Page 155 of Every Chance After

Her hand covers my lips, holding them shut. Her forehead presses against mine. “Don’t say it,” she whispers. “Please, don’t say it.”

My brow cocks in a question. “Happy Val?—”

She presses harder, keeping my words in.

I gently tug her hand away. “The universe knows what day it is.”

“Yes, but let’s not remind her,” she whispers. “Please, Grady.”

I kiss her hand. “Happy just another day, then.”

She breathes out a relieved sigh. “Thanks, you too. No more talking about it.”

“I’ll make more coffee,” I say. “Here or outside.”

“Outside,” she says, returning to her work.

Over coffee on the back porch, she tells me about her newest client. She’s had a dozen since the G&G, and all have thrived under Marina’s consultancy.North Carolina Magazinecalled her “the angel of mom-and-pop businesses.” Now, she has a waitlist of potential clients across this half of North Carolina—she’s even raised her fees. Twice.

The projects she’s most excited about are the unusual ones. Soon, she’ll work on transforming The Curiosity Museum downtown—a rundown, campy place that she said gave her the creeps as soon as she walked inside. Marina calls it “her strangest case yet.” It’s a unique challenge, and the guy who inherited it is a history teacher and single dad, so she’s only charging half her usual fees. I love that she’s successful enough to be selective about her projects and the people she wants to help.

“How about I fix us breakfast,” I say once our coffees are empty and the conversation wanes. “And then, let’s play chess.”

She gives me a coy look, her red brow cocked on her freckled forehead. “Are you sure your ego can handle it?”

I laugh. I rarely win, and if I manage to pull it off, it’s only by distracting her. Not that I care about winning. Beneath that gorgeous red hair and disarming smile is a keen strategist. I only hope she never gets bored playing with me.

“How else will I get better?”

She giggles. “In that case, yes. I’ll make a fire.”

We enact our plan. The cabin is soon warm and cozy with the fireplace crackling and bacon smells in the air. We eat, then take our places around the game—cats and dogs curling up beside us.

Over our third round, I lock eyes with her across the board as she contemplates her next move. It’s the closest I’ve come to beating her, and I can tell she’s grown worried by the way she nibbles her lip.

“Today should be a celebration, Marina.”

“A celebration of how many times I beat you at chess?”

“You know what I mean.”

She sighs, annoyed. “I don’t want to talk about today. Quit distracting me.”

“Then, let’s talk hypotheticals.Ifwe celebrated, what do you worry might happen?”

“If,” she groans. “Anything could happen, Grady.”

“Have you ever had a good one?”

“A goodtoday? Um… a few when I was young.”

“What were they like?”

She leans back, folding her arms over her chest. “Mom took me to the North Carolina Zoo once. She gave me a cute pink button with BDAY GIRL written on it, so all day people said… well, you know. Another time, she gave me her grandmother’s quilt as a present.”

“The one on our bed?”

“Yep. I love that quilt.”

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