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I settled the notepad on a knee and started writing.
Dear Dakota…
CHAPTER 6
KIT
My calves burned, my breath short and sharp-edged, when Piper and I reached the end of the trail near my neighborhood. We’d done a two-mile circuit for the second time this week. I was trying to get into healthier habits now that I was nearing thirty and I couldn’t rely on good genes to do the work for me.
“Not bad,” Piper said. “We might get you in triathlon shape yet.”
The woman wasn’t even winded.
My laugh was more air than sound. “How is it that I’m the physical therapist, but you’re in better shape than I am?”
She whacked my arm. “Stereotype much?”
“Hey, at least I didn’t say anything about you being a woman!”
“Oh, so you’re not misogynistic. You’ve set a high bar, Kit!” She laughed, clearly not bothered by the teasing, and veered right. “See you at work Monday.”
I slowed to a jog, then to a walk, as I covered the last two blocks to my house. The sky was a deep dusky blue, and my crock pot meal would be ready to eat just as soon as I showered off the sweat. Dakota and Pogo were waiting for me inside.
Pogo was too old to go for these kinds of runs. We’d tried a few times, but he overheated too much. He much preferred playing fetch in our fenced-in backyard and occasional trips to the dog park.
The wind cooled me, and a shiver struck just as I spotted a figure by my mailbox.
“Hey!” I called.
He turned, eyes wide. What the—
“Joyride?” I jogged the last few steps to reach him. “What are you doing here? You could have called.”
Shit, I was sweaty and out of breath. Probably red-faced, too. Not exactly the sexy vibe I was hoping to impress on him the next time we met.
He didn’t answer, staring at me as if he’d seen a ghost. He held an envelope in a tight grip.
“What, you brought me a letter?” I teased. “Did your phone stop working? I thought you’d never call…”
I trailed off as I read the lettering on the outside of the envelope.
Dakota Willis.
“You know my sister?”
I was so confused right now. Why would Joyride show up here with a letter for Dakota? Why not mail it through the post office, or hell, email or text like a normal person?
Joyride thrust out his hand. “Can you give her this letter?”
I stared at the envelope, suddenly sure I didn’t want to know what was inside. I was too polite to leave him standing with his arm extended, though.
I took the letter. It was light.
Joyride turned to go as soon as it was out of his hands. I noticed his Hummer parked at the curb two houses down.
“Wait,” I called.
He broke into a run, not looking back. Well, shit. I hadn’t inspired that reaction in a guy in a while. Why hadn’t he ever called—and how the heck did he know Dakota?
