Page 48 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Same here,” he said, watching her with an interest that made her belly flutter. “So … do you want to run together? Or are we going to awkwardly set out at the same time but not run together? I can take a different route or leave later? Run at a faster pace …”

She took the obnoxious sound of the spring in her shaker bottle rattling against the plastic as a way to delay her response. There was no way to not offend him, or make it awkward. She had to agree.

She also wanted to run with him, even though it had bad idea written all over it.

“N-no, we can run together,” she said, before tipping the bottle up to her mouth and draining the shake.

“Awesome. Jagger will be here any minute, then we can head out.”

He left her in the kitchen, pondering why he rendered her a tongue-tied puddle and also how he got biceps like that. She should have set her alarm for four.

Maybe she’d do that tomorrow.

No, because he’d know and get offended. There is no way out of this without hurting him or making it awkward.

Ugh. Her conscience was right.

She rinsed out the bottle and left it to dry on the counter, joining Bennett by the front door as he tied his shoes. She was just tying her last shoe when the door opened to reveal a very handsome, bearded man, taller than Bennett, and with extremely broad shoulders. He wore flannel pajama pants and a gray hoodie. All he did was grunt at Bennett, give Justine a quick grunt of a “hello” and a half-lifted brow before he dramatically flopped onto the couch and pulled a throw blanket over himself.

“Thanks, bro,” Bennett said, hanging onto the still open door.

Jagger grunted like the bear he resembled.

Justine followed Bennett out into the dark. Soon, they wouldn’t need headlamps because the days were getting longer and the sunrise would be earlier. Already the slivers of a new day penetrated the morning, and the winking stars no longer had their midnight brilliance.

“Shall we?” he asked, smiling at her and turning on his headlamp.

She nodded, and they walked down to the gate. “I’ve given you your own code. It’s 4-7-7-6. Works for the main door and the gate. Want to give it a try?”

She punched in the code for the man door and it clicked open. Why did that bring her so much joy?

Bennett held it open for her and she stepped through, inhaling that dewy, fresh air mixed with the pungent, yet comforting scent of low tide.

“You set the pace. I’m good with whatever.”

For some reason those words struck a chord inside of her. Like they had a secondary meaning behind them. Not just the pace for their run, but the pace for their … whatever this was.

Because she wasn’t delusional, right? There was something between them. Attraction … lust. There was something else besides her being a guest and him being heavily committed to customer service.

They started out at a steady, but easy, lope.

“How long have you been running?” he asked, after they turned off the laneway onto the main road.

“Since junior high. I ran cross country all through college too.”

“Oh wow! Do you run marathons or triathlons?”

“You, um … you asked me that yesterday when we ran.” She chewed on her bottom lip and glanced sideways at him out of the corner of her eye.

Even in the dark, she could see his cheeks change color, and he ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up even more than sleep had. “Shit. Did I? I’m sorry. I … I’m still half asleep, I guess.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk. We can just run.”

He nodded, though reluctance creased his features, and they both faced forward.

Well, now that they weren’t talking, things were even more awkward. She wanted to run into the woods, curl up at the base of a stump into the fetal position, and die of embarrassment. The mushrooms could feed on her decomposing corpse and archeologists hundreds of years from now would find her skeleton with the metal screw in her ankle from when she broke it when she was seven.

Why couldn’t she have just answered him again? Why’d she have to say that to him?

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