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The next morning,Taylor rose early, donned a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt that read “Designers Do It with Style” and then took off jogging. Last night, she imbibed a bit too much pinot and lost all sense of willpower gobbling down dark chocolate truffles like they were the last ones on earth. She woke feeling bloated and all around icky. Now, she was in full redemption mode, promising her body a healthier day. Water would be the drink of the day. And black coffee.

Morning sunshine beat down to warm her bones and she pushed her sunglasses onto her nose as she began to jog along the sidewalk, Coop’s warning ringing in her ears. This time she headed toward town drinking in the puffy-cloud sky and fresh morning air as she jogged along Main Street. She was feeling better already, her stomach unclenching and her head clearing. As she neared Char Pie, the local pie house, the sound of a truck’s engine purred behind her, its presence on the street giving her pause enough to glance back. There she found a red truck slowing, matching her strides, and its owner behind the wheel wearing a wide grin.

Coop stuck his head out of the window partly. “I see you’re taking my advice. Sidewalk running.”

“Have to. Rumor has it there’s a crazy truck driver on the road. And he stalks joggers.”

“Stalks?” He laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

She laughed too. It was a pretty outrageous statement and she stopped in her tracks. She was feeling too good about her progress to let Coop ruin her day.

He parked his truck on the street in front of her and got out.

“What are you doing here?”

“You mean, aside from stalking you?” His smile could charm the devil.

She gave her head a tilt, trying to ward off the butterflies flapping around in her tummy. “So, you admit it.”

“I’ll never tell.” Then he pointed to the shop. “Actually, I’m picking up turnovers for the guys. Hump day and all. Thought I’d grab a coffee while I’m here. Join me?”

She pushed the strands of hair that had loosened from her ponytail off her face. “I’m a mess. I can’t go in there.”

“You’re not a mess. You look…more than fine.”

The scrutiny he gave her muzzled any response. The way he said “more than fine” birthed more butterflies. Was he actually giving her a sweet compliment? “Come on, I hate to drink alone.”

She sighed and went along with his request. It was easier than coming up with more excuses. “Okay, I guess I could take a break.”

He gave her a triumphant smile and put his hand to her lower back and ushered her inside the shop before she could change her mind. “This okay?” he asked, pulling out a chair at a two-seat café table.

“Sure, it’s more than fine,” she repeated, returning his smile.

“You’re in a good mood,” he said as she sat down.

“You sound surprised.”

“Is Texas finally growing on you?” He sat facing her.

“I’ve always loved Texas, you know that.”

“Yeah I do. It’s a great place to visit, but you’d never want to live here, kind of thing.”

“Coop.”

“Teasing, Taylor. It’s what I do.”

She wasn’t so sure he was, but she let it go. “So how was poker night?”

“You know about that?”

“I can stalk too, you know.” She pursed her lips.

He arched his brows. “Ah, Julie told you. Poker was good. Beers with the guys is always fun even if Miguel won last night. How was your night with the girls?”

“I’m afraid too much vino for me. And I broke the bank on chocolate truffles. So here I am, jogging it off. Or at least trying to.”