Page 20 of Bar Down

"Even on the defensive side of things?" she asked, attempting to lighten the moment despite the electricity running up her arm from his touch.

"Especially on defense." He held her gaze, leaning slightly closer. "Having someone watch your blind side is how you survive in this game."

The double meaning wasn't lost on her. Stephanie felt something shift inside her chest—a recalibration of how she viewed Marcus and what he might mean to her beyond their professional alliance. His face was just inches from hers now, close enough that she could see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes, close enough that the slightest movement forward would bring their lips together.

Dangerous territory.

Her phone buzzed again—another message from Reed. This time, Marcus definitely noticed her reaction. His hand tightened slightly on hers before releasing it, the loss of contact almost as jarring as the touch had been.

"Stephanie," he said, her first name sounding different in his voice, deeper, more significant somehow. "If someone is threatening you—"

"It's not that simple," she interrupted, gathering her notes abruptly, needing distance from the magnetic pull between them. "And we have more pressing concerns with this presentation."

Marcus didn't argue, but she could feel his concern like a tangible thing between them. He respected her boundaries—another quality she hadn't expected from him—but his eyes told her the conversation wasn't over.

"We've made good progress," he said instead, shutting down one of the monitors. "The data framework is solid. Your narrative overlay makes the case more compelling than numbers alone."

"See? We do make a good team." She aimed for a light tone, desperate to restore their professional equilibrium even as part of her mourned the lost moment.

"We do," he agreed, his voice quiet but certain. "Better than projected."

As she gathered her things to leave, Stephanie felt herself at a crossroads. The strategic alliance they'd formed to navigate the ownership transition had become something more complex—not quite friendship, definitely not just professional, but something that made her skin tingle and her heart race in ways she couldn't afford.

And now Reed was back, threatening everything she'd rebuilt. If he had Darby's ear, her position was precarious at best. Having Marcus as an ally was valuable professionally—but if Reed targeted him too, as he inevitably would once he realized they were working together...

"Stephanie," he said, reaching out to touch her arm just above her wrist. His fingers traced a light pattern against her skin, sending a shiver through her body. The use of her first name stopped her at the threshold. "Whatever you're facing—you have backup now. Whether you want it or not."

The simple declaration hung in the air between them. Not a question, not a plea for confidence, but a statement of fact—delivered with the same certainty he brought to his analytics. His body was close enough that she could feel his warmth, smell the clean scent of his skin. For one wild moment, she imagined closing that final distance between them, pressing her body against his, discovering if his mouth tasted as good as it looked.

"Goodnight, Marcus," she said softly, unable to trust herself with more.

As she walked to her car, Stephanie's mind raced with contradictory imperatives. Professional survival demanded distance—Reed had destroyed everyone who'd allied with her in Boston. But something deeper, something she'd denied herself for three years, craved the connection that was unexpectedly forming with Marcus. Not just his mind, but his body, his hands, his mouth.

Her phone buzzed a third time.

Reed: Playing hard to get again? We both know how that ended last time. Be smart, Stephanie. Some power dynamics never change.

She deleted the message, hand shaking with a combination of fear and fury. In her rearview mirror, she could see Marcus still standing in his doorway, watching to ensure she reached her car safely.

The contrast between the two men couldn't have been more stark.

Reed had once told her that everyone was predictable if you had enough data points—that her resistance was just another variable he could manipulate. He'd nearly destroyed her with that cold certainty.

But Marcus, with his careful observations and unexpected tenderness, saw patterns to understand, not to control. His touch had been an offer, not a demand. His concern genuine, not calculating.

And that, Stephanie realized as she drove away, was what made him dangerous in an entirely different way.

Because for the first time in three years, she was considering letting someone past her defenses. Someone who might actually be worthy of the trust she'd sworn never to extend again.

The question was whether she could afford the risk—professionally or personally. And why, despite all her carefully constructed walls, she couldn't stop thinking about how close his lips had been to hers, and what might have happened if she'd been brave enough to find out.

***

MARCUS

Marcus arrived at Chesapeake Coffee early enough to claim the ideal table—corner booth, good sightlines, minimal foot traffic—but not so early as to seem desperate.

He'd barely slept, his mind stuck on replay of last night. Stephanie's reaction to those texts. The way her whole body had tensed up. How she'd bolted despite the chemistry building between them. He'd run the tape on each reaction from multiple angles, but still couldn't read the play developing between them.

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