Page 242 of Broken Bonds

I head to the baby section because I want to pick up some onesies for Kylen. That’s when I spot the display of strollers.

Especially catching my eye is a jogger stroller.

Oooh!

That’s exactly what I need. Two birds and all that bullshit. I can run on two legs and let the baby get some fresh air all at the same time. I’m certain I could order a better one online, and probably will, but this one is here in front of me, and I can take it home now.

Okay, so that’s sold.

I get all the other things I came for, including groceries, and then ask one of the clerks to help me with the stroller box so I can check out. They even load it in the SUV for me.

“Daddy’s going to introduce you to the woods, sweetheart,” I tell her as I fasten her carrier into the car seat base.

She smiles and blows me a raspberry, making me laugh.

This feels right, though. The perfect solution. I want to run, and now I can take her with me, whereas I couldn’t run with her strapped to me in the kangaroo carrier for fear of jostling her too much. Maybe once she’s older we can do that. I haven’t had much time to exercise lately, whereas I spent most of the previous year before meeting Todd biking or running, or otherwise doing lots of physical activity. Of course I’m getting restless. Duh.

Relieved, I eagerly head home. An hour later, the groceries are put away, I’ve changed into running clothes, and Kylen’s staring around from her new point of view in the assembled jogging stroller. I gently bump it down the back steps and head toward the smoothest trail, which is actually a grassy track Todd runs the ATV and his truck along to check fence lines and access the farthest pastures.

The itchy, too-tight feeling is still there, but as I quickly pick up the pace into a blistering run, everything feels better. The world drops away, and a brief mental memory from the mating hunt blinks into my mind and out again as quickly as it arrived.

But it fucks up my concentration and I stumble, releasing the stroller handle as I roll tail-over-ears into a stand of palmetto bushes with the breath knocked out of me.

Panicking over the baby’s safety, I scramble to free myself, but I hear Kylen giggle. When I emerge from the bushes, shaky relief fills me that the stroller safely rolled to a stop a few feet away. She’s staring up at a squirrel on a branch about twenty feet overhead, reaching toward it.

“Fuck me,” I mutter, my pulse not hammering quite as much as my panic eases. I check her out, just to assure myself she’s okay, brush myself off, and set off again.

This time, at a slow jog that feels much more responsible under the circumstances but allows the mental chafing to return.

Especially feeling the sting on my knees where I scraped them when I crashed. The pain sends pleasant jolts straight to my cock, When we reach the clearing at the creek, I shake my head and walk over, sticking my entire head in the water and trying to sort myself out.

Something’s different. Something’s…wrong.

I sit up when I hear an approaching engine. One of the ranch’s ATVs comes into view, but it’s not Todd. Terry’s behind the wheel. When he rolls up and shuts the engine off, he looks concerned.

“You okay, Mal?”

I stand, stretching my neck from side to side. “Yeah. I needed a run, so I picked up a jogging stroller in town. Just having a Daddy-daughter run.”

He’s downwind from me. When his nose wrinkles I realize that with the sweat pouring off me I probably reek.

“But…are you okay?” he asks.

“What?” I look down at my scraped knees. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped.” I do not want to admit why. “It’s fine. But hey, the stroller came to a stop and was sturdy, so, yay?”

He studies me for a moment and, frankly, it’s wigging me out. “Do you want me to get Todd? Or give you a lift back to the house?”

I lift a hand. “Nah, I’m okay. Seriously. Please don’t tell him I tripped. It’ll freak him out.” Not to mention I need to get moving again because that seems to be the only thing keeping that itchy feeling even remotely at bay. Like it’s a…need.

Resuming my jog, we pass him and I offer him another smile and a wave. A tingle at the base of my tail annoys me when I see him turn all the way around in his seat to watch me go.

What the hell? Creepy much?

I’m sure it’s just Terry feeling overprotective of me and the baby—which all of the guys are—but today it hits me wrong for some reason.

I lose track of time and realize I left my phone back at the house, but I don’t even care. I’m on our property and it’s perfectly safe. Shadows have slowly lengthened when I finally stop again to rest at the far opposite end of the property. Kylen’s deeply asleep, and I should probably think about heading back. She’ll be due for a diaper change soon and be ready to eat.

But when I think about going back that itchy feeling returns with a vengeance. I stretch, walking circles around the stroller as I work out my arms, legs, neck. Something inside me wants to keep running, wear myself out to the point of exhaustion. A true struggle against my common sense, which apparently is losing the battle for adulting this afternoon.