“So you’re sweet on me how? Like a sister?” Suddenly, she was sweating.
“That’s not what ‘sweet on’ means. Nobody’s ‘sweet on’ their sister.”
“But you have a thing for Cici.” Sunny rubbed her sweaty palms down the front of her pants. “You always have. You even said so recently, back when we first found the pups.” Sunny pointed at him, like she’d caught him in a lie. “I said you had a thing for Cici and you said, ‘A little bit.’”
“Yeah.” Pete shrugged. “A little bit. But with you, it’s a lot.”
Silence passed. Their gazes locked and didn’t waver. Sunny had looked into Pete’s eyes so many times, but not once had she noticed this. Had it always been there? This tension? This ache?
“You’re messing with me.” Sunny’s voice seemed thin and high.
“My crush on Cici was always the kind I could show. My crush on you is the kind I don’t want anybody to see.”
Sunny became aware of her shifting feet only after Pete glanced down at her sandals. The world felt unreal and unstable all of a sudden.
“Look, Sunny, I’ve been around you guys a long time. Like, all my life. I’ve watched you grow and turn into women. I’ve watched you go from little backwoods thugs who could build a tree house better than any boy to taller backwoods thugs who steal dogs from abusive owners. I’ve seen Cici get her heart broken and I’ve seen you break about a million others. I’ve seen how your father raised you tough as nails and what good and bad came from that, and I’ve seen you both break in half when he got cancer and died. I’ve seen it all. I know you in and out.” Pete paused and drew a deep breath. “Friendship like that doesn’t come around every day. Women like you two don’t come around every day. I’ve never wanted to muck it up by pushing for more.” Pete stripped off his baseball cap and swiped his forehead, like he might be sweating, too. “But dammit, Sunny. With you, I want more.”
“You know—” Sunny’s voice came out sounding less joking than she’d intended “—if you kissed me, you’d probably feel like you were kissing your sister.”
“Well.” Pete tossed his cap on the couch. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Sunny swallowed the giant lump that’d formed in her throat. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she laughing this off? Why wasn’t he?
“Unless you feel like you’d be cheating on the cop. You just said it wasn’t serious, that you’re not dating. But if it is...”
“It’s not.” It wasn’t for her. Was it for Sean? After this morning, she wasn’t so sure. Still, they had no promises, no exclusivity. What harm would come from kissing Pete, then dissolving into laughter when they realized how silly they’d been?
Pete smiled at whatever expression arrested her features. “C’mon, Sunny Skye.” He took her hands and drew her in, against his chest. “It won’t be so bad.” He pushed the hair back from her face, his fingers calloused and knuckles bruised from all the outdoor work.
Sunny was suddenly aware of all of her body parts, like she was a million pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She didn’t know where to put her hands, so she just rested them on his biceps, which were firm. Images of Pete last summer, in a T-shirt, sleeves rolled up and sweat on his brow as he built a new structure for his dogs, flashed through her mind.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Sunny whispered as he drew her closer and his breath passed over her lips. She’d never fantasized about Pete in the past, not even as a teenager. He’d always just been Pete. Good ole Pete. Or, as Cici said, Pesky Petey.
He didn’t feel like that now. He didn’t feel like a comfortable shoe or a pesky neighborhood boy. He felt warm and arousing, the nearness of him getting in Sunny’s blood and under her skin. Maybe he’d been doing that for decades, and only now was Sunny realizing just how much of him she’d absorbed.
His fingertips were on either side of her face, gentle, like the way she’d stroked his beard. “Last chance,” he whispered.
Any reply Sunny had was swallowed up in the sensations that enveloped her body once Pete’s lips touched hers. Her words melted and her body dissolved against the soft tease of his mouth and tongue. His kiss wasn’t greedy or forced, but drew her in, an invitation to peek inside, to know him differently. She felt different layers of him come alive beneath her touch. Some were familiar, but heightened, such as the tender and selfless man who spent his time working tirelessly for others. And some were strangers, the owner of deep desires kept under careful control for a long, long time.
Sunny’s knees buckled, and she held fast to his arms. Pete slid one around her waist to steady her, then kissed her once more, soft and deliberate. He drew back slowly. “Well, I don’t have a sister,” he said, his breath ragged. “But I don’t think kissing her would feel like that.”
Sunny touched her fingertips to her cheeks, then her lips. Her heart thundered in her ears. Only one thing was going to happen if she didn’t leave, right this second. “I have to go.”
She expected Pete to get angry or ask her a million questions, but he only gave that half smile. “Was it that bad?” he said. “Or was it that good?”
“I have to go,” Sunny repeated, the words coming too quickly. She grabbed her purse, didn’t even pause to pet the puppies and bolted toward the front door.
Behind her, coming through the raging pulse in her ears, she heard Pete say, “Okay, Sunny Skye. You know where I am.”
twenty-eight
By the time Constance arrived at the gym, she was both relieved and dismayed to see Rhett’s Jeep parked in his favorite far left corner of the lot. It’d taken her forever to get dressed and get herself here, and she was twenty minutes late.
Constance approached the Jeep and found Rhett sitting in the driver’s seat, eyes closed, window down, a classic rock station playing on the radio. He wore a blue T-shirt with the Semper Fit logo and had a clean-shaven face. She reached in to shake his shoulder and he caught her wrist just before she touched him. He squinted at her through the sunshine, sighed and let her go. “You’re late.”
“Sorry.”
Rhett got out of the Jeep and stretched. He put his hands on his hips. “You good to run?”
Constance spread her arms open. “I’m here.” That was the closest she’d come to agreeing. “How about you?”
“I’ve been here.”
“You look tired.”
He stopped short of saying something, probably I’m always tired. Truth was, he’d learned to function quite well on too little sleep. Constance knew what that looked like, and Rhett was a master.
“You’re a little overdressed,” he said. “It’s already sixty-nine degrees. You know as well as I do that means it’s going to feel like eighty once we get moving.”
Constance looked down at her joggers and oversize T-shirt. She touched her hair when she saw Rhett eyeing her sloppy bun. She hadn’t wanted a ponytail and loose wasn’t an option, so she’d done her best to twirl it up into a knot. It kind of looked like a frayed pincushion. “I’ll be okay.”
Rhett looked skeptical but didn’t press the issue. “I figured we’d run the sidewalks up and down the main road there.” He pointed to the road behind the gym. “I’ve run it many times. You can go seven miles out before you run out of sidewalk. That’s fourteen if we go out and back. Obviously we won’t run that far today.”
Constance smiled. She hadn’t talked in runner’s speak in ages.
As they walked through the parking lot and alongside the building, Rhett sketched out his plan. “Since we’re running along a main road, there’s a lot of traffic. But it’s a good way to get your legs back without too many hills.”
“Hey,” she said as they climbed down to the sidewalk. “I was thinking about your nickname. Does anyone ever make Gone with the Wind jokes?”
Rhett actually did a double take. He’d turned to scope out the traffic bu
t looked back to her quickly. He was smiling with his eyes. “Are you stalling, Stanzi?”
“No,” she lied. She grabbed her ankle, pretending to stretch her quads as she bent her knee. “I’ve just been meaning to ask you. I never did find a way to shorten your name and it got me thinking. If anyone ever makes jokes.”
“I’ve had a few people over the years call me Butler,” Rhett admitted. “But the joke’s on them, because that’s my middle name. My mother’s maiden name is Butler.”
“Your name is Rhett Butler Santos?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with that, Morrigan?” He poked her in the chest. The smile in his eyes had melted down to the corners of his mouth. Clean-shaven? Five-o’clock shadow? Beard? Didn’t matter. He was striking, any which way. It was like getting different flavors of your favorite dessert.
Constance felt stupid just staring at him. But not stupid enough to run yet. “I don’t think I ever apologized.” Now was as good a time as any, and it was long overdue.
Rhett didn’t insult her intelligence by asking for what. He did look out at the traffic again, like he was either searching for or hiding an expression. When he faced her, he just shrugged. “I understand why you kept it to yourself.”
“I’m not sure I’m sorry I kept it to myself,” Constance clarified, “because I’m not sure I could have done anything different. But I am sorry I hurt you. I know what it’s like to lose trust. And I never meant that to happen. You were never part of a bargain.”
“Well—” Rhett tilted his head from side to side, like he was shaking her words around “—I appreciate that.”
Constance nodded. “So.” She squeezed her hands together, then stuck one out. “We’re good?”
Rhett glanced at her attempt at a handshake, then ignored it and took off at a warm-up clip. “Yeah,” he called over his shoulder, “we’re good. C’mon. Move your ass!”
“Hey!” Constance started running after him. “I wasn’t ready yet!”
Rhett turned around, so that he was running backward. He smiled, wide and unmistakable. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
* * *
They didn’t need to run a great distance today, or any day, really, to get ready for the running they did in the gym workouts. He didn’t think he’d ever programmed anything more than a 5k. All Rhett wanted to accomplish was getting Stanzi on her feet again. Any short distance would do, but despite her year off, her body was going to quickly remember all those miles she used to put in. It already showed when she did the high-intensity workouts at the gym. She might not be able to lift as much weight or do as many of the skills as the more experienced, but her engine was strong. Rhett was never worried about Stanzi being a quitter. He figured a relaxed 5k was all she needed today.
Rhett kept her on the inside of the sidewalk, away from the traffic. She had a quick pace, which didn’t surprise him. Her form was good and she knew how to breathe, how to negotiate traffic so she didn’t lose her stride nor get plowed over by a semi.
But she’d made a classic rookie mistake that no seasoned runner would: she’d overdressed. By mile two, which Rhett had let slip by without remembering to turn around at the half mark on his GPS watch, Stanzi was panting like a husky in the desert.
She didn’t complain, though. She just kept going, her cheeks on fire and sweat flying from her face to the pavement. Then she started tugging on her collar, mopping her face with the hem of her shirt, gasping a little bit. She must’ve finally had enough because she stripped her shirt over her head and stuffed it in the waistband of the back of her pants. Beneath, Stanzi wore a red sports bra that was supportive but still couldn’t completely contain her generous chest. There was no longer much excess around her middle; she’d built muscle and dropped resting body fat at the same time.
A loud, double-tap honk rang out from a utility truck that flew by. A man in the passenger seat leaned out the window and whistled. Stanzi’s pace slowed. She petered off into a walk and veered into a shady area, next to a kids’ playground. She chose an empty picnic table beneath a large maple tree, sank to the bench, clasped her hands between her knees and rested her elbows on her thighs. She leaned forward, the sweat dripping from her forehead, and cursed softly to herself.
“Why’d you wear these winter pants?” Rhett sat down next to her, wishing he’d brought water. Another thing seasoned runners didn’t do was carry water during a 5k.
Stanzi gasped a short laugh. “I don’t know. Actually, I do. I think it’s as simple as not wanting to wear running shorts. Every time I think about running, including the eight hundred meter the other day at the box, I think about the day I went to surprise my fiancé on the running trail and found him running with someone else.”
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Josh and I met on that running trail. In Greenview Park actually. During a Turkey Trot. We were using each other as a pacer all throughout the race. At the end, when I beat him by ten seconds, he asked me out.” She smiled at the memory. “We were together for three years, but...” She twirled her forefinger. “After my dad got sick, I had little time or energy for running. I got slower and slower and more and more out of shape. Josh withdrew. Told me I was making excuses. But running was such a large part of our relationship.” She shook her head. “Too large, I realize now. After Dad died, I realized I needed to dig myself out of the hole I’d let myself sink into. I went to the park to surprise Josh. He was such a creature of habit, I knew exactly what trail he’d be on. I knew I’d find him there. What I didn’t know was that she would be there with him.” Stanzi’s voice got softer, almost dreamy. “It was her legs. Her bare legs in those running shorts. Slender to a fault. Easy to move for distance. She looked like I looked, once upon a time. Josh was pretty much dating me again...or the person I had been when he met me. The person I no longer was.”
Rhett leaned back, elbows on the picnic table. He knew this was a moment when speaking less and listening more was the right thing to do. He stared out at the playground, a few yards away, and enjoyed the breeze cooling the sweat on his face. The equipment was covered in screaming children. Young moms, a few dads and a handful of grandparents followed them around, from slide to monkey bars to swings. The trash receptacles were overflowing with junk food wrappers, fast-food containers, apple cores and banana peels. Birds and squirrels pecked at the spillage on the ground. The chatter going on around them was one hundred percent parental: “Decker, stop poking your brother!”
“Hey, my kid was playing with that!”
“Good job, Buddy! You climb that all by yourself?”
“I didn’t stop because of the pants,” Stanzi admitted. “It may sound weird, but it was the honk. And the whistle.” She shook her head. “I know it sounds dumb. But after I gained weight and Josh ditched me for a newer, slimmer running partner, all I wanted was to be that woman again. The sexy, skinny chick that got Josh’s attention. But then, when I was honked and whistled at just now, I was ashamed of myself that I had ever wanted to be a certain way for Josh. It’s bad enough we have to dwell on our appearances every single day, for every little thing we do. We have to ask ourselves, every time we go out for a run, should I wear this? Are my shorts too short? Is my bra pushing up my breasts too much? If I run this way, rather than that way—” she gestured with her hands “—will I get more or less catcalls? And, when I do, should I be nice and smile and wave? Or should I flip the middle finger? If I do that, what are the odds someone comes after me? What are the odds they’ll come after me if I smile? Am I a bitch if I ignore them? A slut if I whistle back? Why do I even care? Why am I measuring myself, my beauty and my worth by how skinny I am or how many catcalls I get? And it’s not as though catcalls are even compliments! Just a comment on women existing. And what if I just don’t feel like dealing with all that shit? What if I just want to run in peace?” Her voice rose in pitch by the time she sputtered her last ques
tion.
Rhett kicked up some dirt with his shoe. He’d always found Stanzi brave, beautiful and sexy, both when she started at Semper Fit and now, her resting body fat having little to do with the equation or his attraction.
“I know I just went off on a tangent,” Stanzi admitted with a rueful smile. “But I guess what I’m trying to say is, I dressed like this today because I didn’t want to have to care how I looked while I ran with you. Josh clearly wanted to run with—to be with—a woman who looked a certain way. I wanted to run with you while looking as frumpy as possible. And then the honk reminded me of everything that I don’t want defining me anymore.”
Rhett tried to keep silent, to stay neutral, so that Stanzi would keep letting it all out, getting rid of it, making sense of it. But he felt himself smile, just the littlest bit.
Stanzi smiled back. “You’ve never had to plan your outfit before a run, have you?” Her question wasn’t accusatory, just curious. She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You’ve probably never even thought about what you wear to work out. And I bet you can count any catcalls you’ve gotten on one hand, which has nothing to do with how attractive you are. It’s just different for you. Different rules. Same world.”
Rhett stared out at all the kids, running, screaming, jumping, their lungs bursting in the sunshine, their voices exploding against the blue sky. He rested his hand on Stanzi’s back, right above her bra strap, on the sweaty skin between her shoulder blades.
She didn’t flinch.
They sat like that for a while. In the silence that passed, one kid fell off the top of the slide, but hopped right back to his feet, despite his mother’s horror; another kid got yelled at for spitting on another boy, and a football landed at Stanzi’s feet. She picked it up and winged it back to the teenagers who were tossing it around while they watched what must’ve been younger brothers playing on the seesaw. Damn. Good arm.
Rescue You Page 26