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“Wait for me on the patio. I just need to change my shoes.”
I run up the stairs to the kitchen and hide behind the wall, eyes squeezed closed, head pressed back, trying to calm myself down.
What is it about this guy that throws me for such a freaking loop? I wasn’t so flustered last night, when we spent the whole evening practically snuggling on the couch.
But last night I figured we were just in foreplay mode.
Now I have no idea what’s going on.
I wait for him on one of the chaise lounges on the patio, enjoying the cool morning breeze from the ocean. The view from this house is absolutely incredible.
“Ready?”
I jump up. “Yeah.”
“I usually run north about five miles and then back.”
Oh, so just a quick ten mile run along the beach? Sure, no biggie.
“Sounds good to me.”
Another eyebrow raise. “Okay then.”
He jogs down the steps toward the sandy path to the beach. It’s slow going here in the loose sand and I follow him until we reach the shore. Once we’re on wet, packed sand, he veers right, and I come up beside him. We jog along for a few moments, me looking straight ahead, and Ben looking I don’t know where because I haven’t dared to look over.
His voice shakes me out of my own mind.
“It’s a bit different, running on sand. The slight give with each step makes your body work harder to push off each time. If you’re not used to it, you’ll be feeling your calves tomorrow like never before.”
The fitness junkie inside me perks up at the idea of unlocking a new way to target a muscle, but I keep it cool. “Is that a challenge?”
Ben just laughs. He’s starting to do that more and more, I notice. “Isn’t everything?”
“I suppose,” I say, picking up my pace just enough to pull ahead as we head into a narrow strip of beach between the lapping tide and a bed of seagrass. I can feel Ben on my heels.
“You know,” he starts, sounding not even a bit winded. I may have met my match after all. “I usually don’t like falling behind. But I don’t mind this one bit.”
His obvious flirtation sends my heart soaring. I toss a smile over my shoulder. “Picking up my rear?”
Another laugh from Ben has me grinning.
After a mile or so of white sand beach, glittering sunshine, and watching birds dive for their breakfast, I’m feeling exhilarated—and a little fatigued.
Am I going to make it through ten miles of this?
Don’t get me wrong. On a treadmill, I could bang out ten miles in ninety minutes or less. But on this beach? I can feel my body struggling for purchase with every step.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Ben see how hard it is. I’ve got twenty years on him. I’m not quitting before he does.
I wonder…
“You know, you’ve been back there an awful long time, Ben. Are you having trouble catching me?” I toss the words over my shoulder, trying to sound as calm as possible.
I hear him laugh. “I didn’t realize that was the point of this exercise.”
“Well, it could be,” I sass over my shoulder.
And then I take off.
