Page 50 of The Run Option

“Good morning, beautiful,” I say, keeping my voice low.

Her nose scrunches and I chuckle.

“Would you like some coffee? Or if you’re in the mood to commit a crime against society, there’s Diet Coke and limes in the fridge.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “I want to be mad at you for your teasing, but it’s sweet that you got my favorite drink.”

It makes it hard to hate you.Isn’t that what she said on that fateful night that was the catalyst to this moment right here? Looking at her now, standing in my–our–kitchen in blue silk pajamas, it’s hard to believe that night wasn’t so long ago. So much has happened since then, and yet I’m still unsure whereI stand with her. Willow trusted me enough to be vulnerable yesterday, and I can tell she likes me more than she lets on, but what does that mean in the long run? My mind feels like a ripped-open bale of hay. I don’t know how to sort out my thoughts and feelings.

“Jase?” Her voice brings me back to the present.

“Hm?” I hum as I come to.

“I asked if you had any sugar for the coffee. I don’t feel like committing any crimes today,” she teases, but her gray eyes are watchful. “What are you thinking about so intently over there?”

“There’s sugar in the cabinet above the coffee pot, same as the mugs,” I tell her, gesturing to the almost-full pot nearby. “And I was just thinking of the best way to show you around the property, if you’re up for it?”

“I’d like that.” Her smile is warm. I pretend for a moment we’re truly husband and wife, sharing early morning coffee and talking about the day ahead. Though if that were the case, I’d have thrown her over my shoulder and taken her back to bed as soon as she came out in those little shorts…maybe never left the bed at all.

I clear my throat, averting my gaze. “As soon as you’re ready, we can go.”

“Let me drink some coffee to feel less like a zombie, then I’ll change and be ready to go.”

“I’ll go get changed myself,” I say, not looking at her again.

I’m glad she’s going to change, though I know it won’t help. It doesn’t matter what she wears, I’m hopelessly attracted to her. And to further torture myself, I’m going to show her around on one of the four-wheelers. She’ll be pressed against me, but I won’t be able to do a thing about it. I could take the side-by-side, but I must be a masochist because I can’t pass up the opportunity to have her close to me.

Leaving her in the kitchen, I take my coffee cup to my bedroom. Once I’ve shut myself inside, I take my time pulling on my jeans and a long sleeve henley, then grab my boots and don my Stetson hat. Will I need the hat this early in the morning?No. Am I hoping that Willow’s love of horses indicates a love for cowboys?…maybe.

If I have to be tortured, I’m going to try to have her at least be tempted in return.

Chapter twenty-three

Willow Kingsley

I pull my hoodie over my head and make a face at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is…something else this morning. I rake a brush through the knots and scrounge through my toiletry bag for a hair tie before pulling it into a low bun. Probably should have done that before leaving my room. My stomach clenches.My room.The thought of owning something in Jason’s house has my head spinning.

I look myself over once more, wondering if I should wear something a little nicer or put on some mascara. I press a hand to my stomach.No. Why am I caring what he thinks of me? This isn’t real. In fact, I should feel free to walk around here in my rattiest clothes and a messy bun.

My nose scrunches up at the thought of Jason seeing me in my favorite t-shirt. It has a few holes in some places I wouldn’t want him to get a glimpse of.

With a sigh, I step away from the bathroom counter…only to quickly walk back and spray on some perfume. I don’t want tosmell bad. It’s not because of him, I’d do this no matter who I was with.Probably.

Before I give in to any other urges to beautify myself, I rush out into the living room. I almost trip over myself when I see Jason. Both of the French doors open, letting in the crisp morning air. He’s leaning against the doorframe, gazing out at the pasture. He’s got on jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and–Heaven help me–a cowboy hat. I’ve seen him in a sweaty football uniform, a suit, and lounge clothes. I thought all of those made my knees weak. But this look? It might rival them all put together.

He glances over his shoulder, his face shielded by the brim of the hat. “You ready to go? I want to make sure we have plenty of time before the movers get here,” he says, his voice still hanging on to that early morning rasp.

I swallow. “I’m ready.” Did I just squeak? I clench my hands in the pocket of my hoodie.Get it together, Willow. He’s just a man.

He smiles down at me as I come closer, his green eyes sparkling in the early morning light.A very, very attractive man.

“I thought we’d take the four-wheeler. It’s the best for getting around the whole property.”

I nod, then manage to say, “Sounds good.”

Jason gestures to the waiting vehicle, and it hits me how close we’ll be. I glance at him. Did he do this on purpose?

“I’ll hop on first, then you can,” he says after closing the back doors.

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