Chapter 17
Saturday morning, Jack woke early with restless energy coursing through his veins. Old habits from military life meant he was up before dawn, and lying in bed felt wrong. He pulled on workout clothes and grabbed his keys, deciding to head to the gym for a run.
He planned to call Rachel this morning, but felt like a workout would help him burn off the nervous energy coursing through him.
The front door chimed when Jack walked in, and he was immediately hit with the smell of rubber mats, disinfectant, and sweat.
The lobby was small but clean, with a check-in desk, a smoothie bar, and a wall covered in photos of local athletes.
Jack recognized several faces from his high school days, though most of the photos looked more recent.
A man emerged from the back office, broad-shouldered and thick through the middle in the way that former athletes often were. His hair was graying at the temples, and he wore a Bogdin's Fitness polo shirt that stretched tight across his chest.
“Well, well,” the man said, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Jack Hudson. Good to see you back in town.”
Jack extended his hand. “Mr. Bogdin. Good to see you too.”
“Martin, please. Mr. Bogdin makes me feel old.” Martin's handshake was firm, his grip lasting just a beat too long. “Heard you were in the Navy. How long you been back?”
“Not long, actually.”
“No kidding. Well, welcome home.” Martin gestured around the gym. “Know your parents must be glad.”
“Yeah.” Jack grinned. “Mom’s thrilled, and I work with Dad now.”
“At the sheriff’s office?” Martin’s eyebrows lifted, causing his forehead to crinkle. “Wow, that’s… um… wow… great. Just great.” He cleared his throat. “The first visit here is on the house. Let me show you around.”
Before Martin could move, a woman appeared from the office behind the desk. She was close to forty, blond hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, wearing workout clothes that showed off a toned figure. Her smile was bright and practiced as she looked Jack up and down with obvious appreciation.
“Well, hello there,” she said, her voice warm and silky. “I don't think we've met.”
“This is Jack Hudson,” Martin said. “Colt and Carrie's son. Just got back from the Navy. Jack, this is Cheryl Mason. She handles the administrative side of the facility.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jack kept his tone polite but not encouraging.
“Oh, the pleasure's all mine.” Cheryl's smile widened, and she leaned against the counter in a way that was clearly meant to be appealing. “If you need any help with anything, or need someone to show you around, you just let me know.”
“I wouldn't know what to do without Cheryl,” Martin said, seemingly oblivious to the flirtation. “She keeps this place running so I can concentrate on helping people with their workouts and training.”
“That's sweet of you to say.” Cheryl's eyes stayed fixed on Jack, her gaze assessing. “So, Jack, are you planning on sticking around Baytown? Or just passing through?”
“Sticking around,” Jack said. He could feel her interest intensifying, and he deliberately took a step back toward the gym floor. “Actually, I was hoping to get a run in. Mind if I use one of the treadmills?”
“Help yourself,” Martin said, gesturing toward the cardio equipment visible through the doorway. “Like I said, the first visit is free. If you decide you want a membership, come find me, and we'll work something out.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
Jack headed toward the main room, aware of Cheryl's eyes following him.
When he glanced back, he caught the tail end of an expression that made him pause.
Her smile had vanished, replaced by something sharper, almost calculating.
She was looking at him with narrowed eyes, seemingly unhappy that Jack had spent more time talking to Martin than responding to her flirtation.
The fitness center was larger than it looked from the outside.
Weight racks lined one wall, benches and machines filled the center, and a row of treadmills and ellipticals faced a bank of windows overlooking the parking lot.
About a dozen people were scattered throughout the space, most of them focused on their own workouts.
Jack scanned the treadmills and saw that several were occupied. One was available next to a woman with a dark ponytail, running at a good clip. Even from behind, he recognized her. He’d know her anywhere.
Jack grabbed a towel from the stack by the door and made his way to the empty treadmill next to her. He climbed on, set the speed to match hers, and started running.
It took her about thirty seconds to glance over at him. When she did, her eyes went wide and her foot caught on the belt.
Jack reached out instinctively, steadying her with a hand on her arm as she grabbed the treadmill's handles.
“Jack!” Rachel pulled out one earbud, her face flushed from exertion and surprise. “What are you—”
She hit the stop button on her treadmill and stepped off, nearly tripping in her haste. Jack stopped his own machine and jumped off, catching her just as she stumbled forward.
Rachel stood for a second, then stretched out her arm, hand extended.
From hugs to a handshake… Jack felt an ache in his chest, but took her hand in his. The familiar tingle he’d always felt at her touch was still there. And if her widening eyes were anything to go by, she felt it too.
He inhaled the familiar scent of her shampoo. He was hit with a mix of nostalgia and hope. Jack wanted it to mean so much more than friendship.
“I didn't realize you'd gotten home,” Rachel said, pulling back but staying close. “You didn’t say you were coming.”
Jack couldn't bring himself to break the contact, keeping her hand in his. “I didn't tell you,” Jack admitted quickly when he saw a flash of hurt cross her face. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“A surprise.” Rachel's smile was small, with caution in her eyes. “Well, you succeeded.”
“There was a lot to say and an email or text just couldn’t explain it all.” He glanced around the gym, then back at her. “I had no idea you’d be here.”
She scoffed lightly. “Oh, Jack. There are lots of things we don't know about each other.”
Her words could have sounded snarky, and he would have deserved the sentiment. But in true Rachel fashion, it was simply an honest comment, said gently. He couldn’t deny what she’d noted, but he definitely wanted to rectify the situation.
She shrugged, adding, “I joined the gym about a year ago. Helps clear my head. I try to get here early on Saturdays before the weekend gets away from me.”
“Yeah, same reason I came this morning. I had nervous energy to get out.”
Rachel scrunched her nose in a familiar gesture that made Jack's heart squeeze. “I didn't think you'd care about stuff like my gym habits and weekend routines.”
“No, it's okay.” Jack forced himself to release her, though every instinct screamed to pull her closer. “And you're right. There's a lot about us that we don't know anymore.”
“Yeah.” Sadness flickered across Rachel's face. “There is.”
“Do you want to keep running?” Jack asked, gesturing to the treadmills.
Rachel nodded, and they climbed back onto their machines, setting them to the same pace.
For the first few minutes, neither spoke, just ran in companionable silence.
Jack was hyperaware of her presence beside him…
the rhythm of her breathing, the way her ponytail swayed with each step, the occasional glance she threw his way.
Finally, Jack broke the silence only to find her speaking at the same time. “It's good to be—”
“When did you get—”
They both laughed, and he had to focus on not tripping over the way her face lit beautifully when she smiled. He always remembered that from the first time she'd smiled at him. “You go first.”
“I was just going to ask when you got home?” Her smile dimmed slightly, and he wondered if it was because she thought he hadn't planned on getting in touch with her.
“Just a couple of days ago. I started work and planned to call you after my workout this morning to see if you’d like to meet up.”
“And so we did, even if this wasn’t planned.”
He nodded, but hoped she didn't think that just meeting at the gym and running side by side on treadmills was all he wanted. He started to ask her out when she looked over at him and spoke first.
“So,” Rachel said finally, a little breathless. “Um... what have you decided to do? Now that your time with the Navy is over. Or… um… is it?”
Jack held her gaze while running, trying to read her expression. Was she just making conversation, or did his answer matter to her? Would she be happy that he was staying, or would it make her life easier if he left?
“That's part of what I was going to talk to you about,” he said. “How about we go to breakfast? Talk about it over food? Joe's Diner still slings the best breakfast in town, right?”
Rachel's smile was genuine, lighting up her whole face. “They do. Let me go home and shower first?”
“Same. I could pick you up.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she said, caution still on her face.
They slowed their treadmills to a cool-down pace, then stopped. Jack grabbed his towel, and Rachel collected her water bottle and phone. They walked toward the exit together, still close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
As they approached the front desk, Jack saw Cheryl look up from her computer. Her eyes tracked them across the lobby, her expression shifting from curious to something harder when she realized they were leaving together.
Jack held the door open for Rachel, and as they stepped out into the cool morning air, he glanced back. Cheryl was glaring at them through the glass, her jaw tight, her eyes narrowed with unmistakable displeasure.
Jack let the door close and turned his attention back to Rachel, who was pulling her keys from her pocket and smiling up at him in a way that made his chest feel too tight.
“See you in an hour,” Rachel said.
“Yeah,” Jack replied. “See you then.”
He watched her walk to her car, and as she drove away, Jack couldn't stop smiling. Whatever Cheryl's problem was, he didn't care. Not when Rachel had just agreed to have breakfast with him.
Jack hurried to his SUV, his heart racing and not from the run.
It wasn't much of a workout for him, considering he usually ran longer distances.
But he couldn't believe his luck. Running into Rachel, getting to spend time with her, and having a chance to meet with her instead of calling to ask her out.
As he drove back to his parents' house to shower and change, Jack felt lighter than he had in a long time. He was home. Rachel was here. And for the first time since he'd walked away from her that last time, Jack felt like maybe, just maybe, they had a chance.
He just had to make sure he didn't screw it up this time.