Page 32 of The Ruse of Romancing
He glanced down at his smart watch, fiddling with the dials for a moment. “Well, you know, a good distance.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks flooded with a bit of color, and it wasn’t from physical exertion. Interesting.
“And what does a ‘good distance’ look like for you?” I braced myself, ready to hear some crazy number of miles. A physique like his didn’t happen by accident and often involved more hours in the gym than I cared to count.
“Like half,” he said, hedging, his facial expression carefully neutral.
“Half of what? A 5k, 10k, marathon?” If this man had run over ten miles already this morning, he was most definitely out of my league, edit or no edit. Also, he was surprisingly not sweaty, even if the morning was cool.
“Half... a mile.”
I stopped abruptly, grabbing his arm so he’d stop with me.
“I’m sorry. You’ve only run half a mile? And here I was ready for some epic double-digit number.” I couldn’t help but laugh after I’d built up his answer so much in my head.
“Hey now, I had just started my workout when I ran into you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I still have time today to get more exercise in. Unless you had other plans for the day you’re hoping for me to be a part of.” He quirked an eyebrow at me. It was a very expressive, attractive eyebrow and I wanted to reach over and trace its outline with my finger.
“Well don’t let me hold you back. I’d hate to keep you from reaching your mile goal.” I jokingly waved in front of us at the open expanse of sand, holding my breath to see if he would call my bluff or if he was as interested in me as I was in him.
He hesitated a moment before grinning at me. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“I was parking my car when I saw you start walking down the beach, so I locked up and ran after you. I couldn’t miss my shot at a second meeting, even if it meant I wasn’t going to get my full workout today.” The smile that man threw my way could end wars. He was that level of pretty, which was probably why I was starting to picture Allen Bradley whenever I attempted to write Petros, even if the character had always had darker hair and green eyes in my head before now.
Did Hypatia and Petros need to have a beach scene? I mean, it would probably devolve into an epic battle with some demigods, but I could build in some incredible chemistry and a few moments for them to check each other out. Possibilities began to fill my mind, and I wanted to race back to the car for my laptop.
Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the conversation in front of me. The ideas would hold, I hoped.
“I appreciate your sacrifice,” I said, trying to hide my delight at his comment as butterflies danced in my stomach. “Hopefully the conversation proves worth it.”
“I’m positive it will.” Allen’s expression was warm and full of interest. I quickly turned away in an effort to hide the sudden heat in my cheeks.
I spotted an interesting shell and bent down to examine it to give myself a chance to regain my composure. This man was doing funny things to my emotions, and I wasn’t completely sure how to navigate it.
“Do you frequently run on the beach?” I asked, determined to lead the topic somewhere other than my interest in him.
I straightened to keep walking, leaving the shell in the sand.
“Since I arrived here, almost every day, weather permitting. Back home in Idaho, beach runs are a bit more difficult,” he said with clear humor in his voice. I’d forgotten he wasn’t a local. He just seemed so at home here that it was hard to picture him living anywhere else, like the college town in Idaho he’d referenced in our conversation two days earlier.
“I’ve heard Idaho has some beautiful lakes and rivers. Do you ever run on those beaches?”
I didn’t know why I was continuing with this line of conversation. I hated running, but for some reason my brain couldn’t think of another topic to talk about. All thoughts in my head were currently limited to running and beaches and running on beaches. There was also a very nice image in my head of whatthis man looked like while running on a beach. If I asked him to run a bit in front of me so I could experience him running from all directions and angles, would that be weird? It would be for research, obviously. I needed some reference images for writing Petros running on the beach accurately, at least that was the story I was telling myself.
Allen gave a small shrug, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. “I’m sure there are some lake beaches that would be worth running on, but not where I live.”
I nodded, at a complete loss for what to say next. I made a living with words and somehow, they’d all deserted me in this moment.
“Are you into running?” Allen asked the only logical next question after my fascination with his running habits.
I vigorously shook my head, sending the hair that had escaped my ponytail flying.
“I don’t run. If you see me running, you should be concerned because something’s chasing me, and I have no qualms about tripping others in order to aid my escape,” I said, completely serious.
“Noted,” Allen said with a sage nod as we continued to pick our way up the beach. “But for that to work, you’d have to run faster than me which, given how infrequently you run, I doubt you can.”
“You’d be amazed at what I can do with proper motivation.”
