“Duly noted,” Blake says. “But they wouldn’t find me much of a meal. Not enough brains.”

“I highly doubt that. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you . . . and warn you . . . and try to scare you off . . . oh yeah, and warn you.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and then Blake speaks again, his voice low and intent. “I’m still willing to take my chances with you, Miss Walker.”

I smile at his persistence. “Well, I’m still not willing to go out on a date with you, Mr. Hale.”

I’m getting weaker by the second but fighting to be strong, for both our sakes. His, because if he possesses zero survival instinct or self-preservation, I’ll find it inside myself for him.

And me?

I don’t know if I can handle another loss, another reminder that I’m meant to be alone.

“We’ll see. But I really should go, I guess. My alarm goes off at five for another run. I’m hoping my five-mile time will better tomorrow because you had me tied up in knots today.”

The accusation gives me all sorts of naughty ideas about knots, mainly ones where I’m folded into one with my knees by my ears.

“Good night, Blake.” I give him his name easily this time after all we’ve shared.

“Good night, Zo,” he says, and I can hear it in his voice. He heard that use of his name. “Sleep well.”

Chapter 9

Blake

“Blake Hale, how can I help you today?” Recognizing the corporate home office number, I answer my phone in my most professional voice, fixing a smile on my face just to be safe. They say you can hear a smile in someone’s voice, after all.

“Hey, Blake, it’s Frederick. How’re you?”

Frederick is the vice-president over claims for the Everlife company and a guy I only speak with occasionally.

He’s nice enough, but there’s something about him that makes me envision a fat cat in a pinstriped suit checking a gold pocket watch when we talk. And I suspect that if you don’t dance to his tune, that niceness goes away very quickly.

“Good. How’re you? The wife and kids?” Small talk, an evil necessity. Honestly, at least two-thirds of my business is exactly that.

But Frederick is used to it and cuts through it quickly. “They’re fine. Look, I’m calling about a pain in my ass that I’m hoping you can help with.”

I don’t suggest that he should probably see a proctologist for that and should definitely not be oversharing with his agents this way, but I think it really hard, hoping he’ll get the message.

“Uh, okay?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, not wanting to hear this.