Page 68 of My Vigilante Valentine

“Why would you spend so much time at my shop if you have such a fancy coffee machine? And seriously, do you make bank as a vigilante? Am I totally in the wrong business?”

He turned away, completely ignoring my questions.

Bold strategy, Cotton. Let’s see if it pays off.

But then he swayed—just slightly, but enough to make me lunge like a game show contestant buzzing in for the final round. His balance wavered, but I was right there, grabbing his arm. “You should sit. Let me look at that wound.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, but the tightness around his eyes betrayed the pain he was trying to hide.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.” He squinted, looking me up and down as if checking for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Seriously? Not a scratch.” I gestured over my body, and then I crossed my arms. “Jax, you’re the one I’m worried about. Unless you have another superpower that you neglected to tell me about? Like rapid, magical healing, maybe?”

He pursed his lips, staying quiet.

I took that as a no.

“Jax.”

He sighed, gesturing weakly toward the bathroom as he leaned against his kitchen table. “First aid kit under the sink.”

I rushed to get the supplies.

Proud of myself for not lingering to snoop in his bathroom—or check my reflection in the mirror—I returned to the main room. But on my way back over to him, I stopped short, my stomach bottoming out.

The view out his window. It was…

Jax didn’t simply live in the building next to mine.

His apartmentfacedmy apartment.

Dead-on.

Clutching the first aid kit to my chest, I walked slowly to the window. Sure enough, I could see right into my living room. The lights were dim since I wasn’t home, but I knew that room. I saw it every day.

“That’s my apartment,” I said quietly, not turning around. “Did you know? That it’s, like… right there?”

The silence stretched for so long that I thought he might not answer.

Then, finally, “Yeah. I knew.”

I turned to face him then, and the vulnerability in his expression nearly knocked me over.

He was so unguarded, so much more raw than I’d ever seen him before.

“But not in a creepy way,” he added, holding up a hand as if he knew I was reeling. “And I lived here before I even knew you. I never... I didn’t spy on you. But once I figured out that was where you lived... I just… kept an eye out. Made sure you got home safe after closing up.”

My heart squeezed at the admission, a warm and fluttery feeling spreading through my chest.

The thought of him watching over me, even from afar? To say it made me feel safe would be the understatement of the century.

This was more like feeling…cherished.

I stepped closer, drawn to him like a magnet.

And then, reality returned. “Shoot, Jax, you’re still bleeding.”

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