Page 109 of Savior

“Thank you,” I say, sitting and sipping my coffee immediately, letting it race for my neurons and blood.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, standing at the counter, eating his bagel, and sipping from a water bottle.

“You going for a run?” he asks, looking me over.

I nod. “I am. I’ll take one of the men with me.”

He shakes his head. “I’m certain they’ll love that.”

I shrug. “I need to exercise. My muscles feel useless since I haven’t been dancing.”

His eyes flare at the memories of me on the dance floor, most likely. I fight a smirk.

Torturing him in the private room was one of my favorite moments at work, if I’m honest, and I’d love to give him a dance where he’s not resisting me.

I lick the cream cheese from my lips and clear my throat.

Luca turns back around and finishes the rest of his breakfast in silence. I’m thankful.

I don’t knowhow far I run. All I know is that Rich isn’t happy about it. He trails behind in tactical gear, breaths heaving, and his heavy footfalls thundering over the small trail I’d found, likely a game trail.

“Are you alright?” I ask as I slow to a walk.

We’re headed back now, not because I’m tired, but because I don’t want to take the man out.

I smirk at the thought as he catches up, holding his side as if there’s a stitch in it.

“I’m fine, Ms. Sloane. Thank you for asking.” His words are snide, telling me he’s annoyed about being dragged out for a run.

He’s in good shape but not in cardio shape.

“How’d you get saddled with this job?” I ask him, trying to converse pleasantly as we head for the cabin. I feel bad. I didn’t realize how much he was struggling to keep up.

My mind had cleared after the first five minutes of running, and all I could do was relish in the burn of muscles heating and joints aching. It felt so good.

It’s what I needed.

“We volunteered to watch you. The boss said he wouldn’t force us to go, as the cabin is a world of its own, and some guys would go mad being out here.”

“But not you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. I thought it would be an adventure.”

His New York accent makes me miss home even more.

I pat his arm softly. “Well, thank you. Sorry, I made you run through the woods.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Seems I’m not in the shape I thought I was.”

I shrug. “Eh, you have, like, fifty pounds of gear on. Not entirely your fault.”

He smiles. His bright blue eyes contrast his dark hair and full cheeks, which are likely hereditary. He is tall and built for combat, but not running.

“Maybe I’ll need to train in my gear. You might’ve saved my ass by showing me how out of shape I am,” he tells me.

The cabin comes into view up ahead, and I nod toward it. “I’ll see you later, hm? You need any water?”

He shakes his head. “Our post isn’t far into the woods over there. I’ll get some myself. Have a good day, Ms. Sloane.”

---