Page 63 of My Vigilante Valentine

And, judging by the way she was studying me now, I wasn’t doing a good job of acting like she hadn’t just flayed me open.

“Wait, better yet?” She leaned back and changed course. “What if someone asks how we met?”

I relaxed a little. “Easy. We met at your coffee shop.”

“Okay,yes, but what’s our story? When did you first notice me? When did I first notice you? These are important details.”

“You really think someone’s going to ask us that?”

She shrugged, picking at her food. “Maybe.”

But there was something in her voice that hinted that maybeshewanted to know, and that thought made my tie feel just a bit too tight again.

“When did you first notice me?” I asked instead of answering.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh no, you first.”

I took another sip of whiskey, buying time. Because the truth was, I’d noticed her the moment I walked into Wilde Brew for the first time.

How could I not?

She’d been behind the counter, laughing at something, and the sound had hit me like a physical force. She’d looked up, caught my eye, and smiled like she’d been waiting for me to walk in.

And the kicker? Walking toward that counter had felt a little like coming home.

But I couldn’t tell her that.

“You were walking around with a plate of cookie samples,” I said instead. It was from the same day, but it would be a lot less telling. “I think they were Halloween specials, and when you offered me some, you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Do I ever?”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, they were good, so don’t even play.”

“Your turn.”

She took a sip of wine as if mirroring my earlier stalling tactic, but then I flinched as she nearly spit it out, gasping like something funny had just occurred to her.

“You okay?” I asked with a low chuckle.

“I don’t know, because I just had a major realization, and now I’m spinning out a little.”

I waited.

She leaned in. “I was going to say that for me, it was probably when you caught that cup before it hit the ground.”

I swallowed hard.

I knew exactly where she was going with this, and even when it happened, I wondered if it would come back to bite me.

“I was carrying too many mugs—as I always do—and one slipped,” she continued. “You came out of nowhere and caught it before it shattered at my feet. Moving way too fast, by the way. I should’ve known right then what you really were.”

“And what am I?”

Her eyes danced, and her grin was pure trouble. “A superhero with a coffee addiction.”

“You’re a menace.”

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