Chapter Nine

The next morning, I get up at my normal time, change into my running shirt and leggings, and pull my hair into a tight ponytail. After fifteen minutes of good stretching and warmup, I start running. The early morning is still dark in February, the air frigid. My breath fogs as I pick up the pace. After a minute or so, my muscles start to get into the rhythm, my blood pumping.

I love this hour, when I get to be alone and think. It gives me a kind of clarity that nothing else can.

Instead of going to sleep like an intelligent person, I stayed up late stalking David’s social media profiles. Too many pictures of that damned woman in red…purple…whatever. The latest photos show her in magenta.

Bitch.

And unless I’m mistaken, there’s a shot of them at a departure gate in SFO. Does this mean that Rebound Tamiflu’s coming to Virginia with him?

Tagging along is serious. Surely it’s beyond the boundaries of acceptable rebounding.

But there’s a teeny silver lining. Tim wants me to work on the func and tech specs for David, and David wants to have a meeting after lunch so we can get started right away. Tim’s deadline is firm: two weeks, no more.

Not much time, but I can work within it to make David realize my existence as a woman, not as a coworker or Jan’s housemate-slash-best-friend.

I’ve waited over four years. A couple more weeks is nothing if it will mean the difference between a happy moment and a happy ending. I want an ending, the kind of grand finale that makes you go wow, with David convincing me he’s not only the love of my life but a worthy partner for all eternity.

And unlike a movie, our grand finale will go on and on and on and on…

But do I really want to spend the full two weeks on the specs? Just because Tim gave me that much time, it doesn’t mean he expects me to take that long with the boring task.

I know our app inside and out, and what David asked for isn’t that complicated. We have a small team ready to start as soon as the specs are finished, and the new sandbox is going to be available on Monday for fooling around and seeing how the new upgrades behave. Based on the feature request sheet, I’m confident I can pull the specs together in a single week.

But then that will mean only one week with David…

Career, or David? Impressing Tim, or spending more time with David…?

Why must the choices be so difficult?

After about five minutes, I decide on impressing Tim. After all, getting my shit together has always been my motto. Even though he gave me two weeks, Tim won’t understand why I actually need to take so long unless David expands the scope to something ridiculous, in which case I’ll put an immediate stop to his madness. Besides, one week is enough to have David notice me…as long as I have a solid plan going in—

“Hey.”

Oh please God no. I must be hallucinating.

A quick glance to my right, and I almost falter. It’s Luke, looking disgustingly fit and alert in a black Nike running outfit. An overnight growth of beard covers his strong jaw, and it only serves to make his lips appear…more intriguing somehow. Like—

Stop. Don’t even go there.

The weird thoughts I had on the flight were more than enough. And I’m not even drunk at the moment. There’s no way to justify my mind wandering in that particular direction.

“What are you doing here?” I mean it to be hostile, but it comes out slightly breathless. I blame the exercise. It’s hard to be hostile when your system’s pumping endorphins through your body.

“Eh, you know. I was in the neighborhood,” Luke says, keeping up easily.

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Although I’m not friendly with everyone in the subdivision, I know who’s who, almost household by household, because I’m awesome like that.

Okay, fine—I hacked into the HOA database when I was bored one night and curious to see if we had any weirdos in our neighborhood after ThaMaNDo—That Man Next Door—moved in and started dancing around in his living room…in the nude. I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anyone worse than a hairy naked dude. I mean, I have standards.

“I do now.” Luke grins. “Got myself an Airbnb.”

“I’m sure that’s illegal.” I swear our HOA regulations forbid short-term rentals. If they don’t, they should. Starting now.

“Hey, I paid good money.”

Damn you, unnecessary online commerce. I’m checking with the HOA as soon as I’m finished here. “That’s great.” I glance at my watch. Fifty-two minutes to go. “Gotta run.”

“Is that supposed to be funny? You are running. I’ll run with you.”

“For another”—I check the watch again—“fifty-one minutes?”

“Sure, if you want.”

“I’m not slowing down for you.” I’ve never done that for anybody.

He gives me a look. “I’ll try to keep up.”

I smirk. Let’s see how long that lasts. He looks good in his Nike stuff, but clothes don’t make the athlete. I’ve been running every morning since I was in high school. The only thing that stops me is really horrific weather—like, life-threateningly horrific—and I can go for an hour with no problem. Most people can keep up for a few minutes…until their lungs start to burn. I’m doing an easy day today because I went high intensity yesterday. But if necessary, I can go high intensity again.

After about ten minutes, I realize my easy pace is totally doable for Luke. He isn’t even breathing that hard. The only sign of exertion is that he’s sweating a bit, sort of like me. I turn away and make a face.

“Saw that,” Luke says.

I paste on a smile so sweet it practically drips honey. “Saw what?”

“That wince.” His gaze sweeps over me as though he’s actually concerned.

But that’s ridiculous. Evil does not look at Good with concern.

“If you’re tired, we can go slower,” he says as though he’s doing me a huge favor.

“Ha!”

Go slower indeed. I speed up instead. I’ll make sure he cries uncle before the thirty…er—I glance at my watch—thirty-nine-minute run is over.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke says suddenly after about five more minutes. He doesn’t sound particularly winded. That really annoys me, because he should sound like he’s about to collapse, then beg me to slow down so I can laugh in his face and leave him in the frigid dust.

I keep my gaze straight ahead and pound the trail, readying my most definite “no.” It’s obvious he’s about to ask me out. Why else would he be keeping up? Which, okay, is sort of impressive, because he should’ve dropped dead ten minutes ago.

“Why David?” he says.

What? I swallow my cutting rejection and regroup. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I’m genuinely curious.”

I sigh, then speed up some more. It’s not even worth a response.

Much to my disgust, Luke again matches my pace. “Come on, raven girl. Don’t be antisocial.”

Of all the things I’ve been accused of in my time, being antisocial isn’t one of ’em. Since he isn’t showing any signs of suffering, I say, “Caw caw.”

He laughs. “What’s that?”

“A raven’s response. Now why don’t you jog on home and figure it out.”

“No need. I think your caw caw means you consider David a spineless idiot, easy to control and deal with.”

“I think you need a new Raven-English dictionary.”

He pulls out his phone and pretends to check something. “Sorry. Can’t find one on Amazon.”

“Why don’t you go home and search some other online bookstores for it?”

“Well, I would, but… I haven’t finished my run yet.”

Did he just claim this as his? “Excuse me, but this is my run! My peaceful time!” I say, unable to help myself. “You’re an…unwelcome gnat that’s decided to tag along!” That should be sufficient. I probably should’ve called him something worse than a gnat, but he seems to know people at Sweet Darlings. And unlike him, I care about my career and reputation, since I have no desire to be a “freelance nomad” anytime soon.

He gives me a sweet smile, which I trust about as much as a Voldemort promise. “Take pity on non-raven-speaking me. Explain it to me like I’m five…preferably in English.”

Guess he isn’t going to acknowledge the gnat comment. I should ignore him in return. With anybody else, I would. He’s still giving me that sweet smile, but he keeps up despite my actually fast pace now. He’s not going to give up.

Persistence. You have to have it to achieve anything worthwhile. And I admire it. Just not in him, because he’s using it against me. I don’t go from no to yes—or vice versa—unless I’m presented with new, concrete evidence. And Luke keeping up with me? All that means is he’s fit.

And he shows no sign of slowing down anytime soon, which tells me he’s in too good a shape to shake loose.

Bet he can keep up with you all night long.

The sudden and unwelcome thought almost makes me stumble. Ugh, shut up, mind. I could’ve twisted an ankle!

What I need is some solitary peace and quiet. I’ll give this stubborn mule something to chew on. “He’s loyal, faithful, smart, well-bred, and well-mannered.”

A moment of silence follows. My answer was probably too profound for him to process, especially when the blood flow is split two ways—muscles to move his body and brain to turn the gears in his head. Absurdly pleased, I slow down just a tad. It’s easier to celebrate my victory if I’m not running too hard. And today’s supposed to be my easy day anyway.

Then he starts laughing, and I finally just give up on the run. Whatever peace I wanted is gone, and I know it’s fruitless to continue with ThAssIMWa butting in. I come to a stop and, hands on my hips, turn my entire body in Luke’s direction. He’s laughing so hard he’s literally doubled over, one hand clutching his belly. I scowl. What I said could in no way shape or form be interpreted as a joke.

“What the hell is so funny?” I demand when he keeps laughing.

He wipes tears from his eyes. “Your answer,” he gasps. “I said David, not a dog.”

I process the words, then gasp. “What!”

“Loyal? Faithful?” His laughter grows. “Why don’t you add ‘rolls over on command’?”

I stiffen. Of all the ridiculous…! “Maybe someone like you doesn’t get it, but those qualities are important to me. If I can’t find a man who has them all, I’d rather just own a dog.” And I’m serious, too. Life’s too short to waste on worthless men.

Luke studies me, his hilarity slowly dying. “You mean it.”

“Obviously. Why would I want to be with a guy who’s not even on par with a dog?”

“Maybe because he can do things that loyal, faithful canines can’t to change your mind?”

“Like what?”

Luke gets a particular glint in his eye, then takes a step forward.

Since I’d rather sprain an ankle than back down, I remain rooted to the spot. Besides, I know how this game is played. I have three older brothers. Guys always get blustery and invade your personal space, like that’s going to be enough to cow the woman they’re dealing with.

Well, welcome to the twenty-first century, founding member of Club Caveman. This girl don’t budge.

A small smile quirks a corner of his mouth, then one chilled forefinger lifts my chin, and he slants his head. Before I can figure out what’s happening—or what to do—his lips fit over mine. Unlike the cold of his finger, his mouth is hot…and as soft as I imagined on the flight. But that’s not all.

His lips are also firm and controlled, and his mouth tugs at my upper lip. Every tug sends sparks of excitement along my back, and when he sucks on it, I feel like my muscles are turning into warm honey, one fiber at a time. He lavishes the same attention to my lower lip, and I dig my fingers into his hard biceps for balance.

The air shudders out of my lungs, and I breathe in his scent—clean, with a hint of sweat from the exertion. It’s unfairly sexy. I always like men who use their bodies for something more than sitting on their asses all day. And from the way Luke feels, it’s obvious he does a lot more than just run. He skims his tongue along my mouth. And before I realize it, I’m letting out a soft sigh.

His tongue slips in. He tastes intriguing—all male and wicked promises. My belly warms, and I feel an electric flare on every inch of my skin. He deepens the kiss, and I fall into the building sweetness of it, gliding my tongue along his and liking it too much. This is exactly what I imagined a perfect kiss should be.

I moan deep in my throat. The sound surprises me. I’ve never let out a moan like that before—mixed with a bit of demand, need and pleasure. Tugging at the zipper under my chin, Luke pulls back. The moment my neck’s exposed, chilly air hits the damp skin, clearing away the lust clouding my thoughts. I start to step back, but he grasps my ponytail and bites the delicate skin over the pulsing vein in my neck.

The sharp feel of his teeth stuns me. But instead of jolting me out of the pleasurable haze, it pulls me back in. His tongue soothes the spot, his hot, uneven breath fanning over my skin.

“I’m sweaty,” I murmur in a half-hearted protest. Not even half-hearted. More like a tenth of a heart. In fact, I’m not even sure why I’m pointing it out.

“A little clean sweat is hot,” he whispers. “I want you to be slick and salty all over when you scream my name in bed.”

Oh God. My heart hammers as though I’ve just finished a marathon. Fresh sweat pops over me, and I tilt my head, desperate for more.

A dog barking shatters the spell. I blink, and there’s Mrs. Nolan, her steps slow. She always walks her golden retriever puppy about the time I’m done with my morning run.

I pull back, clearing my throat. Luke lets go of my neck, but keeps one hand at my waist.

“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Nolan says, her eyes bright behind a pair of thick plastic-frame glasses.

“Hello,” I say, zipping my top back up. According to my hacking, she’s a retired English teacher. She probably also likes to gossip; she listed “local and neighborhood news” as a hobby.

She looks at Luke. He shoots her a polite grin and says, “Hi, I’m Luke. I just moved here temporarily.”

“How wonderful,” she says with a big smile. “Welcome. It’s such a friendly place.”

“Yes, I’m discovering that.” Luke winks at me.

My face feels extra hot. I glance at my watch. “You know what? It’s time I wrap up my run. I have lots of stuff to do.” That part isn’t a lie. I do have to get ready for work. But I also have fifteen minutes to go before I can consider my run completed for the day. Unfortunately, I have to get out of here…like, now.

Before Luke or Mrs. Nolan can say anything, I sprint for home as fast as I can.