Page 61 of My Vigilante Valentine

She had a point, as dark and twisted as it might be.

I offered her my arm, and when she slipped her hand through it, I tried to ignore how right it felt. “You look beautiful,” I said softly, angling down a bit so my nose could graze her temple as I did.

Her steps faltered slightly, and for once, she didn’t have a comeback.

“I can work on my delivery,” I offered, fighting a grin.

“Nope. That was perfect.”

I know.

“You cool if we take the truck there and then walk back after dinner? The restaurant isn’t too far.”

A line formed between her brows. “Why would we do that? We could walk both ways if you want.”

“Eh. No need to waste time walking there if we’re planning to be seen on our date and get attacked on the way home, right?”

“But what about your truck?”

My lips curved. “Don’t worry about my truck.”

The way I flew through these streets or along the rooftops overhead? I’d left my truck all over Slate Harbor for one reason or another. There was nowhere in this city that I could leave it that would take more than a minute or two to pick it up later.

But nobody liked a bragger.

We made our way down the stairs and out to my truck, and I helped her in. Not because it was a completely unconscious gesture, but because that’s what a real date would do.

Her dress rode up slightly as she climbed in, and I quickly looked away, focusing on closing her door.

Get it together, Thorne.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet but not uncomfortable. Luna hummed along to the radio, and I found myself relaxing despite the tension coiled in my gut.

This was just my average, everyday vigilante mission.

Nothing more.

The restaurant was exactly what we needed—intimate lighting, soft music, and couples everywhere. The host led us to a corner table with a perfect view of both the entrance and the rest of the dining room.

I pulled out Luna’s chair, and she beamed up at me as she sat. “Such a gentleman.”

“I try.”

Once we were settled and had ordered drinks, Luna leaned forward, lowering her voice. “So, do you think he’s here?”

I scanned the room again, noting exits and potential threats out of habit. “Hard to say. But someone’s watching us.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Really? Where?”

“Don’t look,” I cautioned. “But there’s a man at the bar who’s been too interested in this section since we walked in.”

Luna immediately looked, becauseof course she did.

I sighed. “What did I just say?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, but she didn’t look sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. But hey, that’s good, right? If we’re attracting attention?”

Our drinks arrived just in time to save me from agreeing with that ludicrous idea, and Luna took a sip of her wine while I nursed my whiskey. The candlelight caught the gold flecks in her eyes, making them sparkle in a way that was entirely unsportsmanlike.

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