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

“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.