Chapter 11 It Was All Over
IT WAS ALL OVER
Her hand reached for her phone on Saturday morning, pushing the stop button on her alarm.
As much as she wanted to sleep in, the weekend was going to be when she could fit in the long runs she’d been enjoying along the Harborwalk.
She threw the covers back, walked the few feet to her bathroom, did her business, brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face and then grabbed her workout gear from her dresser.
Her six-hundred-foot apartment was damn close to a studio, just giving her a wall separating her bedroom from the living room. One dresser and a small closet were the only storage she had for clothing.
Good thing she only came with a bed, a couch, and a tiny table, because that was about all that could fit in the place.
She guzzled water quickly standing in her tiny kitchen that took up one wall, then put her phone on her armband, turned on her music, popped in her earbuds and laced up her sneakers.
Out the door in less than ten minutes, her two-block walk to the trail part of her warmup, then she took off on a jog past the Congress Street Bridge she walked over to work, then under the Seaport Bridge and around Fan Pier Park where there weren’t many out at seven in the morning.
A few dedicated walking or doing yoga on the grass. Later in the day there’d be public classes, but she wasn’t confident enough in her flexibility to join in that.
She looked at her watch, saw she’d been running for twenty minutes, then turned at the Boston Fish Pier and headed back on Seaport Boulevard, admiring the condos that she’d never be able to afford, before turning back to the Harborwalk for her run home.
She kept her eyes ahead, watching for traffic, not daring to glance sideways.
Until she did.
Like there was some magnetic pull she couldn’t resist.
A runner had just stepped onto the trail with a slow, easy jog, baseball cap low, earbuds in, tuned out from the world exactly like her.
Tall. Muscular. A fitted gray T-shirt clinging to broad shoulders, black shorts loose around strong thighs, red and white sneakers catching the sunlight with every step.
Her pulse stuttered. Her body quietly hummed.
His head turned as if he’d felt her watching.
She should have looked away.
She didn’t.
Because those light blue eyes found her instantly. Her boss’s eyes. Not the ones from Monday through Friday, but the ones that watched her in the casino over a month ago.
And when his grin broke wide, it was all over.
He jogged up beside her, tapping his earbud to mute his music. She did the same.
“Fancy seeing you out this early,” he said, his breath even. “Mind if I join you? Though it looks like you’ve been at it for a while.”
“Did the sweat running down my face give it away?” she asked between breaths.
Talking and jogging were not her thing. She usually let her playlist set the rhythm. Harder runs on bad days, lighter ones when she needed air. Faster tempo with the music and her feet matching it. Forty minutes, but the intensity could change.
That same wicked smile—the one from the casino and not the office—filled his face.
For a heartbeat, he wasn’t her boss.
She wasn’t his assistant.
They weren’t bound by job titles or expectations or all the invisible rules between them they’d agreed upon.
He was just a man out for his morning run.
And she was a woman who couldn’t stop remembering the heat of his body, the press of his hands or the way she’d finally let go that night.
It took everything she had not to let it show.
Because here, they were equals.
Kind of.
If she ignored the part where he ran a billion-dollar empire and she made sure chocolate was in his desk at all times.
“On your way back or just getting started?” he asked.
“Returning home, though I’m going to assume you live back there?”
One of those condos she was admiring. No shock to her if she really thought of it.
“I do,” he said. “And are you in the Seaport District, or crossing over on the Harborwalk?”
“If you run alongside me, you’ll see,” she said, grinning.
“Ahh, going to keep me guessing. I like that.”
This was the man from their one night, where he didn’t know who she was.
The one who bantered with her, made her body sing, then scared her enough to escape before they could talk again.
They were talking now. And she liked it.
Maybe way too much.
She waited a beat, tried to form her thoughts, then blurted out, “This probably isn’t smart.”
“What?” he asked with a half-smile. “Having a running partner? People do it all the time.”
“Is that what it is?”
He laughed. “Nora. Our feet are moving in sync. If you want me to speed up or slow down I will. But this is the direction I was going anyway. Your call.”
She was being ridiculous. They weren’t strangers.
Not even close.
“It’s okay. I guess, I don’t know. This whole thing is still taking me time to wrap my head around.”
They fell into a rhythm, their strides matching. She moved a little closer to him as they came up on runners in the other direction. Not tripping over the other, but as if reading each other’s moves, just like they had that night.
The push and pull. The pump and grind.
The arch and moan.
Oh God, she was so in trouble.
Why had she ever thought she could handle working for him?
Seeing him every day. Hearing his voice.
Not the teasing one from that night, but the calm, confident one that made everyone around him straighten up and listen.
He was respected. Not just for his name, but for the man himself.
She saw it. The subtle hum that rippled through people when he passed. The way they looked up, smiled and stood taller.
And here she was, trying not to melt beside him on a jog or trip over her own two feet and make a fool of herself.
“How so?” he asked. “We agreed to forget about that night.”
Only she couldn’t.
“Guess it’s easier for you,” she mumbled.
He laughed, the sound shaking her more than she thought it could. “No, it’s not.”
She turned to look at him, this time her foot caught, but she righted herself at the same time he reached for her.
“Sorry. I’m not a klutz.”
She picked up her pace. She needed this run over. Maybe ten minutes left and would be faster if her feet would move properly.
“I never thought you were. You’ve got too good of form. See, we’ll change it to something we’ve got in common. Running. Have you done it long?”
Okay, that she could handle. “A few years,” she said. “Running on a treadmill isn’t that great, but running outside with this view... I never knew what I was missing. I only got two days in last week after work, so I told myself the weekends were a must.”
“Sorry if I’m holding you back. I didn’t think you got out that late,” he said.
“It’s not you. Don’t think that. I’m just trying to get into a routine. I normally only ran five times a week, but walking to and from work daily, I’m still feeling as if I’m exercising. But you know, getting food, doing laundry. Still trying to figure the food part out more than anything.”
“How close are you to a store?”
“Fort Point Market is across the street from my apartment. I can grab quick things there. Trader Joe’s two blocks. Going there is better, but walking back with more than two bags is a pain.”
“The easiest thing to do is drive to a bigger store a few times a month, load up and use the other two for fresh or last-minute things. That’s what I do.”
“Whoa, you do your own shopping?” she asked, her smile bright, her breath coming in harder now. She didn’t think it had to do with the run either when he winked at her.
His elbow nudged the air toward her arm. “Who else is going to do it for me? Blair sure the heck won’t.”
She knew, because she’d asked. The closest Blair got to doing anything personal was lunch for Ethan and most times he’d ask her to order it, which Nora had done for other bosses in jobs before too.
That didn’t seem like a reach for her.
“I’d think you’d have it delivered.”
“I do at times, but I’m not always sure when I’ll be around or want to wait. Today is my shopping day. After my run.”
“Ethan Bond,” she said quietly. The fact that he had a hat on his head said he might not want to be noticed. “You have a food shopping day. I’m stunned.”
“I’m a person who has to eat just like you. My name doesn’t mean I’m snotty. My mother would have never allowed us to be that way.”
“I guess you learn something new every day,” she said.
“And as much fun as I’m having, I believe that’s your street up ahead.”
He obviously knew the location of the market that was across from her apartment.
“It is,” she said. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
“Anytime,” he said. “I mean it.”
“We might run into each other again... literally.”
He was jogging in place as she walked. “I’m sure we will,” he said, then took off while she turned onto her street, walking to cool down, though she was positive she was going to need much more than a short walk for that.
The minute she was in her apartment, she grabbed a change of clothes, turned the shower on cooler than normal, stripped and climbed in, letting the spray wash the tension and sexual frustration from her body.
An hour later when she was cleaning her kitchen after eating breakfast, her phone went off with a text.
Ethan. She’d given him his own sound for a text and call.
Her hand hesitated over the phone as if she thought it was a snake ready to bite her.
Silly reaction.
She picked it up and read his text, then burst out laughing.