Page 32 of Matthew
And then her fingers brushed against his.
A light touch, barely there.
But it shot straight through him.
He didn’t pull back. Couldn’t.
Instead, he leaned in, the movement almost involuntary. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes. Close enough to catch the warm, earthy scent of her—lavender and sun and something wild underneath it. Close enough to feel the weight of the air shift between them as if something real was about to tilt.
His hand lifted slowly, drawn to her without thought. He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, fingertips grazing skin that felt too soft for someone so tough. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second.
God, he wanted to kiss her.
He shouldn’t.
But why not?
Right then, everything in him leaned toward yes.
So he lowered his head and—
A loudbangshattered the stillness, metal clanging like a snapped tripwire. Sammy barked and jumped up from his sprawl, startled but ready.
Callie jerked back, breath catching. Her hand went straight to her hip where her phone was clipped, her voice sharp with reflex. “Probably Les. He’s always slamming that damn door.”
Matthew didn’t move.
His heart was still beating too fast. His body still humming from a moment that hadn’t happened.
She crouched to check Sammy’s collar, her gaze centered on the dog. She didn’t look at him, not once.
“I should check on that delivery,” she said, more to the dog than to him. “Make sure nothing’s missing.”
He gave a short nod, even though she wasn’t looking.
Fine. Professional. Steady.
That was the job. Hell, that was who he was, too.
But as he stood there, heat still under his skin, the distance between them restored and wrong, all he could think about was how close she’d let him get.
And how damn much he’d wanted more.
He hadn’t taken a full breath yet when his phone buzzed.
The vibration rattled against his thigh, sharp, quick, familiar. He pulled it out, eyes still tracking Callie as she moved down the path toward the back of the shade tunnel, her focus now locked on anything but him.
He pulled the phone out, his gaze still on Callie as she moved toward the loading zone. Her shoulders were squared, her stride purposeful. But he’d already learned how to spot the difference between calm and control. She was holding herself together, barely. That damn door slam had snapped her focus, maybe for the better. Maybe not.
He looked down at the message.
The screen lit up.
Carter:
Got a hit on one of the salvage queries. Might’ve found your truck’s origin. Sending doc now.
Matthew’s attention snapped back into place. He opened the attached file and scanned the contents.
