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“Not with my spinal cord.”

Then I reached the final challenge. The Kiss That Counts. Couples had to recreate their first kiss. Singles had to find a couple willing to reenact theirs.

I quickly scrolled past it. Nope. Absolutely not. I was not going to kiss him and record it for posterity.

The moment we stepped into Main Street Eats, the aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon greeted us. The familiar red vinyl booths, warm lighting, and oldies playing from the jukebox made the diner feel like a step back in time. Framed photographs lined the walls, including several of Grace and Serge, the owners, in their younger days.

Our first scavenger hunt challenge was to get unconventional marriage advice, and who better to ask than a woman who'd been married for over forty years?

We found Grace behind the counter, pouring coffee for a regular.

“Well, aren't you two a sight,” she greeted us with a smile. “What can I get you?”

“Actually, we're hoping for some marriage advice,” I said, showing her our clue. “Something unconventional.”

Grace chuckled. “Honey, after forty years with Serge, I've got plenty. Here's my advice. Forget that nonsense about never going to bed angry. Sometimes a good night's sleep is the only thing keeping you out of prison.”

I laughed, and she leaned closer.

“And marry someone who can make you laugh when you want to strangle them.”

“That's why I'm still alive!” Serge hollered from the kitchen.

Grace rolled her eyes affectionately as she stepped out behind the counter to go and seat a family who walked in behind us. “Barely, old man. Barely.”

I glanced at Damon, expecting some smart-ass comment, but instead, I caught him watching me with that crooked smile of his. The one I was beginning to realize was entirely too dangerous.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” His grin widened. “Just wondering how often you'd want to strangle me if we were married.”

I shook my head. “I'm already fighting the urge, and we're only fake dating.”

He laughed, which caused me to laugh, and damn it, I loved that sound. Loved knowing I'd been the one to cause it.

“Well, at least I've got the making-you-laugh part covered.”

He wasn't wrong. And that was the problem.

Somewhere between his ridiculous teasing and the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention, he'd started slipping past defenses I'd spent years building. It was supposed to be harmless flirting. A little fun. Nothing that could leave a mark.

But standing there, watching Grace and Serge exchange the kind of effortless affection that came from forty years of choosing each other, I felt an unexpected ache in my chest.

I wanted that. The laughter. The inside jokes. Someone who knew all my flaws and stayed anyway.

And for one terrifying second, I wondered what it would be like to have that with Damon.

The thought scared me more than I cared to admit. Because wanting something was one thing. Letting myself believe I could actually have it was another. I'd learned the hard way that feelings didn't come with guarantees, and I wasn't sure I could survive being wrong about someone again.

I tore my gaze from his and glanced at our scavenger hunt list.

“Come on. We've got another clue to find.”

He fell into step beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as we headed for the door.

Such a small, innocent touch.

So why did it feel like I was already in trouble?