Page 46 of The House on Blueberry Lane

Before, whenever he would leave bed to go jogging, she wouldn’t even stir. But then it could have been that he’d pretty much worn her out the night before. Last night had been different. He had slept in his own bed and she in hers.

They had agreed to meet earlier than his usual routine, since she needed to be at work at seven thirty. He had no problem with that since he made his own hours at the bank and any appointments weren’t until after ten o’clock. He had figured, although she had agreed to the time, that today would be a challenge for her. Evidently, it hadn’t been.

“Good morning, Velvet.”

“Good morning, Jaye.”

His gaze roamed over her, and he thought she looked good in her jogging suit. Curvy in all the right places. Sexy as hell. But then, he thought she looked good in anything she put on her body. And he noted she had a good pair of running shoes on her feet. They appeared new. “You look nice.”

“Thanks, and so do you,” she said, coming to stand out on her porch as if testing the temperature. Then as if satisfied she’d dressed appropriately, she closed the door behind her.

“Thanks.” He also thought she smelled good. Who did that to go jogging, knowing they would eventually get all sweaty?

“I hope you remember that I’m not a jogger and give me some slack, Jaye.”

He grinned at her as they headed down the steps. “You’ll do fine, but I promise to let you set the pace.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to slow you down.”

“You won’t. There’s a path I usually jog that goes the full diameter of the blueberry field. I usually cover it at least four to five times each morning, but today we’ll run it only once so you can get used to it. In no time at all, you’ll be doing four or five easily.”

“Please don’t hold your breath for that to happen.”

He threw his head back and laughed as they headed toward the back of the house. “Before we start, we should do a few warm-up exercises.”

“Okay.”

Of course, she would be familiar with doing those since she taught gymnastics. He’d been surprised to hear that because, in the three years they were together, he hadn’t known her to ever frequent a gym. “When did you get into gymnastics, Velvet?” he asked as they began doing stretches.

She peered over at him. “I’ve always been into gymnastics, Jaye.”

He couldn’t help the dumbfounded expression that appeared on his face. “I never knew that.”

“Well, I have been. Since a child. I almost made the Olympic tryouts but a tendon strain did me in.” She smiled. “How do you think I was capable of doing all those crazy positions in the bedroom?”

He honestly hadn’t thought about it—all he’d known was that she could and that had been good enough for him. No questions asked. Now he wished he had.

“I’d never thought about how you did it, Velvet,” he said.

“Well, now you know.”

He wondered what else he didn’t know about her because he’d deliberately kept her on her back between the sheets most of the time. They did several other kinds of stretches for ten minutes or so and then he noticed something. “Where’s your water bottle?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know I needed to bring one.”

“You do. But that’s no problem, I got mine and we can share.”

She didn’t say anything, but he was aware she knew that meant drinking from the same bottle. They’d done so in the past without thinking about it, and he was glad to see she didn’t have a problem doing so now.

“Okay, Velvet, let’s go.”

VELVET NEVER HAD a reason to walk the blueberry field, so she’d been surprised by how large it was. And just to think that Jaye ran around it five times? Amazing. She would be lucky if she completed one lap. She was huffing and puffing already.

The field was beautiful with some of the blueberry bushes growing as high as eight feet tall. This was Reid Lacroix’s land and on the other side of it, beyond several acres of thick woods, was where Vashti’s inn, Shelby by the Sea, was located. She wondered if the place was full of occupants this week. Why should she care if it was or wasn’t?

Mainly because thinking about anything was better than concentrating on the man running by her side. The man whose body made sweat a total turn-on. The temperature had dropped a little overnight and the morning air was still rather cool and, like her, he was dressed for the weather. He looked good in sweats, and they emphasized what a great body he had. Nothing had changed about him when it came to staying in shape.

It was obvious he’d adjusted his pace for her and more than once she suggested he run on ahead. She hadn’t promised to catch up because there was no way she could. But he never took her up on her offer to leave her side. He stayed right with her. If she slowed her pace, then he slowed his as well.

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