5. Markus
CHAPTER 5
MARKUS
This is day two since I’ve seen him.
Not that I’m counting.
Who am I kidding? I’m absolutely counting. It’s been two long days.
Too long days.
I try not to fixate on how much I want to see Adam again. It seems pathetic to jog the same path with excitement bubbling in my chest, hoping for another run-in. Still, when Rufus and I turn the corner between the library and courthouse, I find myself desperately seeking him. Rufus, too, seems anxious to scent Drusilla in the air.
But there’s nothing, no one. Just empty sidewalk on this chilly fall morning.
Rufus and I pick up the pace. Last night, the weather changed when the first cold front of the season blew through town, and I switched from jogging shorts to my trusty gray sweatpants. You know, just in case. But, it’s not that cold yet, and I’m starting to sweat.
We should get back to the clinic. This is going to be a busy day, with the painters coming this morning, twelve patient appointments, and still no receptionist. I should place an ad in the newspaper, put a sign in the window, and?—
Shit!
Just as we’ve rounded another corner at the back of the courthouse, Rufus picks up his pace from a jog to a sprint. Before I realize what’s happening, I nearly faceplant as he drags me over to a very excited and very familiar dog.
My heart stutters in my chest as I stumble and barely stop myself before running right into the man I’ve been desperately seeking all morning. Adam awkwardly teeters as he comes to a stop—apparently Drusilla dragged him too—and smiles so wide I wonder if he’s been looking for me like I’ve been looking for him.
Rufus lets out a joyous bark at Drusilla, who’s doing a cute little ants-in-her-pants dance, and the whole scene has me grinning like a fool. I glance up at Adam as he turns his attention toward me, taking a none-too-subtle look, lingering on my sweats. I just about swallow my tongue when I notice he’s in gray sweatpants, too, and I can sort of make out the outline of his?—
“Hi,” he says, and I jerk my gaze up to a teasing smile pulling at his lips.
“Hey.” I try to play it cool but get stuck when I can’t think of anything else to say.
“What’s your route?” he asks, but before I can answer, he lifts the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe some sweat off his brow, and I completely lose my mind.
He’s built. Like… really built. I saw him strip down to his swim trunks the first time I laid eyes on him, and it sucked me in…er…I mean…captured my undivided attention. But that was from fifty feet away. Here, just a couple feet from me, within reach, his muscles look svelte, lean, and they shine with sweat?—
Shit. What was his question?
Oh right, my route. “I, um, usually jog down to the river and then up and around the high school and back.”
He nods his approval, then stuns me when he asks, “Mind if we join you?”
I blink down at Rufus, who is licking Drusilla’s face. My sweet boy is obviously in love. With a smile, I nod. “Sure.”
We turn together and head toward the river, where the trees change from red oaks and pecans to cottonwood and cypress. Down in the river bottom of the park, everything is shady and cold. The brisk air cools my sheen of perspiration and chills my breath, pricking my lungs with each sharp inhale.
It’s difficult to keep up with Adam. His pace is slightly faster than I’m used to, and he hardly seems winded at all. I guess as a firefighter, he’s in far better shape than, well, everyone else. But those guys have to race through fire while carrying people on their shoulders, so I can imagine this little jog of ours is child’s play to him.
Curious about his career, I find my voice between huffs of air. “How long have you been a firefighter?”
He glances over like he’s surprised to find me here, surprised to hear my voice after so long jogging in companionable silence. Shit. Have I ruined this thing we’re sharing?
I guess not, because he answers, “About ten years. I was a fire explorer as a kid but formally joined the academy after high school graduation.”
“A fire explorer?”
He nods. “It’s like a club where you learn about firefighting techniques and compete in the Fire Games each year. They have an obstacle course, bunker gear drills, tower climb… It’s pretty cool, and now I’m a sponsor of the local team.”
“So you’ve always wanted to be a firefighter?”
He considers for a moment, then nods again. “I guess I have. As a kid, you see the big red truck filled with heroes who are coming to save the day, and, maybe it’s an ego trip, but I wanted to be one of those guys.”
“A hero,” I say, and my voice sounds a little too wistful, like my breathlessness is caused by the handsome man beside me and not the fast pace of our run. It’s embarrassing.
Fortunately, Adam moves the conversation along with a question of his own. “What got you into animal medicine?”
“A hero complex,” I answer with a shrug.
Adam laughs, and God the sound of it.
I laugh a little too. “When I was eight, I rescued a bird with an injured wing and nursed him back to health. When he could fly again, he did, but he never went far, always coming back with little gifts. I felt a stronger connection with that bird than I felt with most people. So I started adopting pretty much every animal I met. When it came time to go to school, it seemed obvious what my calling was.”
“Nice. That’s really great.”
The admiration I see in his eyes when he says that means a lot. I barely know this man, but everything I’ve seen from him so far suggests he’s a stand-up person, and it means something to have his praise.
As we come out of the river bottom on the far side of the high school, he picks up the pace a bit, and I push myself to keep up. The dogs trot side by side ahead of us, seeming to be in heaven as they get exercise and socialization all at the same time. For Rufus, who had to leave his dog-park friends behind when we left College Station, the situation is a godsend. It’s pretty nice for me too.
Adam and I don’t talk much as we pass back through town toward my clinic. He’s finally starting to get winded, while I’m about to pass out from running this hard. Still, I’m proud of myself for maintaining the pace and my dignity.
“Have you been in there yet?” Adam asks and points to a cute little diner in one of the old buildings on the town square. The facade is brick with tall windows across the front. Just below the roof line, a stone block reads G.W. Eaton 1902. On the side of the building, the faded design of an old ghost sign reads Eaton Hardware, hinting at the building’s long retail history.
But now, a neon sign in the window indicates it’s Lavern’s Diner. Inside, the lights are warm, and clusters of people fill some of the booths, chatting over steaming cups of coffee and plates of warm food. My mouth waters.
“Not yet,” I answer.
“Don’t miss it. Lavern serves up the best breakfasts, and her chicken fried steak is second to none. Plus, they’re dog friendly.”
Never, not once, have I craved chicken fried steak. But the way Adam bites his lip and moans deep in his throat has me desperate for a taste. I clear my own throat and aim for a neutral tone as I say, “Good to know.”
Adam points out a few other spots: the barbershop he likes, an auto-repair place he recommends. His helpful tips blend together with the rest of my new-guy-in-town brain stew. The chances of me remembering all these details are slim.
When we reach the vet clinic, Drusilla and Adam stop to say goodbye to Rufus and me. Not sure what is appropriate in this moment, I reach out my hand to shake. Adam looks at it for a beat, then accepts my grip in his. It’s awkward. So, so awkward.
I try to think of something more to say, but Adam speaks first. “Maybe we’ll run into you two again tomorrow.”
With a grin and a nod, I answer a little too excitedly. “Definitely. We could meet here at eight.”
“Great.”
“Cool.” Well, shit, this is getting awkward again. Walk upstairs. Walk upstairs. Turn around and walk upstairs! My brain is insistent, but my feet are not cooperating, and my mouth has other ideas. “Maybe we can stop in at Lavern’s for some breakfast.”
Shit. Fuck. Did I just ask him out? This was just a jog. Two new friends jogging. And now, I’m trying to turn it into a meal? Dumb!
“Sounds great!” Adam stuns me when he smiles at the idea. “I’ll meet you here at eight.” With that, he starts to jog away. Drusilla is reluctant to leave, making herself into a cute little lump on the cool pavement beside Rufus, her tongue lolling out of her panting mouth. Adam turns, jogging backward in one spot as he smiles, whistles, and calls to Drusilla. “Come on girl! We’ll get to see them again tomorrow.”
Drusilla whines one last time, then gives in to Adam’s tugs. Rufus and I watch as they jog around the corner and out of sight. Only then do I gasp for air, pretty sure I’m going to vomit from all the exercise, or maybe from all the excitement.
Holy crap. We have a breakfast date tomorrow.