River lifted the drink to her lips and took a sip. “That’s pretty good,” she admitted.
Mathew took a breath. “How about coffee with me sometime,” he said quietly. “Not a date-date. Just… coffee. At that little coffee shop in town? If you hate it, you can walk away and I’ll never bring it up again.”
Her smile faltered into something thoughtful. She tilted her head, searching his face.
“I know you think my job will get in the way,” he continued, voice steady. “And you might be right. But I’m trying to do better. And I’d like the chance to get to know you when you’re not bleeding in a hangar. I think you’d enjoy it if you give me a chance.”
River snorted. “A little confident, aren’t you?”
Mathew didn’t deny it. “I’m learning to be honest about what I want.” His gaze held hers. “And I want to get to know you better.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, like she wasn’t used to someone saying something that simple and meaning it.
Mathew kept his voice calm. “If your answer is no, I’ll respect it. I won’t keep showing up at your door with coffee like a stray that thinks it lives here.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “But if it’snot a no, if it’s just that you’re not ready, then I can wait. I’m good at waiting. I’ve just been waiting on all the wrong things.”
Her throat moved like she swallowed something thick.
Mathew reached for her hand, the one he’d stitched up weeks ago, and turned it palm up. The faint line of a scar sat there like proof of how quickly life could change.
Their eyes met again for a moment, then he lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the healed wound. It was innocent enough, but it felt like something deeper. And with the way River stilled, he was sure she felt it, too.
He released her hand and took a step back. “I’ll bring you coffee again tomorrow,” he said softly.
He backed down the stairs and headed for his car, leaving her in the doorway with the morning air and a decision he wasn’t going to force.
14
RIVER
River stared after Mathew, unsure of how she was feeling.
No one had ever treated her the way he’d been treating her lately.
No one.
Not her foster families. No one in past relationships. No one in her life had ever felt this trustworthy.
And that was exactly why she’d been holding back.
A lesser woman might’ve caved the first time he showed up with that gorgeous bouquet of daisies and roses. The truth was, the second she’d caught a glimpse of it, something in her chest had gone soft.
Deep down inside.
There was no way she was letting Emerson see that. No way she was giving anyone a front-row seat to whatever Mathew Klein was doing to her, especially when she didn’t fully understand it herself. She’d kept her walls up even though she’dwanted to chase after Lily and beg for those flowers, so she could see something bright and happy on her table.
But not just any something bright and happy. Something from Mathew.
Emerson hadn’t been wrong when he told Mathew she didn’t like flowers. River had said it to herself more than once—she wasn’t the flower kind of girl.
And yet…
That bouquet still filled her thoughts two weeks later.
Because it wasn’t really about the flowers.
It was about him showing up in that too-nice shirt, holding those beautiful flowers that she knew were for her.
Her.
