Chapter Twelve #2
“Of course. Of course. My lips are sealed.” Her sister made the universal locked gesture over her mouth. “Although, don’t forget we’re having dinner with her and Grandma tonight.”
Callie narrowed her gaze. “As long as you actually do keep your lips sealed.”
Her sister snorted. “How am I going to eat if my lips are sealed?”
“Maggie…”
“Alright. Alright.” She set a hand over her heart and raised the other one, palm facing Callie. “I promise I won’t tell her you and Matthew got busy to the rhythm of the rain.”
Callie growled. “Maggie!”
“What?” Her sister blinked. “I said I wouldn’t tell her.”
She closed her eyes, blew out a breath, then opened them again. “Just don’t.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist teasing.” Maggie reached out and set a hand over hers. “I won’t say anything. I promise.” After Callie nodded, her sister released her hand, and blinked at her. “So, then what happened on your porch?”
Unsure whether to keep sharing or not, she regarded the mischievous bugger closely.
“Come on,” her sister prodded. “You know you want to tell me.”
She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. True. “Then he walked me to my door, said he wasn’t coming in, but that he was going to kiss me.” She sighed. “Then he did.”
Maggie sighed too. “He’s a keeper. Don’t screw it up, Callie.”
Her chest tightened a little. She had no experience in relationships, other than high school stuff. She nodded. “I’ll try not to.”
The low rumble of a diesel engine drifted in through the open back door.
Callie straightened. “That’ll be the delivery.”
She glanced at the time on her laptop and rose to her feet, silently admitting she wished Matthew were there.
Or Nate.
She glanced at the lot on her camera feed and noted his truck wasn’t in the lot yet.
Maggie stood, brushing crumbs off her jeans. “Want me to come with?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Nah, it’s probably nothing. Carter’s having us flag one of the boxes for a closer look, though.”
Maggie frowned. “A closer look at what?”
Callie opened her mouth to answer, but the truck pulled into view of the camera feed, and her stomach dropped.
Not Mason.
This driver was someone new. Bald, with a scowl firmly in place.
Maggie raised a brow. “Sure you don’t need me?”
“I’m sure,” she said with more bravado than she felt, grabbing the box cutter off the corner of her desk and shoving it into her back pocket.
Her sister narrowed her gaze for a beat. “Callie, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she reassured, adding a smile. “It’s good to have it handy in case I need to check a box.”
Like the one on her manifest that shouldn’t be there.
Maggie regarded her for a beat, then nodded.
“Okay. I’ll let you handle this one. Yell if you need me.
I’ll take the dogs to the other office.” Her sister gave Tater a quick scratch behind the ears and shook her head at the slobbery boots laying discarded by the desk.
“You two are ridiculous. Come on, let’s go. ”
The dogs padded after her through the door that led into the main building, and as soon as the it clicked shut behind them, Callie walked outside in time to watch the lanky, unfamiliar man hop out of the delivery truck.
Definitely not Mason or Mickie.
Her pulse ticked up. This guy didn’t glance her way, didn’t crack a smile, just started pulling pallets like he had better places to be. Efficient. Brusque. No greeting. No clipboard banter.
She moved forward, trying to look composed, while her stomach twisted.
The sound of footsteps registered in her ears.
She turned as Matthew appeared from around the side of the greenhouse, sleeves rolled up, ballcap low, stride unhurried but sure.
Her breath left her chest in a quiet rush, as relief and something else washed through her.
He quietly fell into step beside her, and it was crazy how much comfort that simple act brought.
Calm. Solid. Warmth radiated off him, and it fueled her resolve.
“You okay?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“Now I am,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the delivery.
Together, they worked in easy rhythm. Matthew handled the pallets while Callie signed off, keeping her face neutral. When he angled one box slightly off the rest, she knew it was the one flagged for Carter to inspect.
The driver didn’t engage in small talk. He rattled off item counts and grunted when she confirmed them. But as he reached the truck’s lift gate, he paused and looked between the two of them.
“Didn’t expect you’d have help this morning.”
His tone wasn’t friendly, nor was it overt. Just off enough to catch her attention.
Callie offered a tight-lipped smile. “We like to stay efficient.”
The man didn’t reply. He climbed back in, slammed the door, and rolled away without another word.
She watched the truck disappear past the tree line, her jaw clenched.
Matthew briefly touched her lower back. “You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” Then she glanced at the marked box. “Let’s hope Carter finds something.”
As he walked toward the box he’d set aside, she caught herself watching the way Matthew moved. He was efficient, composed, and aware of everything without drawing attention to himself.
The guy steadied her.
And not with grand gestures or protective posturing, but by simply being there, shoulder to shoulder, eyes open, spine straight.
She wasn’t used to that.
Not in her world.
Not with her guard still up.
Somehow, though, with him, it didn’t feel like weakness to lean a little.
Matthew pulled the box a few feet farther from the others, then knelt and sliced through the packing tape with the kind of care that told her he’d done this before, and not only with potting soil.
Callie crouched beside him, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “What are we expecting?”
“Could be nothing,” he said. “Could be mislabeled inventory. Could be something someone didn’t want labeled at all.”
He peeled back the flaps.
Inside were twelve identical bags of Herbal Bliss – Organic Pest Repellent Mix. Pale green packaging, crisp branding, each one stamped with a lot number and some smug marketing line about “natural resilience.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. The bags were too clean. Too stiff.
She picked one up. Too heavy. Too compact . No give in the packaging. She leaned in and sniffed. No familiar scent, nothing sharp or minty or earthy. Just…sterile.
Matthew reached over and took the bag from her, testing the weight with a quiet frown. Then he drew his knife and carefully sliced the top open.
A fine, gray-white powder slid out in a slow pour. Smooth. Odorless.
Not herbal. Not even close.
She took a step back. “That’s not pest repellent.”
“No,” Matthew said, resealing the bag with duct tape he’d pulled from a pocket in his cargo pants.
“That’s hydroxypropyl cellulose. Filler compound.
Used in counterfeit pill production—oxy, benzos, worse.
Not dangerous by itself, and not illegal to transport, but when it shows up this way?
” He looked up, his jaw tight. “It’s part of something bad. ”
The words landed like a slow drop of cold water down her spine. Callie swallowed hard. Twelve bags. All of it hidden in plain sight among the normal stock.
And tucked inside her nursery as if it belonged there.
She looked toward the front of the property, the gravel drive quiet for now. “Caspian’s coming to get this?”
“Texted him five minutes ago.” Matthew nodded.
She leaned her arms on her knees and stared at the container between them. “This is my family’s business,” she said. “My home.”
“I know.” His voice was calm, yet fierce. “And we’re going to protect it.”
The sound of tires crunching gravel made them both look up. Caspian’s dark SUV appeared, and they watched him ease around the back edge of the greenhouse at a slow pace.
Matthew rose to his feet and offered her a hand up. “Let’s pack it back up. Let Carter and the team confirm what we’re dealing with.”
Callie hesitated for a second before taking his hand. It was warm and steady, and right now, exactly what she needed.
Whatever was going on, it was bigger than one mispacked box.
Caspian pulled the SUV in close, engine idling low as he climbed out with a nod.
“See anything on the way in?” Matthew asked.
“Yeah. That truck turning onto the backroad that leads to the next county.” Caspian popped the hatch. “I gave Carter a heads up to see if there are any eyes out there to track it.” He eyed the box. “What do we have?”
“Looks like hydroxypropyl cellulose,” Matthew replied.
Caspian shook his head, muttering a curse as he bent down to help Matthew load the box into the back of the vehicle. Callie watched the way both men handled it—carefully, as if they knew it was more than a mislabeled product.
She could feel it now.
Caspian shut the hatch, gave Matthew a quick update about Carter’s timeline, then pulled away with a wave.
The moment the SUV disappeared down the gravel path, silence settled again around the greenhouse.
Callie stared at the dusty footprint where the box had been. “I take it that was bad stuff.”
“Yes,” Matthew said quietly beside her.
Her stomach curled in on itself. “So, whoever packed that box—”
“Knew what they were doing. They chose something that wouldn’t raise eyebrows.” He looked at her then, steady. “It’s not illegal to have HPC. It is illegal to sneak it in mislabeled bulk through someone else’s business.”
She took a step back and pressed her hands against her hips. “I signed off on that shipment.”
Matthew’s voice gentled. “You didn’t pack it. And you flagged it. That’s what matters.”
She didn’t answer right away. The warmth of the sun suddenly felt too sharp on her skin.
“It’s not only my business,” she said finally. “It’s my family’s. I can’t let this kind of thing use it as cover.”
“You won’t.” He stepped close and set both hands on her shoulders, his gaze never wavering. “Not while I’m here.”
The words shouldn’t have made her feel anything, but they did.
It wasn’t only what he said, it was how he said it.
Like a promise. One he intended to keep.
She was so grateful to this man but wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not yet. That would involve exposing vulnerability, and right now, she couldn’t afford it. Not with everything that was going on at the nursery.
Still, she shifted forward to rest her forehead against his cheek and smiled when his arms automatically slid around her back and he held her quietly. He deserved at least a little acknowledgement of her appreciation because she did appreciate the amazing man.
So much.
Matthew’s steady presence and unending strength fed her resilience, and Callie needed it, now more than ever. But it meant her burgeoning feelings for him had to take a backseat.
Standing firm.
Staying strong.
Those were her priorities now, because the fight had found her, and no one was going to use her home—her birthright —for anything illegal.
Period.