Page 55 of My Vigilante Valentine

This was what we wanted, right? People noticing us? Talking about us?

So why did my hands shake as I filled his mug?

“Here,” I said, sliding the mug toward him. “Extra dark and broody, just how you like it.”

He took the mug with his gaze locked on mine. “Thanks.”

And then he just... stood there.

Watching me.

Like he was trying to figure something out.

“What?” I asked, swiping the back of my hand over my cheek in case I had stray coffee grounds on my face.

“Just wondering if you’re sure about this.”

I glanced around before I responded, verifying that no one was close enough to hear. “About the plan?”

He nodded.

Chris was working hard to crack the phone, and now, all we had to do was play our roles. Maybe we’d get lucky, and The Villain would spot us by chance, but I was hoping Chris’s efforts gave us a faster way to step into the killer’s crosshairs.

NBD.

We totally had this.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” I replied with absolute conviction.

His eyes searched mine for a moment longer before he finally stepped back. “We should talk. About... logistics.”

“Logistics,” I repeated. I’d wanted to talk about that last night, but he’d put me off in favor of prowling the streets with his hood and his swords.

Selfish.

“My table when you’re free?” he asked.

I nodded a little too eagerly. “I’ll bring the cookies.”

He sighed, but it wasn’t his usual exasperated sigh. This one had a hint of fondness to it. “If you insist.”

“I do. And by the way, are you ever going to look at that mug?”

He didn’t look down for a moment, almost like he was intentionally doing it just to mess with me.

It was working. I exhaled through my nose and used my eyes to gesture at it, and he actually grinned before finally dragging his gaze to the mug in his hand.

And then… the grin fell from his face like a brick, replaced with the flattest look I’d ever seen.

“What? You don’t like it?” I deserved an Oscar for the straight face I wore.

Jax held up the charcoal gray mug with an illustration of The Blade painted on the side, glancing around before hissing, “Where did you even get this?”

“Etsy,” I replied, then held up a hand. “And before you ask, Chris got it for me months ago, before I knew… anything. He just knew how I felt about Slate Harbor’s favorite superhero.”

Oh, but the look that man gave me.

It was pure, concentrated disapproval.

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