It Started at Christmas...

Why was that? Did it have to do with Shelby? Should she tell him that she knew about his first love? That his family had told her about his loss? They just hadn’t told her any of the details surrounding the mysterious woman Lance had loved.

Maybe the details didn’t matter. They shouldn’t matter.

Only McKenzie admitted they did. Perhaps it was just curiosity. Perhaps it was jealousy. Perhaps it was something more she couldn’t put her finger on.

She’d almost asked him about Shelby a dozen times, but always changed her mind. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

Today was the first day of a new year. A new beginning.

Who knew, maybe tonight he’d stay.

If not, she was okay with that, too. He might be right in going, in not adding sleeping together to their relationship, because she didn’t count the light dozing they sometimes did after their still phenomenal comings together as sleep. Sleeping together until morning would be another whole level of intimacy.

“You don’t have to try to run next to me,” she advised, thinking they were intimate enough already. Too intimate because imagining life without him was already becoming difficult. Maybe they could stay close friends after their two months were up. Maybe. “Just keep your own steady pace and I’ll keep mine. We’ll meet up at the end.”

Grinning, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They continued to stretch their muscles as the announcer talked, telling them about the cause they were running for, about the rules, etc. Soon they were off.

McKenzie never tried to take the lead early on. In some races

she never took the lead. Not that she didn’t always do her best, but sometimes there were just faster runners for that particular distance. Today she expected to do well, but perhaps not win as she was much more of an endurance runner than a speed one.

Lance ran beside her and to her pleased surprise he didn’t try to talk. In the past when she’d convinced friends to run with her, they’d wanted to have a gab session. That was until they became so breathless they stopped to walk, and then they often expected her to stop and walk with them.

McKenzie ran.

Lance easily kept pace with her. Halfway in she began to wonder if she was slowing him down rather than the other way around. She picked up her pace, pushing herself, suddenly wanting distance between them. Without any huffing or puffing he ran along beside her as if she hadn’t just upped their pace. That annoyed her.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she accused a little breathily, thinking it was bad when she was the one reverting to talking. Next thing you knew she’d be stopping to walk.

“Me?” His gaze cut to her. “I told you that I ran.”

“I’ve never seen you at any of the local runs and yet clearly you do run.”

“I don’t do organized runs or competitions.”

Didn’t do organized runs or competitions? McKenzie frowned. What kind of an answer was that when he clearly enjoyed running as much as she did? Well, maybe almost as much.

“That’s hard to believe with the way you’re into every charity in the region,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you participate in these fund-raisers when they’re an easy way to raise money for great causes? For that matter, why aren’t you organizing races to raise money for all your special causes?”

* * *

McKenzie was a little too smart for her own good. Lance was involved with a large number of charities and helped support many others, but never those that had to do with running.

He did run several times a week, but always alone, always to clear his head, always with someone else at his side, mentally if not physically.

High school cross-country had been where he’d first met Shelby. She’d been a year older than him and had had a different set of friends, so although he’d seen the pretty brunette around school he hadn’t known her. She’d have been better off if he never had.

“No one can do everything,” he answered McKenzie.

“I’m beginning to think you do.”

“Not even close. You and I just happen to have a lot in common. We enjoy the same things.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t enjoy singing.”

“I think you would if you’d relax.”