Chapter 12

Hailey’s directions to the lakeside running path had come in the form of a picture message, complete with a hand drawing of where to park and the big rock where she could cut through the property of summer people who were gone for the season and didn’t mind the locals borrowing the edge of their property.

At six A.M., dressed in a long-sleeve white running top, black leggings, and her favorite running shoes (special-ordered in neon orange, although she always changed up the color when she got a new pair), Jordan followed Hailey’s instructions, careful to stay in the wooded section and not trounce on the neatly maintained lawns.

The second the lake came into view, Jordan inhaled in delight. The scenery was breathtaking, and not just from the perspective of a Manhattanite starved for a whiff of nature.

The morning was cold, crisp, and cloudless, the water deep blue and clear. The lake wasn’t particularly large, but the houses surrounding it were far enough from its edge to give the illusion of pristine perfection, as though you could run forever with nothing but the trees for company.

Rolling her eyes at her own whimsy, Jordan made her way forward until the path Hailey had mentioned became clear. Not a path precisely, but it was obvious that hers wouldn’t be the only running shoes to wind their way around the water.

She started off at an easy jog, smiling at how good the cool air felt in her lungs. Unsurprisingly, the air felt fresher here than it did in New York. A nearly forgotten memory assailed her—of her high school days, when she’d run with her cross-country team across wide-open spaces. There wasn’t a lake in Keaton, but there were fields and wooded areas. There were no taxis to dodge, no strollers to wind around, no hotheaded businesspeople screaming into their cellphones.

Jordan slowly picked up her pace, moving from a warm-up jog to a steady run, twigs and freshly fallen leaves crunching beneath her shoes.

She ran past plenty of homes. They were all elevated, probably to better enjoy the view. She didn’t look too closely, not wanting to invade the privacy of anyone enjoying the solitude of a morning cup of coffee, but she found it a pleasant surprise that most of the homes were modest.

Well maintained, but cozy instead of ostentatious. More cabin style than mansion.

She ran by a dozen houses, then two dozen, not seeing a single soul besides the birds.

She’d been running a good twenty minutes or so before she saw another person. A fellow runner, several feet in front of her.

A man, judging by the height and shoulders, dressed in loose gray running pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. A gray beanie was pulled low, covering his hair.

He had good form, she noted. Good speed too. Definitely not a beginning runner.

She picked up her own speed, just a little, but he didn’t turn around. Probably wearing headphones. She never did when running outside, because of the whole dangers of a woman running alone, but she supposed it was different for men. One of life’s petty little injustices, that women couldn’t listen to early Madonna while jogging on a secluded path.

Jordan jogged behind the man for a couple of minutes, matching her pace to his, assessing.

He was in great shape, but so was she. And it had been a long time since she’d had a chance to indulge in her competitive side.

She slowly increased her speed, fully intending to overtake him, just for the thrill of passing. If she got really lucky, maybe he’d engage, give her the thrill of a race.

Jordan’s shoes moved faster as she gained on her unsuspecting mystery rival.

She was a few feet behind him when he finally heard or sensed her presence, his head whipping around.

As expected, white earbuds were tucked under the cap, but that was where the expected ended and the shock began.

A familiar hazel gaze locked on hers, widening in surprise before narrowing in suspicion.

Her mystery runner was none other than Luke Elliott.

Of course it was.

Jordan gave a quick roll of her eyes, as though to say, Calm down, I’m not freaking following you.

And then she kicked it into high gear, racing by him without a single word.

She kept her ears tuned for the telltale sound of footsteps gaining on her. At first there was nothing, and she stifled the surge of disappointment that his determination to avoid her even extended to this.

Then she felt the air change, heard his footsteps, heavier than hers but just as fast. No. Faster.

Before she could register what was happening, Luke breezed by her without so much as a glance her way.

Only when he’d passed her did she give in to the grin. Game on.

She let him open a lead on her, just for a second, lulling him into complacency, hoping he’d burn up his energy before he learned what she was made of.

Then she picked up her speed, relishing the way her body thrummed, her blood pumping, breath coming just a bit quicker as she exerted herself to pass him.

The look of surprise on his face as she pulled even was worth the strain of her underused muscles, the slight burn in her lungs. Jordan was fast, but it had been years since she’d gone all out, and Luke, being a man in excellent shape, was a more-than-worthy opponent.

Luke increased his speed to match hers, and for several minutes they ran nearly neck and neck, each pulling ahead for short periods of time, only to have the other draw even.

Her muscles started to scream and she felt a surge of irritation. She really hadn’t planned on losing.

But just when she would have slowed to a jog, conceded his victory, he tugged his earbuds free and bunched the cord in his hand even as he kept up the near-sprint. “To the fence post?”

His words came around harsh pants, revealing that she wasn’t the only one straining, and it was precisely the encouragement she needed to push through.

“You’re on,” she managed.

Jordan put every ounce of her training, every bit of her competitive spirit (and, okay, maybe a little lingering anger about Luke’s cruel words at the bar), into those last several feet.

She ran all in, body and soul.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stay even with her, not falling behind but not pulling ahead either.

Four feet. Three feet. Two…

The fence-post finish line passed in a blur out of the corner of her left eye, and she gradually let her body ease up, allowing straining muscles to slow to an easy run, then a jog, then finally a walk.

Hands on hips, she caught her breath and turned to face her opponent.

Luke had stopped a while back, hands on knees as he sucked in big gulps of air, eyes locked on the ground between his feet.

She started to walk back toward him, and when he lifted his face, she felt his grin like a punch in the gut—it was the first real smile she’d seen from him. At least the first directed at her.

It made her feel warm in a million ways that had nothing to do with the fact that she’d just run her heart out like she hadn’t in years.

He slowly straightened. “Gotta say, City. Think that’s the first time a woman’s ever given me a run for my money. You didn’t let up, not even once.”

“Neither did you,” she said. “You’re in good shape.”

He gave her a once-over. “I’m in great shape, and you still beat me by a half step.”

She grinned, pleased by the acknowledgment of her victory, even though she wasn’t at all sure who’d passed the fence post first. “I ran cross-country in high school. Got a scholarship to college.”

They’d thought she’d have a shot at the Olympic team, but she didn’t say that. She’d missed the cutoff, just barely, and though she tried not to have regrets, the disappointment still stung a bit.

He nodded in understanding, and there were several moments of silence with only the sounds of the cheerful birds and their own uneven breathing.

Jordan lifted a hand to push a sweaty strand of hair back behind her ear. “You come here to run often?”

“Every day. I live on the lake.” He flinched as though realizing he’d just given the enemy way too much information.

“It’s lovely here,” she said, hoping to ease his worries.

He shrugged.

Jordan gave in to the urge to roll her eyes at the blatant dismissal. “Well. I’m sorry for ruining your solitude. See you around.”

She started to pass him, fully intending on a long, slow jog back to stretch her muscles and ease her temper, but he caught her arm as she went by, drawing her to a halt.

Luke frowned, looking surprised. “You’re shorter than I realized.”

“Haven’t yet figured out how to run in my stilettos,” she said, easing her arm out of his grip. “Oh, wait. We vultures fly, right? Not run?”

He had the decency to wince.

“Jordan,” he said sharply, when she was about to start running again.

“What?” Her voice was a little testy, and a smile flickered across his face, as though pleased by her reaction.

“I live a couple miles back,” he said, nodding his head toward the way they’d come.

“Congratulations.”

Another smile, a little less reluctant this time. “How about I make you a cup of coffee.”

She narrowed her eyes and said nothing.

“Be good, and I can throw in a glass of water.”

Jordan pursed her lips. His easy smile was unexpectedly charming. Or perhaps not so much unexpected as inconvenient.

This would be so much easier for both of them if they could simply be at odds—him the aggrieved victim, her the ambitious…vulture.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Don’t have to be in until noon today.”

She itched her nose, tried to think of another evasion. “I’m all sweaty.”

Luke smiled and held his arms to the side. “Same.”

“Look, Luke—”

“Think about it,” he said, interrupting her. “You’ve got a couple miles to figure it out.”

Without another word, he took off.

Jordan had the childish urge to throw a stick at him, just for being so…complicated.

One day he was making it clear he couldn’t stand her very existence; the next he was inviting her over for a cup of coffee.

An offer she very much wanted to accept, which had nothing to do with Jilted.

She’d say no. Jordan was already dangerously close to having a conflict of interest where he was concerned. Best to call her boss, see if they couldn’t sweeten the deal on why he should accept the offer…

She tightened her ponytail and started off after him. His pace was slow and steady, an obvious cooldown jog, and once she caught up, she matched his pace to run several feet behind him.

There was something a little too intimate about running side by side with another person.

He apparently disagreed, because he stopped abruptly to allow her to catch up, resuming his jog only when they were shoulder to shoulder.

Yup. Intimate.

But not unpleasant. Not at all. It had been a long time since she’d run with another person, and she’d forgotten the pleasant camaraderie of it. The sound of their breath, the thump of their footsteps falling alongside yours. The comfort of another person who understood that running could be magic and not just hideous exercise.

It was over far too soon for her liking.

Without warning, Luke peeled off to the left, jogging up a slight incline toward a house—his house, she realized.

Jordan ordered her feet to keep running, but instead she stopped, watched as he made his way toward the back door.

The home was bigger than she’d expected, and newer. Not fancy, but modern and inviting, with plenty of windows facing the water, and a large deck that begged for sipping rosé on a warm summer evening.

Her feet began moving again, but not in the direction she’d intended. Before she could fully grasp the implications of what she was doing, Jordan followed Luke.