Page 14 of Huck Frasier

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I couldn’t breathe.

So I did what I always did.

I smiled.

Covered the cracks.

And said, “Sure. Let’s get lunch.”

Even if I had no idea what I’d do when this stopped being just a rematch…

And started becoming something I might not want to run from.

9

Marley

The café was all wood and windows and homemade pie.

I stared at Frasier across the tiny table while pretending the inside of my stomach wasn’t having a full-on identity crisis.

He stirred his coffee slowly, that infuriating smirk still lingering like he knew he had the upper hand.

“So,” he said. “What do you do for a living, Marley Blake?”

“You already know what I do.”

“Let’s pretend I don’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “I dig up corruption and try not to die while doing it.”

He nodded like that was a normal answer. “Why?”

“Because someone has to. And because I’m good at it.”

“You’re also good at leaving.”

I stiffened.

The waitress arrived before I could clap back, dropping off two BLTs and fries. I picked up a fry and threw it at his chest. “That’s not fair.”

He caught it mid-air. Ate it. “It’s true.”

I stared at him, torn between admiration and the desire to stab him with a fork.

“This isn’t a date,” I said quietly.

He leaned forward. “Then why do you look like you’re trying not to fall in love with me?”

I nearly dropped my sandwich.

And just like that, my walls cracked again.

Because Iwastrying.

Trying not to fall. Trying not to feel. Trying not to want something that looked suspiciously like forever when I’d spent my whole life building escape plans.

But Frasier…

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