We start at an easy pace, warming up as we head toward the trailhead at the edge of her property. I'm hyper aware of her presence beside me, the rhythm of her breathing, the light footfalls on the packed earth. I guess that good physical condition is a necessity in her line of work. Similar to mine, I muse.
The morning air is crisp and clean, carrying the scent of sage and chaparral. Birds call to each other from the scrub brush alongside the trail. Every time Jade's arm brushes against mine, I feel it like an electric current.
"So," she says after we've settled into a comfortable pace, "was this your idea or Ethan's?"
"Mine," I admit. "You needed to get out of the house."
"I noticed you've been avoiding me," she says directly, catching me off guard. "Since the gym."
My pulse stumbles. She noticed. I keep my eyes on the trail ahead. "Seemed prudent."
"Because of what almost happened?"
"Because it can't happen again," I correct her.
She's quiet for a moment, just the sound of our feet on the trail and our measured breathing. "I know," she finally says. "I'm sorry if I made things... uncomfortable."
"You didn't," I say, which isn't entirely true. "It was a mutual lapse in judgment."
We crest a small hill, and the path opens up to reveal a stunning view of the canyon stretching out below us. The morning fog still clings to the lower elevations, creating a dreamy, otherworldly landscape.
"God, that's beautiful," she breathes, slowing to take it in. "I've lived here for over a year and never knew this trail existed."
"Most people don't look beyond their own fences," I observe.
"Or they're too afraid to," she adds quietly.
We pick up the pace again, pushing harder as the trail climbs. Jade matches me stride for stride, her breathing controlled, her form strong. When the path narrows, I take the lead, and she follows close behind.
"You run often?" I ask over my shoulder.
"When I can," she replies. "It's not always easy to find places where I won't be recognized or followed."
"Followed by paparazzi or stalkers?"
"Is there a difference?" There's a wry humor in her voice that surprisesme.
"Fair point," I concede.
We reach a steeper section, and I instinctively slow my pace.
"Don't hold back on my account, Old Man," she teases, pushing past me with unexpected speed.
"Old Man?" I repeat, momentarily stunned by the playfulness in her tone.
"That's what Mateo calls you, isn't it?" She glances back with a challenging smile.
Something competitive flares in me, and I lengthen my stride to catch up. "Careful who you're teasing, sweetheart. I own this trail."
"Less talking, more running," she calls back, increasing her pace even further.
I find myself grinning as I push to match her. For a moment, we're not client and protector, not model and bodyguard, just two people racing up a trail, the simple pleasure of physical exertion burning away the complications that normally stand between us.
She holds her lead for an impressive distance before I finally catch her near the crest of the hill. We both slow to a walk, breathing hard as we reach the summit. The view here is even more spectacular. 360 degrees of canyon, ocean in the distance, the sprawl of Los Angeles barely visible through the morning haze.
"Worth the climb?" I ask as she takes it all in.
"Definitely," she says, eyes wide behind her sunglasses. She pulls them off, apparently unconcerned about being recognized up here where there's no one to see us. Without them, her face looks younger, more open. "I needed this more than I realized."
