He’d love this. He’d use it against me, not just with public digs and clever jokes, but privately, with those infuriatingly knowing looks.
“Let go,” I hissed under my breath, shaking his hand off my arm.
Grant’s head snapped toward me, our gazes locking. The last trace of his magic drained out of me, leaving me feeling hot,exposed, and angry.
Then his expression shuttered. He stepped back, slow and deliberate, as if putting distance between us had been his idea. His palm turned inward as he covered a yawn.
“They’ll be broken up in a week,” he drawled. “Who wants odds?”
Laughter rippled through the few agents who’d stopped to watch, and my stomach sank as our fragile truce dissolved.
It hadn’t been real, anyway. Grant had said it himself; he didn’t do deep. I might be fraying at the seams, doing everything I could to hold on to my faith in true love and magic. But at least I wasn’t shallow and emotionally clogged like him.
“Grant,” his grandfather scolded sharply. “Be professional and straighten your tie. You're a Delaney.”
The band chose that moment to go silent. His grandfather’s retort echoed off the pavilion beams like a record scratch. Every head turned. A banner unfurled from the ceiling, crackling in the silence, and a spotlight clicked on next to the microphone stand.
Perfect.It was showtime.
The board shifted uncomfortably, but I didn’t wait for the big announcement. Bending at the waist, I slipped out of my heels, then snatched up Grant’s discarded jacket and tossed it at him.
“Armor up for your promotion,” I ground out, striding past him toward the exit.
My feet sank into the cool sand as I left the pavilion. The sound of Grant’s grandfather taking up the microphone followed in my wake. It grew muffled the further I walked toward the beach, guided only by the moonlight and the few tiki torches planted in the sand.
My heart still hammered, the taste of humiliation sour on my tongue. And Grant? I didn’t know what was worse, the way my body craved another hit of his cold magic, or the way my brain wanted to grab a pitchfork and storm his hut at dawn.
Nobody ask my heart anything.It was a foolish organ that had dared, for a few measly seconds, to think our fake-it stunt was some secret language we could translate into something deeper. Something real.
I sucked in the salty air as if the sticky brine could seal all my cracks, but the exhale came too soon, followed by a laugh that seared my throat. What a disaster! No more games. Tomorrow, I had to find that waterfall before my magic failed completely. If that happened, I wouldn't just lose my shot at solving miracle cold cases, but my job at Sunbelt, too.
You'd find me standing on coffee shop corners, a sad ex-witch, shouting about the fall of love like I was ushering in the singles’ apocalypse.
“Valerie!”
Grant’s voice carried over the hiss of the tide. I ignored it and kept walking, letting the sand swallow my footsteps. He caught up to me in a few strides, keeping pace when I didn’t slow down. I shot him a look that could have forced a crab to scuttle into its shell.
“Go back inside. They’re announcing your promotion.”
“I saw my grandfather’s notes. His talking points will last half an hour.” Grant moved in front of me, forcing me to stop. “What was that back there?”
“Nothing—just the stark realization that playing nice in public wasn't worth it. Not when I owe you for that stuntyou pulled.”
“Youshouldowe me. I saved your job.” His jaw flexed. “Against my better judgment. You’ve been acting strange since you got here.”
“I have not. And I don’t need you to save me—from anything. Reserve your twisted hero complex for your one-and-done conquests.”
“Hero complex? I didn’t know you thought I had the drive. Have I almost joined the ranks of men who can meet your convoluted standards?”
I gritted my teeth. “You could rescue orphans from a snowstorm, and you’d still have a way to climb.”
Fire flashed in his eyes. “Such a lofty perch. Must be lonely up there by yourself.”
My throat tightened. That hit too close.
“I didn’t need your help. I was fine.”
“Admit it. Something is going on. You’re slipping. Your magic—”
