner, but I had to be sureabout the box, about the link. If I showed up with nothing but instincts, I might’ve made things worse.”
Her breath caught at the worry and censure clouding his gaze. But worse than that was the guilt she’d heard in his voice, as if he’d failed her.
“Matthew.” She slid her hands up to his shoulders and squeezed. “You never make things worse. You only ever make them better.”
A week ago, there was no way Callie would’ve admitted that to a man.
But Matthew wasn’t an ordinary man. He was steady, capable…special, and she was slowly realizing how lucky she was to have him in her life. Keeping things bottled up and close to the vest wasn’t possible with him.
Not that she hadn’t tried.
Yeah, Matthew wasn’t justaman. He washers—or at least, it was starting to feel that way. And the truth? She was tired of pretending she didn’t care as deeply as she did.
He stared into her eyes and looked at her as if he wanted to believe her. Like maybe he wasn’t used to being the one someone leaned on.
But how was that possible? Her heart squeezed. He was a Navy SEAL. They were sent in to help others. To rescue people.
Had no one ever thanked him?
Her throat heated and eyes burned at that thought, but she blinked away the tears. Something told her he would only view them as pity if he knew the origins. And she didn’t pity him. She revered him. Appreciated him. And she was not afraid to tell him.
Still holding his gaze, she cleared her throat. “I mean it, Matthew,” she said softly. “You showing up always makes things feel less impossible.”
