Footsteps pounded toward her, and then a man wearing a bicycle helmet and sunglasses bent over her. “You all right?” he panted out, pulling off his sunglasses and helmet and staring intently at her.
Summer blinked up at him. She must’ve hit her head really hard. Was it even possible that Channing Tatum had come to her rescue? She shook her head and blinked quickly. It couldn’t be the actor she’d daydreamed about from Dear John and The Vow. She’d even watched G.I. Joe movies to drool over him some more. This guy looked exactly like him, with the perfectly proportioned, manly face. There was a slight dimple in his cheek, even though he wasn’t smiling. His beautiful teal-colored eyes looked much too concerned. Wait. Weren’t Channing Tatum’s eyes more of a true green?
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“Not dead yet,” she muttered.
He chuckled, and that irresistible dimple got deeper. “Your back and neck aren’t hurt?”
She nodded, then shook her head, a bit awestruck. Was it really him? Crested Butte was a cool spot; maybe celebrities vacationed here. But wasn’t Channing Tatum married? Dang. She’d better stop ogling him.
Reaching a hand underneath her upper back, he gently lifted her to a seated position. Warmth spread where his hand lingered on her back. From the way her body reacted to that simple touch, she certainly hoped he wasn’t a married and/or a famous actor. She wondered if he was gagging at the sweat that had seeped through her shirt. Tempted to sniff her armpits, she could only hope Secret antiperspirant was doing a bang-up job and she didn’t reek too bad.
“Can you stand?” he asked in a deep rumble. He sounded like Channing Tatum too. Oh, wow. Maybe fate had stopped hating on her.
“I’ll give it my A game,” she said.
He laughed, kept one hand on her back, and took her other hand, helping her to her feet. He released her hand, but kept his palm on her back. For support, or was he feeling zing too? “You made it,” he said.
She stared into those greenish-blue eyes and sighed. “Yes, I did.” They stood there looking at each other for a few blissful seconds. She couldn’t resist asking, “Are you Channing Tatum?”
His deep laughter cascaded over her. He shook his head and said, “No.”
“Oh. You probably get that a lot?”
“A bit.” He grinned, and that dimple deepened.
Summer felt relief wash over her. Yay that he wasn’t Channing Tatum, because even though that would’ve been rocking cool to meet him, if he wasn’t the famous actor, that meant this guy was available. Oh, yeah. “So you aren’t married, right?” she demanded. Then her eyes widened. Oh my. Stop, mouth!
His chuckle was a little more awkward this time, and he pulled his hand back. “No.”
“Oh, good. I thought you were Channing Tatum and he’s married, so I was feeling all awkward that I was checking you out and …” Her face flared red as she finally clamped her traitorous mouth shut.
He smiled again and arched an eyebrow. “You were checking me out?”
“Whew. I think it’s time for my mouth to stop running and my legs to remember the action.”
“Wait.” He placed a warm hand on her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Summer had to think about it. She patted her lopsided ponytail, ran her hand over her scratched face, and cringed as she noticed some small cuts on her arms. “I think the permanent damage is a minimum. Why’d you run me off the trail?”
“Uh,” he kind of grunted out in what sounded like surprise. “I’m sorry. I came around the corner and there you were. I yelled twice and tried to swerve around you.” He glanced at the earbuds dangling from her neck. “Maybe your music was too loud?”
She bristled. “Maybe you should slow down or try using your own two legs for a change.”
“Whoa … What?”
She tilted her head to the side and her long hair brushed her arm. “You know what they say: Those who can’t run, bike.”
He gave another surprised half-grunt, half-laugh.
Summer flipped her hair, gave him a sassy look, and took off running down the trail. She didn’t look back to see if he was coming. Her left knee was aching. Did she slam it into the ground, or had his bike tire hit higher than she remembered? It was all a blur, and it really didn’t matter. She had to keep running and save some face. She didn’t want that incredibly handsome man to know that she’d give anything to be the one on the bike. Her opportunity to make good money and have incredible adventures with her best friend, Taylor, were gone, but she still had her pride.
Seconds later, she heard his bike approaching. Shoot. She increased her pace, but it was dumb to imagine a runner could outpace a bike. If she was going uphill then she might stand a chance, but this part of the trail was pretty level.
The biker stayed right behind her as she flew over the trail, ignoring him. Within a few minutes she was panting for air. She made a split decision and dodged off to the side of the trail, gestured for him to go past, and yelled, “Bike on through, oh high and mighty one!”
The man slammed on his brakes and pulled level with her. His helmet and sunglasses were back on so she couldn’t read his expression, but that attractive—scratch that, infuriating—smirk and dimple were in place. “High and mighty one?”
“All you bikers think you’re superior or something,” she huffed out. “I’ll have you know I’ve done both, and running is a million times more miserable. I mean, challenging.”
He took off the sunglasses, and she was happy to see those teal-colored eyes again. No, she was happy she could tell what he was thinking more easily. “I’d agree with miserable. Why don’t you bike, then?”
“None of your beeswax, dude. Move along.” She shooed him with her hands.
His smirk turned into an all-out grin. “I’m sorry, but I need to make sure you get home safe, seeing how I caused your injury and all.”
Summer planted her hands on her hips. She’d protected herself from handsome men in more countries than this yahoo knew decorated the world map. “Listen, buddy. I’ve got Mace and I am very proficient at using it.”
His eyebrows shot up again and he raised his hands. “Whoa. I’m not, no, I wouldn’t try to … do anything.”
“And I’m going to take the strange man’s word for that? I forgave you for knocking me down, but you try and follow me home, and you’ll see this tough woman kick your well-formed butt. Comprende?”
He laughed at her again, but quickly wiped the mirth off his face when she whipped her pepper spray out of her pocket. “Hey. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. My mother taught me to be a gentleman.”
“Big claim, preppy boy.”
“Being a gentleman?”
“For sure. Every guy claims they’re a gentleman until they get a chance to take advantage when a woman’s alone and they think she’s defenseless.”
“Sheesh.” He clung to his handlebars. “Defensive much?”
“You have no idea.” She raised the spray. “Now are you moving, or am I leaving you in a cloud of this?”
He shook his head and stood his ground. Hmm. He was a brave one, she’d give him that. “You go,” he said. “I’ll follow at a safe distance to make sure you get safely out of the woods. I promise I won’t follow you home.”
Summer took a deep breath and nodded. She was being a tad bit overcautious. He hadn’t really given off any vibes that he would hurt her, but she’d wised up over the last couple of years. She used to trust and have fun kissing any handsome man that came along, but she’d learned a woman needed to be wary and always have ways to protect herself. Luckily, she’d been able to protect herself, find help, or escape when the need arose.
“Thanks,” she muttered. She pocketed her pepper spray and took off running again, keeping a decent pace, and trying to ignore the fact that he was behind her. Several uncomfortable miles later, she exited the trees and could see the town of Crested Butte and the beautiful valley spread out below her. She’d com
pletely missed any amazing views she was supposed to see on the run. Dang that man’s good-looking face.
She went off the side of the trail and gestured him through again. The man stopped. What? Did he want her to thank him or something?
“Sorry about running you off the trail,” he said.
“It’s under the bridge,” she muttered.
He took off his sunglasses and his eyes swept over her face. She self-consciously touched one of the scratches that was stinging from her sweat. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m tougher than a few twigs,” she said.
“I can see that.” He smiled. “Could I … see you again sometime?”
Summer’s eyes widened. He was definitely hitting on her now. With his looks—and his money train, from the fact that his bike and gear were top-of-the-line—he could probably snag any woman he blessed with a second glance of those ocean-colored eyes. Unfortunately for him, she’d been through her share of handsome men and she was on a siesta. Her friends from Camp Wallakee would never believe it, but it was time. She needed to figure out how to be successful as Summer, not as some dude’s arm candy. Especially now that her own money train had been derailed.
“Um, no.” She smiled at him. “But thanks for asking. Try again later.” She tossed him another sassy look and ran off down the trail.
He pedaled up behind her. “How much later?” he asked to her back.
“You’re a tourist, I assume?” She loved pretending she was a local, having lived here all of two weeks.
“Maybe.”
“In town for a week?”
“Maybe.”
“Try again in two weeks, then.” She laughed to herself and took off running. If he wanted to stay behind her, that was his problem, not hers.
“I will,” he called to her back.
Summer shook her head and kept her pace up, even though she wanted to walk more than anything in the world. The trail went for another mile, and when it ended she turned onto the road that ran down past Mt. Crested Butte and into town. The guy kept a safe distance behind her on the trail, but when she hit the road he was gone. She glanced back and saw him stopped next to a Land Rover with another Yeti mountain bike already mounted on the back rack. Yep, the guy definitely had money. He turned her way and lifted a hand. She swung her eyes forward and raced down the road. It was tragic that she’d never see him again, but probably for the best. The new Summer wasn’t going to rely on anybody, especially not on a fine-looking rich dude. If only she knew how she was going to accomplish it.
Read more or purchase The Daring One here.
The Glamorous One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 15