Page 34 of Over the Moon

“I just don’t know why Bridger is so convinced that Emilia is the one writing the column. She’s pretty busy with the flower shop, and she’s a part-time caretaker for her grandmother, as well,” I said. She and I had grown close. I felt like I knew her pretty well in the few weeks since we’d met.

I knew a good person when I saw one. And Emilia Taylor was good people.

Clark and Bridger walked out onto the patio.

“You three look like you’re conspiring,” Clark said, and a jolt of awareness shot through me as his light green eyes found mine. A rush of flutters hit my stomach, and I tried desperately to ignore it.

“We’re talking about theTaylor Tea,” Lulu said, quirking a brow as she turned her attention to Bridger. “What if you found out that I was the one writing the column?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice try. I have a gift for reading people. You’d never be able to keep a secret that big. Plus, you weren’t living here when this column first came out.”

“Touché,” Lulu said, before reaching for her wine glass.

“Dude, does it really matter?” Clark groaned. “I don’t really give a shit who writes it.”

“Really, brother? This woman said that you might be done playing hockey because of your injury. That shit is not okay,” Bridger hissed.

“But I’m not done. I’m practically back to 100 percent.” Clark waggled his brows, and damn if the man wasn’t sexy as hell. This is why, once again, alcohol and Clark Chadwick did not mix. “Right, Weeze?”

“I’d say you’re 92 percent there,” I chuckled.

“Loving the cute nickname,” Lulu said, as she leaned close to my ear.

Yeah, me too.

nine

. . .

Clark

“Damn, woman. It’s not a race,”I grunted, struggling to keep up with her as we came down the dirt trail near my house. The sun was beating down on us, and she’d been pushing the pace the whole time.

“I’m not the one who’s racing. You keep trying to get one shoulder ahead of me,” Eloise said, her words labored, as she was breathing heavily.

And let me tell you, a panting Eloise is sexy as hell.

“I’m used to running alone,” I said, as we came to a stop in the back of the house.

We both bent over, hands on our knees, as we tried to catch our breath.

She wiped her forehead with the hem of her tank top, letting me see her toned abs before she let it fall back in place.

“So if you’re running with someone, you have to lead?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s my nature,” I chuckled. “I’m a professional athlete. I don’t think it’s a stretch that I like to win.”

It was hot as hell this morning, which was not unusual for early August, but you usually got a reprieve this early in the morning.

“Fair enough.” She glanced out at the river. I’ve gotten to know this woman over the last five weeks, and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

“You want to jump in?”

“We don’t have time to go for a swim before today’s workout. It’s a long one,” she said.

I tore my tee over my head and dropped my shorts, before kicking off my running shoes and socks.

She just stood there, gaping at me.

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