Page 20 of My Vigilante Valentine

I blinked. “Oh, really? You carry zip ties. Normal people don’t carry zip ties, Jax.The Blade does.”

“I like to be prepared.”

“Forwhat?Kidnapping? Not exactly a comforting excuse.”

His fists clenched. “I’m not The Blade.”

“Liar.”

At that, he did flinch.

Good.

I was right, and we both knew it. I mean, really, what else would make sense?

Of courseJax is a crime-fighting vigilante. The moodiness, the ever-present hoodie, the way he always sat in that secluded corner like he was morally obligated to be edgy and mysterious?

I took a calming breath, and then, tapping my fingers like the evil villains he probably fought, I shot him a look that was equal parts smug and shamelessly smitten.

He glared, which only made him more attractive because, apparently, I had zero self-preservation instincts.

I grinned wider. “Jax, I just watched you take down a guy with a gun with your bare hands. With the kind of speed that shouldn’t be possible. You know who else can do that?”

His eye twitched.

“The Blade. The Blade does that, and that means you’re him.” I paused, holding up a hand. “Hang on, are you human? Please tell me you are, or this is definitely gonna be weird for me. Never mind. Forget I asked. I don’t wanna know.”

Jax exhaled through his nose, looking about three seconds away from throwing himself out the nearest window. “You need to calm down.”

I burst out laughing. It was nowhere close to a polite chuckle. It was a full-on, doubled-over, can’t-breathe kinda laugh, because was he for real right now?

Even through my laughter, I knew my heart raced for a new reason now. It was no longer the adrenaline from the break-in or his ridiculous denial of the truth. It was a kind of electric, jittery excitement that fizzled under my skin like too much caffeine.

And it wasn’tjustexcitement.

It was something hotter, like my attraction for the man before me had just been cranked up to eleven, daring me to pretend it was just a crush.

I’d seen this happen twice now, and at the bank, The Blade had looked good doing it.

But here, as Jax?

He’d lookedreallyfreaking good.

The way his strong jaw clenched, the flexing of his fantastic forearms, the steely intensity in his eyes that screamed of his hyper-competence in the most delicious way?

It was catnip, and I was a cat.

A lovestruck one with cartoon hearts for eyes, and I couldn’t keep away my smile as Jax tried to look like a lean, mean, brooding machine.

I threw my hands up. “Are you actually sticking to this story? That you’re not him? Or he’s not you?”

Jax crossed his arms and sighed deeply.

And then, he tried a different tactic.

I saw the switch—like a plan set in motion that he was absolutely sure would work.

He straightened up, making a show of menacingly crossing his arms even tighter across his broad chest. And as he took adeliberate step closer, his shadow stretched between us like a sinister movie poster.

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