Page 9 of Run for Us

“How do we get her there?” Ripley asks. “We can’t exactly kidnap her. This only works if she is willing.”

“Kennedy has passed on her number. He said the best way is to drop her the location.”

“Are we sure we want to do this?” Ripley asks. “What if she finds out it’s us and gets weird about it?”

Shore laughs—he knows what Rip is getting at. I once had a fling with a woman who was visiting town, and she got attached. I have a one-and-done rule for me and women in this town, even visitors.

“She has only booked for two weeks, and from what I know, she has a very well-paying job in the city. Women like her don’t stick around places like this.”

Kennedy sent me everything we need to know about her. Kinsley Ellsworth, twenty-nine. She works for Ellsworth Couture Collective, a company started by her great-grandfather. She has no known spouse and lives a fairly low-profile life for someone with her net worth, which has more zeros than we could ever hope for. Not to mention she is stunning and carries herself with a grace that most women could only dream of possessing. Her light-brown hair shines when the sun hits it justright, and her green eyes are full of depth—a wise soul, if I ever saw one.

“There is something about her. She seems lost.”

Rip’s ability to read people can be freaky. If she is lost, maybe this will spark some life into her. I can’t imagine wanting to be chased by strangers, but I’m not here to judge.

Shore shifts from his reclined position on the sofa in the foyer of the community hall to lay his head in Rip’s lap, where he’s kicked back on the other end of it. Rip absentmindedly runs his tattooed fingers through Shore’s hair, and I don’t even try to understand their dynamic anymore. Shore is the only person stupid enough to touch Rip without asking. I have witnessed Rip put grown men on their asses. He goes blank, almost void, like his soul is sucked from his body and he is just a shell.

I don’t know much about his life before Bluebell, as it was long before I moved here. Shore has mentioned it was bad, but not his story to tell.

“We have to conceal our identity,” I remind them. “It’s part of the contract that the client doesn’t see any markings that can identify us or hear our voices. This heat is going to suck covered in clothes, but I have ordered some which are lightweight. Once everything arrives, we are good to go.”

“I can’t wait to be in our own place. Imagine all the naked time we can have.”

I groan. I have known Shore long enough to not be bothered by his nakedness, butI prefer when he keeps his cockaway.He once got me to admit he has a nice dick, and I have not lived it down. I thought if I agreed, he would stop harassing me. I was wrong—very, very wrong.

As far as dicks go, I’m not attracted to them. I sure as fuck don’t want to touch them, but I can appreciate he is above average. Though he is the worst person in the fucking world to have been so blessed because he isn’t afraid to let it out.

“We won’t be having family naked time. That’s weird,” I reply, shaking my head.

“Not for us. I see Rip naked all the time.”

Rip smirks and tightens his grip on Shore’s hair, pulling it back so he is forced to look up at him. “Not everyone enjoys being naked.”

The door to the community hall opens, and we look over and see Kinsley nervously walk through. Her eyes roam over Shore and Rip, then move to me.

“Hi,” she whispers, as if she is intruding on a personal moment.

Shore jumps up and smiles widely at her. “We meet again, pretty lady.”

“It’s nice to see you with clothes on,” she says.

“Don’t get used to it, unfortunately—it doesn’t happen all that often,” I joke. “Are you here for the self-defense lessons?”

She nods. “I am. Sorry I’m early. It didn’t take long to walk here.”

“How’s your tattoo?” Rip asks, standing from the couch.

Both Shore and I stare at each other in shock. Who is this guy, and what did he do with our best friend?

“Great so far.”

He walks over to her, and when she lifts her loose shirt to show him, he runs a finger below the script.

Shore moves to my side. “What the fuck is happening right now?” he whispers.

My eyes widen when she laughs at something he says, and in slow motion I see her hand move to his arm. Shore must see it, too, because he is moving in a flash toward Rip, whose body tenses, but he makes no move to remove her hand.

My usual attendees roll in, and while some are more advanced than others, today we are going to work on basicdefense skills for women. Not that they would ever need that skill here in Bluebell, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge.

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