Page 73 of Matthew
Nate’s gaze hardened. “You think they’ll come back?”
Matthew didn’t hesitate. “If they think the product’s compromised, maybe not. But if they think someone saw too much or could talk—” He didn’t finish the thought.
Callie did. “Then they’ll try to shut it down.”
The wind stirred the leaves above them, sudden and sharp.
He gave her a long, unreadable look. “You scared?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m mad.”
A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. “Good.” Then his expression turned sober again. “You tell me what you need. I’ll be here early. I’ll stay late. I’m not letting anything happen to you or this place.”
Callie’s throat tightened. “Thanks, Nate.”
“Neither am I,” Matthew added.
Nate nodded once, as if it was already settled. “Then we’ll handle it.”
A beat passed. The quiet rustle of leaves and soft huff of Sammy settling near the table, his tail thumping once in perfect punctuation, met her ears.
Callie glanced between the two men—one a constant in her life, the other someone who’d crashed into it and somehow felt as vital. Their support and caring hit harder than she expected.
Her voice came out a little rough. “Okay. Then we start by figuring out who knew where that box would be.”
Matthew’s gaze sharpened, and Nate straightened, ready to take action.
“You want eyes out here, I’ve got ’em,” Nate said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If anything shifts—delivery schedules, staff behavior, anything odd—I’ll let you know before it hits the ground.”
Callie gave him a grateful look, one she hoped said everything she couldn’t quite voice.
A few seconds later, a faint voice floated toward them from the main building. Rosie, calling out to ask where the clipboard had gone.
Matthew’s head turned, his gaze narrowing slightly, not suspicion, not yet, but something aware.
Callie caught the glance and felt her pulse skip.
The note. The driver. She sighed. Things were such a mess.
She straightened. “Guess we’d better get back.”
They moved as one, the tension between them more settled now. But as she stepped out into the sunlight again, Callie couldn’t shake the feeling they were only beginning to dig beneath the surface.
Chapter Fifteen
Matthew woke before the sun, the air cool and still beneath the lean-to’s wide overhang. The old sleeping bag beneath him rustled as he sat up slowly, his joints stiff but familiar with discomfort. He stretched once, rolled his shoulders, and let the early hush of the nursery wash over him.
This made three nights in a row. Three nights of slipping in after dark, setting up camp where no cameras could catch him, and waking before dawn to disappear before Callie or the others arrived. It wasn’t ideal, but it was safer. Quiet.
Close.
After seeing the way her hands shook slightly the day her neighbor had spotted the truck idling outside the gate and how she’d set her jaw and kept moving forward anyway, he hadn’t been able to leave.
Now, it felt like the only place heshouldbe.
He leaned back against the post, resting his forearm across one knee, and waited.
Sure enough, twenty minutes later, he spotted her.
