loved this time of day; the still silence of the early morning, when it felt as though she was the only person on the planet. The scent of fall was heavy in the air. She glanced at Ean in her peripheral vision. Did he sense the magic of the early morning, too? A ghost of a smile touched his full, sexy lips.
“What are you thinking about?” Her question startled her. Why had she asked him that?
“The past. The path hasn’t changed much, except for these lamps.” He gestured toward a tree root. “I twisted my ankle on that once, before I learned to hop over it.”
“The town hasn’t changed much.” Megan returned her attention to the trail. “People come and eventually go. They rarely return.”
“Is that a not-so-subtle reference to my homecoming?”
“Maybe.” Megan’s fingers trembled to smooth his thick, arched brow and wipe the sweat from his forehead. She fisted her hands.
“The bookstore’s changed. A lot.”
“It needed to be modernized and expanded to survive.”
“Ramona’s changed, too. Business and politics had never held much interest for her.”
Megan struggled again with contradictory feelings for Ramona as mayor: pride that her cousin had accepted the responsibility when no one else would; relief that the town was better off now than it had been three years ago; frustration that Ramona was bullying the town into changes only she seemed to want.
Megan used the back of her wrist to wipe sweat from her upper lip. “And yet she’s launched her interior-design company and is running the town.”
Ean’s long strides picked up. Megan maintained her pace. Maybe his increased speed would carry him away from her.
Ean wiped the sweat from his chin. “I remember you following your grandparents around the bookstore. It was as though you were grooming yourself to take over for them. Did you major in business?”
Megan bit back a groan as Ean again adjusted his stride to hers. “I had a double major in business and accounting from the University of Illinois.”
Ean’s brows knitted. “Illinois is a good school. Ramona hadn’t mentioned that you’d gone to college out of state. I assumed you’d gone to Trinity Falls University, just as she had.”
“I got a scholarship.” With a wealth of relief, Megan nodded toward an old, curved tree several yards ahead on their left. “This is where I turn back. Enjoy the rest of your run.”
“I’ll join you.” Ean’s response was swift.
“That’s not necessary.” Megan declined his offer just as quickly.
“It’s still dark. I can’t leave you to jog home alone. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”
His words weakened her resistance. She fought hard not to give in. “Don’t cut your run short on my account. I’ll be fine.”
“I can come back to the park after I take you home.” And then he flashed his wicked grin. Deep dimples creased his cheeks. Hypnotic lights danced in his olive eyes.
Megan blushed at the direction her thoughts took. “All right. Thank you.”
They arrived at the tree with Megan just a half step behind Ean. In silence, they circled it, then jogged back the way they’d come.
Megan glanced at Ean’s strong, chiseled profile. Sweat molded the gray T-shirt to his pectorals. Her brain cells leaked from her ears. She kicked up her speed, anxious to end this torture.
Ean’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “What hobbies do you have besides jogging?”
“Why are you asking so many personal questions?” She tossed him a cheeky grin. “Are you going to ask my sign next? My favorite color?”
Ean laughed. “I only want to get to know you better.”
Her stomach seemed to drop. “What are your hobbies?”
Ean was silent for a moment. “I don’t think I have any others. In New York, all I did was work and run.”
She was angry for him. That wasn’t a life. “Reading. I like to read.”
His chuckle strummed the muscles in her lower abdomen. “Your face was always buried in a book.”
“And you, Darius and Quincy were always arguing over comic books.” Her blush was becoming a permanent condition.
“We weren’t arguing. We were debating.” His eyes warmed as they shared the memory.
Megan exhaled in relief as her grandparents’ house—now her home—came into view at the end of the block. “I’ll race you.”
She issued the challenge to mask her desperate need to escape him. Ean laughed as he pulled away from her. A latent competitive streak stirred to life inside Megan. She dug deeper, raising her knees and pumping her arms, straining to keep up with him, hoping to pass him.
Her gaze dropped to the fine, firm muscles of his derriere. A thread of an idea sewed into her mind. Megan reached forward and grabbed the waistband of his black gym pants. Ean came up short. The surprise stamped on his copper features was comical. Megan laughed as she sprinted past him.
She tapped the sycamore tree in front of her home and threw her arms above her head. “I won!”
Ean slowed to a stop beside her. “You cheated.”
Megan was breathless from exertion and giddy with victory. “That wasn’t cheating. It was strategy.”
Ean’s eyes dipped to her mouth. “It was cheating.”
His voice was a low, wicked rumble. Megan sobered. Ean’s head drew closer. His scent—sweat and musk—clouded her thoughts. The burgeoning heat in his eyes rendered her motionless. This moment was her young girl’s fantasy, but his nearness stirred every inch of her woman’s body. All she knew was his heat, his touch, his eyes. And all she wanted was his taste.
CHAPTER 7
Ean leaned closer. Too close. His movement wrenched Megan from her trance.
She staggered backward—away from the sycamore tree, away from Ean. Away from temptation. “Excuse me.”
She stumbled up her walkway, tripped up the five redbrick front steps and fumbled into her home. With shaking hands, she relocked her door before collapsing against it. Her legs felt like water balloons. Her heart galloped like a startled horse. What had just happened?
Gripping the doorknob, Megan leaned toward the smoked side window on her right and spied on Ean. Her breath caught in her throat. He was still beside the tree. His long, lean body stood in profile as he stared at the sidewalk. Unobserved, she could allow her gaze to touch every inch of his hard, muscled form. Loose-fitting black running pants covered long, strong legs and lovingly cupped his tight glutes. His sweat-stained gray jersey molded his flat abs
