Chapter Twelve
Denver
Denver laced his running shoes at the edge of the stairs as Sherlock watched him lethargically from the office. After another rabbit encounter first thing in the morning, the dog was down for the count.
Popping up from the stairs, Denver tossed him a treat that landed on the dog bed, three inches from Sherlock’s nose. Even then, he merely stared at it, as if considering the amount of effort required to snatch it up.
“I’ll be back, bud. No licking books while I’m gone.”
Leaving his truck behind, he walked down the hill toward Forget Me Not Lane to meet Sophie. She’d beacross the street from the ice cream parlor, along the bay walk, and halfway finished with today’s eight-mile run. Denver planned to join her for the rest, mostly to ensure she didn’t log extra miles. He’d kept quiet the past couple of weeks, but now that she was only a few days out he didn’t want her to overexert herself before the race.
Last night working on the parade float together had been . . . fun. More fun than he expected, considering he wasn’t excited about the task. Not when he was closing in on the final chapters of Malcom’s latest mystery.
Though she’d given up on two-by-fours early on, after dinner he talked Sophie into handling a drill. That bought him another hour of her company. Plenty of time to decide with unshakable certainty that he wanted a future with Sophie. One in which they faced challenges together, as a team. As a couple. Husband and wife.
Holding Sophie in his arms when she was near the brink of a meltdown, something snapped inside Denver. He could no longer stand by and do nothing while her ex caused her so much grief. Selfishly, Denver didn’t want Sophie to rent her own house because he wanted to marry her, yet he didn’t want that option stripped from her. The choice should be hers to make.
He made a phone call after Sherlock’s morning rabbit encounter to hire a private investigator. Someone who could locate the worthless ex who couldn’t be bothered to write a good check or return a phone call to his own lawyers. No doubt, Sophie would be livid when she learned he interfered, but risking her wrath was a small price to pay for answers she deserved.
“Hey, Denver.” Annie Parks, the bank teller, waved to him from the other side of the street. Her casual business attire and curled hair suggested she had the Saturday morning shift and might not have time to actually cross the street. At least he hoped so. “Thought you weren’t running the marathon this year.”
“I’m not,” he called back, both happy for the road between them and annoyed at having to yell. He didn’t point out that he hadn’t even started running yet. “Just getting some exercise.”
She wasn’t shy about her gaze traveling up and down his body. Just another reason he was ready for Sophie to commit to their future. Maybe he’d get less unwanted attention if he wasn’t viewed as ‘on the market.’ Less even if he was married.
Yes, going for it all was a risk. He could pump the brakes a little, allow things to develop on Sophie’s own terms. Let her come to him. Or he could be drastic and buy a ring.
Malcom would buy a ring.
“Maybe you can train me next year?” Annie called from the edge of her sidewalk, warning Denver she was rethinking crossing the street.
How to dodge that question?He considered jogging down the path to meet Sophie, but thought it would seem odd. When Annie called his name again, Denver decided odd was just fine with him. He waved as he hurried in the opposite direction, as if he hadn’t caught her last comments.
Within seconds, Sophie rounded a corner a block away, headed right for him.
“Hey,” she said, her eyebrows drawn in curiosity. “Am I running too slow or something?”
“Save your energy,” he reminded her. Sophie ran more consistently when she didn’t carry on a conversation. “I’m just dodging unwanted traffic.”
Sophie let out a laugh as Denver eased into her pace. He could run faster. Always had. But it was nice to slow down. Even nicer to run with Sophie.
“This is the last run I’ll be doing with you before Saturday,” he told her. “I want you to remember a few things. I know we’ve gone over them before, but listen and tuck them away for next weekend. First, when you cross that start line, don’t go crazy. You’ll want to run faster than you usually do to keep up with a lot of the others.Don’t. I can’t stress this enough, Soph.”
She nodded through each tip, and when they had covered a mile, he allowed her to put her headphones back in. He was happy to see she was using the Bluetooth ones he’d ordered for her. It’d been killing him that she wasn’t sharing much about her secret admirer. With almost all other topics, she was an open book. At least Tessa had been filling him in on her reactions when she could.
They eased into an easy, quiet pace as they covered the remaining three miles. He loved that Sophie could enjoy the silence as much as conversation. He’d never been a particularly conversational guy. As they approached a turn, Denver said, “Let’s go straight. We can walk that last stretch back. It’ll be a good cooldown for your legs.”
Though this was true, Denver mostly wanted an excuse to keep Sophie in his presence before he had to tuck himself away in his writing cave for the next several hours—at least until he finished the next chapter. The book was growing a tad longer than he predicted, considering the added almost-kiss. It created complications he hadn’t anticipated. If he didn’t write in a real kiss by the end of the book, his readers might light him up with angry emails.
Sophie’s phone vibrated loudly at the eight-mile mark, and her feet slowed to a walk. Reluctance showed on her face. He suspected had he not joined her today she’d run a couple extra miles; she’d been doing that often. “How does that feel?” he asked after she took a drink of water and slowed her heartrate.
“Like I shouldn’t have stopped.”
“I know you want to keep going,” said Denver carefully. “But I promise tapering is built into the last couple of weeks for a good reason. You have to trust me, Soph.”
“I do.” But she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
“I’m walking with you next week,” Denver said in reference to the day on her schedule that said towalktwo miles instead of run. He was certain if he didn’t, she’d run double that distance.
