Page 8 of Healing You
“Twice in one day.” He'd meant it to come out light-hearted, but his voice had a warning to it he didn't quite recognize. He cleared his throat and tried again. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Yvonne's eyes flitted around as she redirected her gaze anywhere but on Steve's scar. Which was rather amusing, considering she had her own scar on her forearm. But it also made for an awkward conversation when the person wouldn't even look at you.
“I was just finishing my run,” she said quietly, gesturing to her mesh shorts and tank top. Then, with a snort, she dropped her head, shaking it. “I don't speak to you for years and then twice in one day, I'm a sweaty, smelly mess both times.”
She tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and tightened her ponytail.
“Don't forget snotty and red-eyed.” Steve leaned in to her shoulder and inhaled. She clicked her tongue, jaw dropping indignantly. But before she could respond, Steve continued. “Sweaty, yeah. Smelly? No way.” He smiled. She smelled amazing. Natural. “You should jump in the water. It'll feel like heaven after your run.”
She cleared her throat. “I was going to, actually. I always do.”
Steve tugged his shirt back over his head. “What are you doing running out here? I thought you lived over on the West End?” He eyed her long, muscled legs as she drew figure eights in the sand with her toe.
“I used to,” she said, shrugging. “I moved over here a few months ago.”
Steve frowned. “I bet your parents love that.” His neighborhood was great, of course, but compared to the West End? This side of town may as well have been made up of trailer parks to the Sarzackis. “How come I haven't seen you before?”
She swallowed hard and her throat tightened as it went down. “I usually run in the mornings. But today was... well, I didn't get to have my usual schedule. Blame the rest on a missing cat.” She gestured behind her. “I ran into your mom and she thought she’d spotted her neighbor's lost cat near these docks. No sign of the kitty though. Did you see her?”
“Nope. I’ll keep my eye out.” He had to fight not to roll his eyes. He was an idiot... this whole chance encounter reeked of Marty Tripp. He bet Frank didn't even have a new boat. “How's Gatsby doing?” he asked, changing the subject before she figured out what his mother was up to.
A grin split her face. “He's great. When I got home from work, his tail was wagging and he rushed over to say hi.”
“I'm so glad. Promise me you'll call if his health changes?”
There was a long pause as she tilted her jaw, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “I promise.” Her hazel eyes smoldered as though ripe with a new challenge.
She pulled her tank top off, revealing a sports bra beneath. Tanned skin and tight abs caught his attention immediately and he suddenly felt the need to dive back into that freezing water. Jesus. Some things never change. That pesky, logical voice in the back of his head told him to look away, and he cursed it as he obeyed, dipping his gaze to the ground.
Yvonne’s laughter boomed in the still twilight. “Well, well, well, look who's fine being shirtless, but suddenly shy around a sports bra.”
He snapped his gaze back to hers. Was that... was she flirting with him? He took a slow step closer. “I think shy is a bit of an overstatement.”
She shrugged, dropping her keys and phone beside her shirt and kicking off her shoes. “Maybe. I'm not your type, though.” She brushed past him, dipping her toes into the lake.
“What makes you think my type has changed at all in thirteen years?”
She was now waist deep in the water and the little shorts clung to her tight ass like a second skin. Steve suppressed a groan. Unfortunately for him, his shorts were likewise wet and clingy as he felt the stirrings of an erection.
“Did you call Sophy?” Yvonne's voice broke through his thoughts. “To thank her for bringing you her cookies?” She grinned, and her voice pealed with laughter. Teasing.
Holy shit... she was teasing him? It was rusty... creaky, and yet, they each slid into their old roles.
Steve laughed. “Hey, credit where credit's due. Those were Lex's cookies. And damn good ones at that.”
Yvonne laughed and fell back into the lake, dipping entirely under water and coming back up moments later. “It's none of my business. Besides, you could never say no to... cookies.”
“I'd be more than happy to bring you cookies next time.” He arched one eyebrow and wet his lips as he watched a wake wash over her flat stomach. The words slipped out before he had the good sense to stop them. What was he doing? Nothing had changed between them.
“From what I heard, you got very good at sharing your cookies after college.”
“Is that what you heard?” It wasn't entirely wrong. He'd gone through a playboy streak. And even recently, he didn't have relationships per say. But he certainly had lovers. Granted, those playboy days of his were long ago, and since opening his own clinic, he kept his trysts quiet and usually out of Maple Grove.
Molly barked and swam into the lake alongside Yvonne, who laughed and gave his dog a splashy pet. “Hey, Molly. You have a good run, too?”
Steve inhaled deeply, feeling the clean summer air fill his lungs before he let it out slowly. He hated that she still saw him that way. Like a playboy.
She barely looked at Steve, now completely enchanted with his dog and petting the scruff of her neck. “Molly—tell me, how many different kinds cookies does your daddy accept each week?” The muscles in his back seized up at that statement, and he stretched his neck to each side in an effort to release that tension. She kissed Molly's nose before taking the tennis ball and lobbing it into the lake. Molly lurched after it, splashing Yvonne in the face.
