Ready to Run (I Do, I Don't 1)

Jordan hesitated only a second before reaching for a carton of chocolate peanut butter cup.

Then went to grab a bag of Doritos.

Just in case.

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.