Dishing It Out. Molly O'Keefe
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Tess gave up. “Pretending last night didn’t happen is way more awkward than acknowledging it.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” he muttered.
“Well, maybe it’s just as awkward, but you’re being too weird. I can’t take it.”
“How am I being weird?”
“You’re staring at a light fixture.”
His frown deepened and he purposefully moved his gaze to her. And, zowie, she needed to stop dwelling in Attraction Land. But his eyes were all light brown and mesmerizing and...
Briefly, his gaze dropped, not to the floor, but more like boobs, floor, then quickly back to her face. Wait. Had he just checked her out?
Oh, they were in some trouble.
Focus on the running thing. Now. “I usually run down the waterfront then up the bluff. There’s a path, pretty secluded without being creepy and a nice view.”
“That’s got to be at least four miles.”
“Run until your legs fall off.” She forced a sassy smirk. “Surely you can handle it?” Because there was no doubt about Marc being in fantastic shape. His T-shirt was loose enough in the stomach area, but around those arms? And the shoulders, perfect for snot crying?
Yeah, she had ample view of his shapes.
She seriously, seriously needed to cool the heck off. “You’re welcome to follow along if you want. Unless four miles is too many for you.”
Again he did the little boob-floor-back-to-face look, and if she wasn’t totally warped, she could swear his cheeks were a pinch pink. As if he was blushing.
Anyone else, she might adjust her sports bra right there and give him something to really blush about. But no cops. Especially not ones with marshmallow centers.
“All right,” he finally said, gesturing toward the door. “After you.”
She forced a sunny smile and sauntered out the door. No, she wasn’t sauntering. She was walking. Like a normal human being.
Swaying those hips like you want him to stare at your ass.
Okay, that, too. She kicked her leg out behind her, pulled her toes up to her butt. “Do you stretch beforehand?”
When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw him still standing in the doorway. Until the door smacked him because he hadn’t been paying attention. You will not bend over and touch your toes. You. Will. Not.
But, oh, it was tempting. A hell of a lot more fun than trying to run her conflicted thoughts about Dad away.
But also way more dangerous. She wasn’t into danger. She was into finding a way to build some kind of stability in her life.
Ha. Ha.
Marc stood to her side, where she couldn’t really watch him stretch. Which was probably by design.
They stretched in silence, and it was hard work to maintain the silence. Just like she couldn’t stand his weird awkwardness, she was no good with his distancing silence.
She was no good with all of it. Maybe you’re just no good.
“Ready?” she asked, eager to run that asshole voice in her head to the ground.
* * *
TESS’S PONYTAIL BOUNCED. She bounced. Every spandex-clad inch of her. This was some circle of hell. Run with the hot woman in spandex who is your FTO and also going through emotional shit you want nothing to do with. Circle five? Had to be higher than that.
Once he’d tried to get ahead of her, but she’d taken it as a challenge and never let him pass.
So he had to run behind her on the narrow path and try to focus on trees and shit. They’d run down the waterfront and up the bluff, and Marc slowed as a familiar house came into view.
“Don’t tell me you’re running out of steam.”
He looked at the big fancy house along the bluff. He’d only been here once, and it had been a weird visit. Christmastime. Mom harassing Leah and him stepping in. One of those rare moments with Leah when he couldn’t hold on to his usual detachment. “That’s where my sister works.”
“Oh, yeah?” She stopped her running, bending to one side and then the other. Spandex. Ass. Breasts. Spandex. Fucking damn it.
“Are you going to stop by and say hi?” she asked, completely unfazed that he was dying.
Saying hi to Leah was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. Scratch that, the last thing he wanted to do was keep jogging with an erection because Tess’s ass in those spandex running pants was not fair.
Life was not fair.
“Yeah, um...” How did he phrase this so he made it clear that even if he did go say hi to Leah, he didn’t want Tess tagging along? Doing it alone was bad enough—adding this woman to the mix had disaster written all over it.
“I’ll go up to the top of the street, turn around. If you’re not done by then, I’m sure you’ll catch up or I’ll just see you later.”
“Yeah. Great.”
She bent backward, fingertips splayed across her back, then bent farther, giving him an ample look down her shirt.
Abruptly, he turned toward MC Restoration’s office. He wouldn’t go to the big house—not all sweaty and...other things he was denying.
He’d knock on Leah’s little workshop door, hope to God she wasn’t there, and be on his merry way. Far away from the sight of Tess in spandex.
He refused to look back at Tess as he strode through the backyard of MC. He was focused on his destination. On safety. He knocked, held his breath and hoped no one answered.
“Marc?” Leah’s eyes were wide as she opened the door. “Hey, is everything o—”
“Yeah, yeah, good. I was just out...running.” He gestured toward the ring of sweat around his shirt collar. “Passed by and thought I should say hi, I guess.”
Leah blinked at him, but then she smiled.
Which was conflicting. A part of him felt as though he should be making bigger strides in the big brother department. Trying to figure out some relationship they could have or maneuver that wouldn’t be all heavy with what came before.
But Leah had spent too long as the driving factor of his life. Spending days on end in hospital waiting rooms, scrimping so Mom and Dad could pay off her medical bills, listening to bickering and arguments, trying to tread the waters of his parents’ separation.
Then, when they got back