Page 45 of Paths

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Page 45 of Paths

We’ve just made the last bend and we’re getting close to her tiny house on Addy’s property. Since I’ve set my speed to hers, I can tell she’s picking up her pace. I wait for my moment since our path is a narrow one. As efficient as her footwork is, I don’t want to do anything to trip her up. I’d feel like shit if I won because she fell, even though there’s no way I’m not gonna win this race—not with our first date on the line.

When the woods open into a clearing, I see her house in the valley. I move away from her and let loose. The last four-tenths of a mile goes fast, I hear her close behind me, but as I near the end, I lengthen my strides and I know I have it locked up.

When I cross the drive where her compact car is parked, I slow and turn to watch her do the same. When we’re both stopped and facing one another on either side of her gravel drive, she puts her hands to her knees and breathes the word, “Shit.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday—date night.” My words come out quick while trying to catch my breath. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked out. “Be ready. I have plans for you and they don’t include a salad.”

Her head pops up at the word salad.

Her fair skin is flushed red from the cold and the run, but her light blue eyes flare, and I can tell she’s pissed. Only, I’m not sure what she’s pissed about.

“I’m gonna start running for time again,” she breathes, standing up and wiping her brow with the back of her forearm. “I hate losing.”

She’s pissed because she’s competitive. I close the distance between us and she holds her ground, her face tipping back to look at me as I get close.

Before I kiss her like I plan, she asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, but I’m good.”

She tips her head to the side and barely smirks. “I should be happy it’s sore since you beat me, but that wouldn’t be nice since you’re sort of my patient and you’re traveling all the way to Buffalo with me. And you’ve been kind of sweet.”

I step closer. “Kind of sweet?”

Finally catching her breath, her smirk turns into a smile. “Yeah. You’re like dark chocolate compared to milk chocolate. Or carrot cake as opposed to devil’s food with all the thick frosting.”

I lose my smile and mean it when I say, “Don’t call me a carrot cake. That’s rude.”

She grins broadly, taking a step back and throws her arms out low. “How about zucchini bread?”

“Now you’re just being cruel.” I move closer, making her take a few steps backward up her small porch.

She unzips a small pocket on her hoodie and pulls out a key. When she turns to unlock the door, she peeks at me over her shoulder and keeps talking shit. “Sweet potato pancakes?”

When she opens the door, I follow her in and watch her switch on some lights around the room. “What is it with you and health food?”

She tosses her key on the table and kicks her running shoes to the side before peeling off her sweatshirt. Between her leggings and compression shirt, it’s easy to see every contour of her body.

“I have a minor in nutrition.” She puts her hands on her hips and changes the subject. “So, this date tomorrow. What are we doing? I have to work in the tasting room all day. By the time we close and clean up, it’ll be late. I guess I should’ve clarified that when I accepted your wager, but I really thought you’d be eating a salad. I shouldn’t have let you keep pace with me for so long.”

“We aren’t seeing a movie and we don’t have a reservation. Whenever you’re ready is fine.”

She smirks. “There you go again, being a candied butternut squash.”

That’s it.

I advance on her and when I do, her eyes get big, but her smile remains. She puts a hand up to stop me, but I move it out of the way and back her into the wall. With my body pressed into hers, I bring one hand up to her slim hip and place the other gently on the side of her face.

When I lean in close, I lower my voice. “Do you know what I want?”

Her smile shrinks. “No.”

I lean in to kiss her so softly, her lips are barely a whisper against mine. “I want to be molten chocolate cake for you.”

She sounds confused when she breathes against my face. “You do?”

“I do.” I probably shouldn’t, but I press my groin into her stomach, not able to keep from getting hard when I feel her body against mine. Her face flushes, this time having nothing to do with the cold. “Warm and moist, with chocolate oozing out. Have you ever had anything so good?”

Knowing full and well we aren’t talking desserts any longer, she shakes her head twice. “Never.”


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