Page 15 of Matthew
It was the strangest damn thing.
Callie’s hair brushed her shoulders as she turned, and her skirt swayed with each shift of her hips. The crowd faded. The heat didn’t.
“You actually can dance,” she said, a note of surprise threading through her voice.
Matthew leaned in, his smile slow. “And you’re less terrifying up close.”
“Flattery?” She arched a brow. “From a man in combat boots?”
“Careful,” he murmured, his hand adjusting slightly at her waist. “I might start thinking you like it.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t pull back. “Careful, yourself. I might start thinking you’re charming.”
The music swelled around them. Another turn. Another shared breath.
Their steps remained casual, but something shifted in the space between them. It tightened, not inappropriately, but close enough to notice.
By the second chorus, the teasing quieted. She looked up, her gaze meeting his with something softer now, less guarded. As if she’d momentarily forgotten why she kept her distance.
“You’re full of surprises,” she said.
Matthew didn’t blink. “Stick around. I’m just getting started.”
The music faded, applause rising in a soft tide around them. Before Callie could respond, a voice rang out from across the room.
“Hey, Callie! Got a minute?”
She turned toward the sound, brow lifting at some guy waving from the bar. She waved back, easy and familiar. Matthew didn’t recognize him. That alone wouldn’t have bothered him. The way she smiled? That was another story.
Callie looked back at him with a hint of reluctance that didn’t quite match her smile. “Duty calls.”
Matthew released her hand, watching as she made her way through the crowd. No rush. No apology. Just a woman who knew exactly where she was going and how to get there.
The man at the bar leaned in to speak to her, gesturing toward something outside the pub’s front window. Callie nodded, her brows drawing together briefly before she masked it with another smile.
By the time she returned to her table and slid into her seat beside Maggie, her laugh was back in place like nothing had happened.
Matthew, however, wasn’t so quick to forget. Whoever that guy was, he’d knocked something loose behind those honey-brown eyes.
And he intended to find out what.
Chapter Four
Callie crouched beside the herb display, nudging a crooked tag back into its slot and brushing a smear of dirt off her knee. Her hands smelled of lemon balm and lavender, normally enough to soothe her.
Not today.
Sunlight filtered through the oak trees lining the edge of the property, and though it wasn’t even full morning, heat was already settling in across the gravel paths. Somewhere behind her, the softclinkof pottery and the low murmur of voices told her that employees were moving through their usual routines of watering hanging baskets, checking inventory near the greenhouse, and chatting softly as they restocked seedlings.
She stood slowly, stretching her back and letting her gaze sweep the nursery. Her place. Her peace. Most mornings, it grounded her.
Callie pressed her lips together and shook her head, trying to clear the image of last night’s dance from her brain. The easy rhythm, the quiet tension, the stupid little spark that had bloomed in her chest when he’d leaned in and murmured something that made her laugh even when she didn’t want to.
It had been fun. That was all. A dance, a little flirting, a bit of distraction after a long day. Nothing more.
Except her pulse still quickened when she thought about how close they’d stood, and the way he looked at her. Steady. Focused. Like she wasn’t another local business owner with dirt under her nails, but rather someone he wanted to be near.
Her phone buzzed from the workbench near the potting shed. She walked over and checked the screen.
