by Lauren Layne
Frankly, it creeped her out.
Jordan glanced at the clock. Two P.M. Too early for wine, so she poured herself a glass of iced tea and picked up her cellphone to call one of her colleagues.
Dana Munos was another of Raven’s minions. She and Jordan weren’t besties or anything, but they got along, helped each other out when one had hit a wall. Jordan had so hit a wall.
“This is Dana.”
Jordan blinked a bit at the brusque greeting. Maybe she’d been in Lucky Hollow too long, because the quick impatience in Dana’s tone caught her off guard. She’d grown accustomed to the more friendly greetings of the people of Lucky Hollow, who called her dear and sweetheart and approached every conversation as though they had all the time in the world.
“Hey, Dana, it’s Jordan.”
“Hey! Sorry. The damn phone’s been ringing nonstop today; I’m not even looking at caller ID anymore. What’s up? You back in New York yet?”
“No, still in Montana. Which is actually why I’m calling. Got a sec for some advice?” Jordan said, taking her tea into the living room and plopping onto the couch.
“Sure,” Dana said, her voice curious. “Hit me.”
“So, this candidate I’m trying to recruit—”
“The hot firefighter.”
“Yup. He’s, um…not interested.”
“The good ones rarely are,” Dana said. “You know the rule. Always go with the candidate whose friend applied for him, not the guy who applied himself.”
“Yeah, well, that’s sort of the problem. This guy didn’t apply at all.”
“How’d you find him?”
“Google.”
“Nice.”
Was it? It felt a bit more like…stalking.
“At what point do I back off?” Jordan asked, pulling a throw pillow onto her stomach and tugging at a loose thread.
“Hmm. You’re sure he’s the right guy?”
“On paper, yes. And he’s got this…quality. A quiet reluctance that I think viewers are going to swoon over.”
There was a moment of silence. “Are you swooning over him?”
“Of course not,” Jordan scoffed. She and Dana weren’t nearly close enough for Jordan to confide her kinda-sorta crush on Luke. “And he hates me.”
“Nobody hates you. You’re too nice.”
“He called me a vulture in high heels,” Jordan blurted out. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it had been on her mind, and apparently she needed to tell someone.
“Ouch,” Dana said with a little laugh.
Yeah. Ouch. It had…well, it had hurt. Not only because the description was unflattering but because it had felt true.
Jordan didn’t want to be that woman. The one who was so focused on her own goals that she steamrolled right over other people’s wants.
But she didn’t want to give up either. Not just because of professional pride; her gut was telling her there was some sort of unfinished business here. That if she didn’t see this through, she’d always…wonder.
“What’s your deadline?” Dana asked.
“End of the month.”
“Three weeks. That’s workable. What about seducing him?”
“Dana!”
The other woman laughed. “Come on. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“It would for me!”
Dana sighed. “Fine, okay. How’s the backup-candidate list?”
“Short and shrinking,” Jordan replied glumly. The list had only had six viable guys, and two of them had gotten back to her yesterday with thanks but no thanks.
“So tell Raven you’ll have to open it up to applications.”
Jordan groaned, and Dana made a sound of understanding. “I know, I get it. It means thousands of weirdos to weed through, but it does widen the pool.”
“Raven’s gonna be pissed.”
“Probably,” Dana agreed. “She’s been wanting to keep this whole thing under wraps so the other networks don’t know what we’re up to. Our sneak attack goes out the window once we do applications. But, Jordan, if your guy’s a no-go…”
“I’ll think about it,” Jordan said, pulling harder at the thread on the pillow. “Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Dana said. “Call if you want to talk through anything else.”
“Definitely.”
They made small talk about the lingering New York humidity, about the wine bar that had opened up around the corner from the office, about the Lady Gaga concert at Madison Square Garden, then said their goodbyes.
Jordan hung up and waited for the pang of homesickness for New York.
It didn’t come.
She closed her eyes and, resting her head back against the cushion of the couch, let herself admit what she hadn’t been able to say aloud to Dana—or to anyone:
She wasn’t still in Lucky Hollow because she thought Luke was close to caving.
She was still here because she wanted to be—because for the first time in a long time, she felt…
Home.
The thought was terrifying.
—
Lucky Hollow had two grocery options. The first was the adorable little corner store in town that had exactly one brand of eggs, one type of butter, four cracker brands, six assorted cheeses, and so on.
Or there was the big box store. Nearly a forty-minute drive outside of town, but at the bar last night the women had assured Jordan that it was a necessary evil to stock up on staples.
She didn’t mind.
After her run-in with Luke, she needed a breather away from Lucky Hollow.
Away from Luke.
You’re little more than a vulture in high heels.
The memory stung.
She didn’t know exactly what she wanted Luke Elliott to think about her, but it wasn’t that.
Then again, she couldn’t really blame him. She’d invaded his hometown, for God’s sake. Infiltrated his group of friends, chatted with his sister, buddied up with his ex-fiancée—one of them, anyway.
Jordan blew out a breath as she dropped a bag of spinach into the cart, followed by a carton of mixed greens and baby carrots. She was in the dairy department, trying to do the math on which Greek yogurt special was a better deal, when she heard her name.
Jordan smiled when she saw Hailey Withers approaching. “Hey!”
The petite brunette was dressed in an adorable yellow sundress that flattered her generous curves.
Hailey ditched her basket and gestured forward for a hug. “Bring it in, Blondie.”
She glanced in Jordan’s cart as she pulled back. “Dang, no wonder you’re so skinny!” The woman picked up a package of quinoa and gave Jordan a look. “Really? Please don’t look in mine. Would you believe me if I lied and said that the Lucky Charms are for the kids and that I’d never eat the Kraft Mac and Cheese I’m planning to buy in bulk?”
“Don’t judge me too harshly,” Jordan said with a smile, gesturing at her mostly healthy cart. “I ran track in high school and college, and I guess I’m used to fueling my body accordingly.”
“Great, you eat vegetables and you’re a runner. You’ll understand if I decide to dislike you?” Hailey asked good-naturedly.
“Absolutely. If you ever see me running by your house, I give you my full blessing to throw tomatoes.”
“Rocks, Blondie. If I see you running, I’ll be throwing rocks. Have you been running since you moved here?”
Moved here.
She hadn’t moved here. She was just here for work….
“Not as much running as I’m used to,” Jordan replied, dragging her mind back to the conversation. “I tried running around outside the rental, but…not a lot of places to go.”
Hailey laughed. “No, not really. You can only loop around the bakery and Tucker’s so many times, right? You should take a run by the lake. That’s where the high school track team practices.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten there was a lake nearby.”
Hailey nodded. “Ten min
utes or so from your place. I mean, it’s not a fancy path or anything, but it’s pretty in its way.”
“And it’s open to anyone?”
“Eh. Technically? Private property. But nobody minds. Here, give me your phone. I’ll text myself, and then later I’ll message you with the best place to park your car to get down to the trail.”
“That’d be great,” Jordan said, as she handed over her phone so Hailey could enter her info.
“Okay, I should get my junk-food-mobile out of here,” Hailey said, giving the phone back. “My mother in-law is with the littles today, but if I’m gone too long, she’ll start promising them ice cream for dinner, and I’ll be the bad mom who has to say no.”
“How old are they?”
“Beau is six, meaning he loves bugs and dirt and all the usual boy stuff. Ann is three and likes bugs and dirt even more than her brother does. They’re monsters, but they’re my monsters and all that.”
Jordan smiled. “I’ll let you get back to them. It was really nice seeing you!”
She meant it. Hailey was impossible not to like.
“Add some chocolate to this mess or I’ll have to break up with you,” Hailey said, waving her finger over Jordan’s cart as she started to move away. “Oh, hey, actually, speaking of chocolate…you have plans tomorrow?”
“Other than working on casting my net to catch Luke so I can drag him back to New York? Not really.”
Hailey laughed. “Bait him with Cool Ranch Doritos. He’s got a crazy weakness for them. But anyway, a bunch of us are meeting for book club tomorrow. You should join.”
“I’m a fast reader, but not sure I can read whatever the book for discussion is by tomorrow,” Jordan said regretfully.
Hailey waved her hand. “Nonsense. We hardly ever discuss the book. It’s more an excuse to get the guys to babysit while we all drink wine. Talk about boys.”
“Okay, then,” Jordan said. “I’d love to.”
“Perfect. Then you can tell us what you and Luke were fighting about at the bar.”
Jordan snorted. “I’ll give you three guesses, and you only need one.”
“Keep working on him,” Hailey said. “The guy needs someone to push his buttons, snap him out of his funk.”
“Can you please tell him that?”
“Oh, he quit listening to me a long time ago,” Hailey said.
“But he did once?” Jordan asked, a little puzzled.
Hailey didn’t reply; instead, she blew Jordan a kiss. “I’ll text you about the running-track and book-club deets. But only if you promise to add something non-organic to your cart, ’kay?”
Jordan waved goodbye to Hailey, then did an eenie-meenie with the Greek yogurt she’d been debating, going for the one with honey and almonds mixed in.
She was nearly to the checkout stand when she made a snap decision, backpedaling to the frozen section, where she stopped in front of the ice cream display.
Jordan hesitated only a second before reaching for a carton of chocolate peanut butter cup.
Then went to grab a bag of Doritos.
Just in case.
Chapter 12
Hailey’s directions to the lakeside running path had come in the form of a picture message, complete with a hand drawing of where to park and the big rock where she could cut through the property of summer people who were gone for the season and didn’t mind the locals borrowing the edge of their property.
At six A.M., dressed in a long-sleeve white running top, black leggings, and her favorite running shoes (special-ordered in neon orange, although she always changed up the color when she got a new pair), Jordan followed Hailey’s instructions, careful to stay in the wooded section and not trounce on the neatly maintained lawns.
—
The second the lake came into view, Jordan inhaled in delight. The scenery was breathtaking, and not just from the perspective of a Manhattanite starved for a whiff of nature.
The morning was cold, crisp, and cloudless, the water deep blue and clear. The lake wasn’t particularly large, but the houses surrounding it were far enough from its edge to give the illusion of pristine perfection, as though you could run forever with nothing but the trees for company.
Rolling her eyes at her own whimsy, Jordan made her way forward until the path Hailey had mentioned became clear. Not a path precisely, but it was obvious that hers wouldn’t be the only running shoes to wind their way around the water.
She started off at an easy jog, smiling at how good the cool air felt in her lungs. Unsurprisingly, the air felt fresher here than it did in New York. A nearly forgotten memory assailed her—of her high school days, when she’d run with her cross-country team across wide-open spaces. There wasn’t a lake in Keaton, but there were fields and wooded areas. There were no taxis to dodge, no strollers to wind around, no hotheaded businesspeople screaming into their cellphones.
Jordan slowly picked up her pace, moving from a warm-up jog to a steady run, twigs and freshly fallen leaves crunching beneath her shoes.
She ran past plenty of homes. They were all elevated, probably to better enjoy the view. She didn’t look too closely, not wanting to invade the privacy of anyone enjoying the solitude of a morning cup of coffee, but she found it a pleasant surprise that most of the homes were modest.
Well maintained, but cozy instead of ostentatious. More cabin style than mansion.
She ran by a dozen houses, then two dozen, not seeing a single soul besides the birds.
She’d been running a good twenty minutes or so before she saw another person. A fellow runner, several feet in front of her.
A man, judging by the height and shoulders, dressed in loose gray running pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. A gray beanie was pulled low, covering his hair.
He had good form, she noted. Good speed too. Definitely not a beginning runner.
She picked up her own speed, just a little, but he didn’t turn around. Probably wearing headphones. She never did when running outside, because of the whole dangers of a woman running alone, but she supposed it was different for men. One of life’s petty little injustices, that women couldn’t listen to early Madonna while jogging on a secluded path.
Jordan jogged behind the man for a couple of minutes, matching her pace to his, assessing.
He was in great shape, but so was she. And it had been a long time since she’d had a chance to indulge in her competitive side.
She slowly increased her speed, fully intending to overtake him, just for the thrill of passing. If she got really lucky, maybe he’d engage, give her the thrill of a race.
Jordan’s shoes moved faster as she gained on her unsuspecting mystery rival.
She was a few feet behind him when he finally heard or sensed her presence, his head whipping around.
As expected, white earbuds were tucked under the cap, but that was where the expected ended and the shock began.
A familiar hazel gaze locked on hers, widening in surprise before narrowing in suspicion.
Her mystery runner was none other than Luke Elliott.
Of course it was.
Jordan gave a quick roll of her eyes, as though to say, Calm down, I’m not freaking following you.
And then she kicked it into high gear, racing by him without a single word.
She kept her ears tuned for the telltale sound of footsteps gaining on her. At first there was nothing, and she stifled the surge of disappointment that his determination to avoid her even extended to this.
Then she felt the air change, heard his footsteps, heavier than hers but just as fast. No. Faster.
Before she could register what was happening, Luke breezed by her without so much as a glance her way.
Only when he’d passed her did she give in to the grin. Game on.
She let him open a lead on her, just for a second, lulling him into complacency, hoping he’d burn up his energy before he learned what she was made of.
Then she picked up her speed, relishing the way her body
thrummed, her blood pumping, breath coming just a bit quicker as she exerted herself to pass him.
The look of surprise on his face as she pulled even was worth the strain of her underused muscles, the slight burn in her lungs. Jordan was fast, but it had been years since she’d gone all out, and Luke, being a man in excellent shape, was a more-than-worthy opponent.
Luke increased his speed to match hers, and for several minutes they ran nearly neck and neck, each pulling ahead for short periods of time, only to have the other draw even.
Her muscles started to scream and she felt a surge of irritation. She really hadn’t planned on losing.
But just when she would have slowed to a jog, conceded his victory, he tugged his earbuds free and bunched the cord in his hand even as he kept up the near-sprint. “To the fence post?”
His words came around harsh pants, revealing that she wasn’t the only one straining, and it was precisely the encouragement she needed to push through.
“You’re on,” she managed.
Jordan put every ounce of her training, every bit of her competitive spirit (and, okay, maybe a little lingering anger about Luke’s cruel words at the bar), into those last several feet.
She ran all in, body and soul.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stay even with her, not falling behind but not pulling ahead either.
Four feet. Three feet. Two…
The fence-post finish line passed in a blur out of the corner of her left eye, and she gradually let her body ease up, allowing straining muscles to slow to an easy run, then a jog, then finally a walk.
Hands on hips, she caught her breath and turned to face her opponent.
Luke had stopped a while back, hands on knees as he sucked in big gulps of air, eyes locked on the ground between his feet.
She started to walk back toward him, and when he lifted his face, she felt his grin like a punch in the gut—it was the first real smile she’d seen from him. At least the first directed at her.
It made her feel warm in a million ways that had nothing to do with the fact that she’d just run her heart out like she hadn’t in years.
He slowly straightened. “Gotta say, City. Think that’s the first time a woman’s ever given me a run for my money. You didn’t let up, not even once.”
