I need to know how she feels about our next chapters.

And today’s her birthday. Valentine’s Day. The anniversary of the day her mom left her. And one year ago today, that day. She believes this day is cursed, and it’s my first opportunity to prove her wrong.

She leans over the kitchen table, notebook and supplies spread. Her long red hair is piled into a messy ponytail on her head. Coffee wafts in the air, and the warm glow of a desk lamp heightens the coffee-shop vibe. Hershey perches on the table, as if reading over her work. Sunkist swirls around her legs. The dogs sleep around the fireplace, Triscuit curled into Blackbeard’s belly.

Quietly, I slip behind her, melding myself to her soft curves and kissing her neck. She breathes in sharply before relaxing, and I can feel her smiling without seeing it.

“Good morning,” she says.

“I missed you in bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She twists in my arms, and her coffee lips melt against mine. Her arms dangle over my shoulders, pulling me closer. I don’t care how many times I see her smile or she holds me close, loving Marina Ann Strange will always be my absolute favorite thing.

“Happy birth⁠—”

Her hand covers my lips, holding them shut. Her forehead presses against mine. “Don’t say it,” she whispers. “Please, don’t say it.”

My brow cocks in a question. “Happy Val⁠—”

She presses harder, keeping my words in.

I gently tug her hand away. “The universe knows what day it is.”

“Yes, but let’s not remind her,” she whispers. “Please, Grady.”

I kiss her hand. “Happy just another day, then.”

She breathes out a relieved sigh. “Thanks, you too. No more talking about it.”

“I’ll make more coffee,” I say. “Here or outside.”

“Outside,” she says, returning to her work.

Over coffee on the back porch, she tells me about her newest client. She’s had a dozen since the G&G, and all have thrived under Marina’s consultancy. North Carolina Magazine called her “the angel of mom-and-pop businesses.” Now, she has a waitlist of potential clients across this half of North Carolina—she’s even raised her fees. Twice.

The projects she’s most excited about are the unusual ones. Soon, she’ll work on transforming The Curiosity Museum downtown—a rundown, campy place that she said gave her the creeps as soon as she walked inside. Marina calls it “her strangest case yet.” It’s a unique challenge, and the guy who inherited it is a history teacher and single dad, so she’s only charging half her usual fees. I love that she’s successful enough to be selective about her projects and the people she wants to help.

“How about I fix us breakfast,” I say once our coffees are empty and the conversation wanes. “And then, let’s play chess.”