Loathe at First Sight: A small-town enemies to lovers romance: The Lawsons: Book 1 (The Lawson's)

11. The Princess vs. Paul Bunyan

eleven

Jack

Another early morning—another early morning run.

It’s been almost a week since my run-in with Liz, and I’ve seen her every morning since apart from today. This morning, I’m starting to wonder if she picked a different time of day to get in her exercise. I’m not going to lie—not having her here feels strange. I’ve almost gotten used to her presence.

Although we don’t go out of our way to talk to each other, we don’t outright ignore each other either.

A few times I’ve caught myself looking at how good she looks in those tight leggings of hers. They perfectly show off her long legs and her little round ass. I try not to stare, but I catch glimpses here and there. If she’s going to be out here, I may as well enjoy the view.

And on more than one occasion, I have seen her staring right back. It’s not her typical look of disgust that she gives me. I see the way her eyes move up and down, looking me over. And when she runs by, I swear I see a little more bounce in her step.

I don’t think that there’s anything behind it. She’s probably doing it because she knows I’m looking and thinks it will drive me crazy or something.

Sure, she’s hot to look at. But it’s not that I’m so infatuated that I’m going to go home and rub one out while I think of her.

After all, she’s still Liz Lawson—spoiled brat extraordinaire.

I look down at my watch, seeing how much longer I have before I need to go home and shower to get ready for the day. The shop is booked solid, so I figure I’ll jump in and try to get through as much as we can. I started working on Liz’s car, but I’m waiting for parts to come in, so I can’t do much until that happens. Damn sports cars can be hard as fuck to get parts for especially when you live in the middle of nowhere.

I planned to give Liz that news this morning if I saw her, but I guess I’ll just tell Dylan and let him relay the message. I’m not going out of my way to track her down.

I decide to do one more lap around before heading back home. I push myself a little harder, moving my legs faster so that my feet hit the pavement at a steady pace. I feel my blood pumping through me as my heart beats quicker.

I’m so focused on my breathing and form that I’m startled when I see a figure run right past me. A whoosh of long legs and black curls fly by, and it takes me no time to realize that it’s Liz.

What the hell is she doing?

She turns around and gives me a devious smile. “What’s wrong? Can’t keep up, Paul Bunyan?”

Much to my dismay, I can’t help but smile. This woman is not supposed to make me smile. She’s supposed to repulse me. But she catches me so off-guard that I can’t help it.

And something else clicks inside me that tells me there’s no way I’m going to let this woman beat me in whatever kind of race she’s running. She will never let me hear the end of it.

Kicking it into high gear, I chase after her, doing my best to keep up with those legs of hers. It’s not easy, but I manage to match her pace.

We run next to each other as we weave through the trails. Each time one of us starts to pull ahead, the other quickly catches up. It’s a constant tug of war. As much as I wanted this time to be quiet and all for myself, something about this is kind of fun.

Although I will never admit that to Princess Liz.

When we are on the final trail that leads back out to the parking lot, I decide that it’s time to make my move. I’m going to pull ahead and smoke her right here and now. The trouble is that she has the exact same idea. Right at the last second, she kicks it into high gear and flies ahead.

Damnit. She’s never going to let me hear the end of this.

We slow to a stop in the parking lot and try to catch our breath. I haven’t been pushed like that in a run in a long time, and now, I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. It doesn’t look like I’m alone, though. Liz has the same exhausted look on her face.

“Good run,” I offer.

“How could you tell?” She asks. “I didn’t think you could see me from that far back.”

Oh, here we go.

To give it right back to her, I say, “I’m surprised you can run so fast with your nose stuck up that far in the air.”

I figure she’s about to completely shut down or go off on me, but instead, she just gives me a small smile. Maybe running makes Liz Lawson a nicer person. Who would have thought?

Before we go our separate ways, I say, “Oh, just letting you know I haven’t forgotten about your car. I did look it over and diagnose it.”

“Oh, okay. What was wrong with it?”

I start to give an in-depth account of what I found, but she holds her hand up to stop me. “Better yet, I don’t need to know.”

“Not very car savvy, huh?”

“Nope. To me, you sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.”

That gets a chuckle out of me. “I’ve ordered some parts, but I’m not sure when they’ll be in. I’ll keep you updated.”

“You know where to find me,” she says with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Before I can say another word, she takes off jogging back on the road leading into town. Meanwhile, I walk toward my truck to get in and drive back to my place, which happens to be an apartment above the shop.

Driving away, I try to leave any thoughts of her back on the trails. I don”t have time to think about her today.