“All of that sounds horrible,” she teased.
I grinned and set a moderate pace. The girl was so short that she had to take double the number of steps. “Didn’t you mention you enjoy hiking?”
“I used to love it.” Emphasis on used to.
“You’ll get back there,” I said confidently. “Today, I kinda wanna remind you that exercise doesn’t have to be a chore. You can get a lot done when you’re distracted by stellar company and riveting conversation.”
She laughed softly.
Woman, tell me you’re a lesbian.
Maybe my ego wouldn’t be so bruised if I didn’t find her so fucking gorgeous. I’d done some digging this weekend too, so I had a good picture of what she was trying to get back to. A literal picture. One search on her name had brought me to Design by Nolan, and the woman had clearly downplayed her success the other day. She had stores in New York, LA, Miami, and Chicago, and famous people wore her jewelry in the online catalogue. A-list actress Sophie Pierce had worn Natalie’s designs to the goddamn Oscars.
This was why I was on the fence about Natalie being related to Gray. I mean, wouldn’t he have mentioned that his, what, aunt…? That his aunt or whatever was some big shot in that industry?
On the other hand… She did kind of remind me of Gray’s mother, Chloe. They could be sisters.
Natalie and I walked up Hemlock Avenue, and I asked more about her weekend. I noticed she was taking in the sights as if she was new to the area, and then she said she’d unpacked most of her moving boxes—which reminded me. She’d mentioned something about that before. So she was new in town.Ifshe was related to Gray, that could be why Natalie hadn’t come up in conversation.
Within a few minutes, her breathing was labored, and I could tell she was in pain. But she didn’t say anything.
“Just keep in mind we have hills and cobblestone streets here.” I threw that out there. “Don’t compare this to a trek on the treadmill.”
Her smile was stiff. “I’m tryin’ not to.”
I liked her Southern accent.
If I remembered correctly, she’d lived in New York too—and her picture on the website sure as fuck screamed New Yorkattitude. Goddamn, it was a sexy picture. Right up my alley, where soft and sweet met fire and claws. That was my type.
Too bad she was a lesbian.
“I was thinking on Friday, we could meet up in Westslope and go for a quick hike,” I mentioned. “No mountain trails or anything.”
She exhaled a chuckle. “No mountains sounds good. I’m more at the level of flat pavement and handrails.”
Hm.
“I’ll dust off my hiking boots,” she added. “When and where do you want to meet up?”
“I’ll send you the address of a place called The Last Stop,” I answered. “It’s a café and gas station before the dirt roads take over. And we’ll stick to nine AM.”
We’d decided to be more flexible on Mondays; sometimes we’d meet up early, and sometimes, like today, later in the afternoon.
“Got it. What if it rains?” she wondered.
I side-eyed her. “We’ll get wet.”
She turned a scowl to the ground and absently rubbed at her lower back. “My daddy would cuss me out if he were alive to hear me complain about bad weather.” She puffed out a breath and wiped at her forehead. “I’ve become way too comfortable.”
That was a running theme in my field. Adults tended to grow lazy, especially if other aspects of their lives were hectic and too stressful.
I gestured for us to turn left up ahead, so we crossed the street when a car had passed.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
She made a face. “Embarrassing.”
She wasn’t the first of my clients who was self-conscious about that. Some even tried to hide that they were getting out of breath. Natalie wasn’t far off. She didn’t enjoy this for a second,which posed a problem for me. We were naturally geared to avoid what we hated, so I had to get creative.
