Page 87 of Begin Again

Trying for a joke I tilt my head. “Are you any good?”

He grins at me flashing a dimple I’ve never seen before. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“I’m just saying, if my car breaks down, I need to know if I should call you or a professional.”

He gasps, mock offended. “Wow. Okay. For that, if your car ever breaks down, I’m gonna charge you double.”

“Oh, so now you’re a mechanic for hire?”

“For you? Absolutely. Hope you like ridiculous labor fees.”

I grin, nudging him with my shoulder. He nudges me back, and for a moment, it feels like we’re just two people enjoying an afternoon walk—no murder, no secrets, no weight of the past pressing down on us.

Valkyrie suddenly launches to the side, shoving her nose into a pile of leaves before popping up with a new treasure in her mouth.

“Oh no,” I groan. “Valkyrie, drop it.”

She wags her tail.

Theo crosses his arms. “I think she likes her prize.”

“She thinks she’s a damn dragon hoarding treasure,” I mutter, stepping toward her. “Drop it, gremlin.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Valkyrie spits out the object—a shiny, dented bottle cap.

He bursts out laughing. “That’s her grand discovery?”

“She’s obsessed with them,” I admit, picking it up before she can reclaim it. “It’s like she thinks they’re rare artifacts.”

Theo wipes his eyes. “A detective dog with an eye for trash. I love her.”

Valkyrie barks, as if agreeing, then prances forward like she just did the most important job in the world.

I shake my head. “Are you laughing at my dog?”

“No,” Theo says, grinning. “I’m laughing at you.”

I scoff. “Rude.”

He nudges me again, softer this time. “It’s nice,” he says, voice quieter. “Being out here. With you.”

A warm feeling blooms in my chest. I glance at him, meeting his eyes. There’s no teasing in them now—just something steady, something real.

I swallow, suddenly feeling shy. “Yeah. It is.”

We walk in comfortable silence, the air crisp, the sky stretched wide above us. Valkyrie prances ahead, bottle cap forgotten, her tail wagging like she just won the lottery.

His hand brushes mine, a fleeting touch, but enough to send heat curling low in my stomach.

“So,” he says, glancing at me, “past relationships.”

I groan. “Oh, we’re doing this?”

He smirks. “We don’thaveto.”

I sigh, rolling my shoulders. “No, it’s fine. I just—” I pause, choosing my words. “Let’s just say my last relationship wasn’t great.”

Humming in acknowledgment, he waits for me to continue.

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