My Vigilante Valentine

Chapter 10

10

basically invincible

The morning after the mission felt like waking up after binge-watching an entire season of a crime show—brain buzzing, heart still racing, and zero regrets.

Wilde Brew was in that sweet spot between morning rush and mid-morning lull, the steady hum of coffee grinders blending with the lofi playlist I’d queued up to help the students with their studying.

Wednesday slung coffee and manned the register while I restocked the bakery case, working together with a natural, well-honed flow. We always found something to laugh about—like the weirdly specific customer requests that only food service people understood.

Owning a coffee shop wasn’t only about creating a great atmosphere for the patrons, and I liked to think I fostered a pretty great one with my employees, too.

They always had my back, and I had theirs. Teamwork, baby. Which was yet another reason Jax needed to stop pretending he was a lone wolf and accept the fact that we were a team now.

He’d been on my mind a lot since he’d dropped me off last night. Shocking, I know. But I’d spent a fair amount of my morning cycling through every detail from the night before.

I couldn’t help it. My brain had hit the “shuffle and repeat” button, and I was powerless against its will.

The alley and the dumpster phone.

Jax pulling me into the shadows, his breath warm against my face.

His hand wrapped around my wrist like I was made of glass, even as he pinned me to the wall like I wasn’t breakable at all.

Shiver.

Looking up, my gaze zipped to where he sat at his usual table, spending his daylight hours hard at work on his laptop like the tech-savvy vigilante he was.

Was he looking for another way to find the Valentine Villain?

He’d told me when he arrived this morning that he hadn’t been able to find anything useful on the dumpster phone, so he must be digging into the virtual streets of Slate Harbor for another way.

And he needed to hurry, too. Dots were connecting around the city—dots that suggested being in love was deadly right now.

I hated that creepy monster for being so hard to catch, and that couples all around my shop were nervous to show any kind of PDA lest the madman added them to his list of future victims.

If I had a boyfriend, I would?—

Wait.

The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning, and my entire body hummed with the brilliance of my own strategic mind.

Okay, granted, for every genius idea I had, there was a moment where I lost my shoes or acted like laundry was a boss fight.

But still.

When I was good? I was really good.

So, without pausing to think anything through before approaching Jax with my amazing idea, I grabbed a plate of freshly baked Valentine’s Day cookies and made a beeline right for him.

“Feeling snacky?” I asked, sliding into the seat across from him like I owned the place.

As I should, considering that I did.

Jax glanced up, his dark eyes traveling from the cookies to me, his expression unreadable. Then, deadpan: “You do realize you’re the reason I have to work out three times a day instead of just twice.”

I blinked. Twice?

So, that explained why it was impossible to miss the hard ridges of his abs when he’d had me trapped in that alley.

And then, to my horror, many ill-advised words happened. Like drunk ducklings in a row. “You won’t hear me complaining. Work those muscles all you want. Not that I’ve seen your muscles or anything. You always wear the hoodie. But I’ve felt — Um, never mind, I’ve just noticed them. I mean, obviously, I’ve noticed a lot of things, because I have eyes. But not in a creepy way. More like an observational way. Which also sounds creepy, but you like my observational— Okay, I’m gonna stop now.”

I wanted to delete myself from existence.

Jax didn’t say anything. He just sat there, watching me spiral, the faintest curve of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

It was the kind of almost-smile that felt like winning the lottery when you hadn’t even bought a scratcher.

I cleared my throat, grabbing a cookie to shove into my mouth, because as tolerant as he was just now, chewing would be safer than talking.

His eyes tracked the movement, and the air between us grew charged.

I was halfway through demolishing a cookie—because nothing says damage control like stuffing your face—when it hit me.

“Wait!” I blurted, crumbs flying. “That’s not why I sat down.”

Jax arched one of his perfectly judgmental eyebrows. “The cookies or the muscle talk?”

“Neither.” I waved my hands dramatically, nearly smacking the plate of cookies. “I have a brilliant idea.”

He leaned back as if bracing for impact. “Does it involve heart-shaped sprinkles?”

“No. Well, maybe . But not in a bad way.”

He gave me a look. Part of it suggested heart-shaped sprinkles were always a bad idea, but the rest of it was just intrigued enough that it encouraged me to keep going.

“Okay, so, this is a two-part plan. First, you couldn’t get anything off the phone, right?” I asked, lowering my voice. He nodded once, so I pressed on. “What if we looped Chris in? He’s a tech wizard. If Harry Potter had a laptop instead of a wand, he’d be Chris.”

Jax didn’t even blink. “You want me to loop in the Harry Potter of hacking even though I don’t even know the guy?”

It was true. Case in point: he’d mistaken my cousin for a guy who liked me.

And since trust was hard-earned with Jax, I’d have to make my case while being sensitve to that.

“I still haven’t told him anything, but he’s a white hat hacker. Trust me, you can trust him. He has more secrets than the CIA—without the whistleblower problem.”

Jax’s jaw tensed, and then he shrugged one very large shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”

“Last time you said that, I got my way,” I pointed out with a wry smile.

His mouth twitched like he was fighting one of his own, and spoiler alert: he was losing that battle.

I leaned back, mentally drafting the text I’d send Chris. Unless it shouldn’t be in writing? Yeah. Better safe than sorry. We’d have to discuss this face-to-face.

Jax rubbed the back of his neck, and something told me he was two seconds from losing his patience with this interruption of his virtual street prowling. Then he leveled me with that broody stare—the one designed to make people back off.

Unfortunately for him, I was not people.

“You said you had a two-part plan,” he warily reminded me. “What was the second part?”

I clapped my hands together, sitting up straighter as I dropped my voice to a near-whisper. “Right. Here it is: we pretend to be a couple. Act like bait for The Valentine Villain. Then… boom , when he tries to attack us, you do your thing. Easy peasy.”

Silence .

Followed by an even more pronounced silence, which felt like an achievement. I didn’t realize there was a step below what he was already doing, but I felt it in the air as he stared at me like I’d just suggested we infiltrate the criminal underworld dressed as giant avocados.

I started to get nervous as he continued to stare.

Unmoving. Unblinking.

Like his entire system had gone into full reboot mode.

Then, without warning, he shoved back from the table. “Absolutely not.”

I wrinkled my nose as I blinked up at him. “Is that a hard no or a soft no?”

He didn’t answer, just jerked his head toward the back room and stalked off, leaving me to scramble after him like I had any choice in the matter.

The tension in his shoulders was clear as day as I followed him down the hallway, and the way his fists were clenched at his sides suggested he was trying to hold onto his last shred of sanity.

Which, if I had to guess, was my fault.

And honestly? I was fine with it.

He could definitely stand to loosen up a little.

The back room of Wilde Brew was nowhere near as cute as the front of house. Boxes of coffee beans were stacked against the walls, and there was only enough room for supplies of various kinds and the desk where I did all of my adult-business-owner things.

Still, Jax stalked in like it was a fully functioning interrogation room, and the mood he emptied into the small space had me feeling like I’d just been arrested for murder.

Ironic, considering who he was.

“You can’t seriously think using yourself as bait for a killer is a good idea,” he bit out, closing the door and turning to face me with eyes full of fire.

I crossed my arms and squared up with him.

Sure, he was tall and intimidating, but I was a stubborn, millennial, small-business owner with a caffeine addiction—basically invincible.

“You’re not the only one who cares about the people in this city,” I shot back. “Unless someone steps up, every lovey-dovey couple in Slate Harbor stays a target.”

“I am stepping up,” he ground out.

“Then let me help you.”

Everything about Jax went rigid, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Was it fear? Frustration?

Maybe both.

But he shook his head, and his answer was firm and final. “ No .”

The single word hit me like an anvil, solid and crushing. I stared at him, wheels turning because I wasn’t ready to let this plan go.

Then, I blurted, “Fine. What if Chris and I pretended to date?”

His grimace was immediate, like I’d just suggested we lick a subway pole. In fact, I was pretty sure he’d actually shuddered.

Or was that me?

“Yeah, okay, that would be weird,” I admitted, trying not to laugh. “Forget I said that. I’d hold his hand, but I draw the line at staring lovingly into his eyes.”

Jax rubbed his jaw again, exhaling raggedly.

But I hadn’t missed it—the way he’d twitched at the mention of me dating Chris. Not jealousy. Just… territorial confusion, maybe?

Or maybe, it had nothing to do with Chris. Maybe it was that if anyone was going to fake date me and get to witness my loving looks, he wanted it to be him?

Hah. Get it together, Luna. This is why we don’t make up stories in our head. Back to reality.

Jax paced the small storage room, his footsteps muffled by the old, scuffed linoleum. The tension radiating off him burned intensely enough to steep a cup of tea—strong, bitter, and probably not great for my health.

“Listen, I know dating—fake or otherwise—isn’t at the top of your to-do list, but you have to admit the plan has merit.”

“The plan is reckless ,” he growled, turning sharply to face me, eyes dark and stormy.

I held out my arms, refusing to back down. “It doesn’t seem any riskier than the stuff you do to catch the bad guys around here.”

For a long beat, he said nothing.

Then, quieter, almost like it cost him something to admit, he muttered, “It’s not the same. I have… advantages.”

My curiosity ignited faster than a match in a fireworks factory.

Was he finally going to tell me how he moved as fast as he did? Why he was so strong, or how he could dodge a hit like his reflexes were of the superhuman variety?

“Like what?” I asked, straining to keep my voice calm.

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

And then, finally, he leaned against the wall of coffee bean boxes.

I held my breath as he crossed his arms, taking it for the cue that it was:

Jax Thorne planned to open up, and unless I wanted him to clam up instead, I better not make a big deal about it.

Message received.