Page 25 of The Ruse of Romancing

Deciding I had nothing to lose, I gave his hand a quick shake before essentially sprinting off further down the beach.

I knew he said he’d be the one running, but I could use a moment to gather my thoughts and try to make the pink fade from my cheeks.

I could write romance with the best of them, but living it was not my forte.

Not that this encounter was necessarily romance.

I mean, it could be. It could also be a really nice guy persistently trying to become my friend.

I’d have to ask the cousins for their opinions later.

After a few more steps down the beach, I felt the tight ball of anxiety in my stomach ease.

I had just begun wondering if Allen was really going to run past again or if he’d decided to give up on me when I heard footsteps approaching at a steady pace.

Looking over, I spotted Allen running my way, a smile on his face.

I knew this exchange was planned, but no one should be smiling that broadly while running.

However, I wouldn’t protest the view of him running up to me in his shorts and worn t-shirt.

His bright orange running shoes and confident gait made me think he wasn’t a stranger to exercising on the beach, even if he only visited his grandparents a couple of times a year.

The man was fine, and I was not above enjoying the view: muscles, short brown hair, and laughing golden-brown eyes that seemed to drink me in.

Allen slowed as he approached me and, while I did feel some heat in my cheeks, it was not nearly to the extreme level of embarrassment from earlier. This was a different sensation, more the heat of interest than mortification.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, repeating his greeting from earlier, except this time I didn’t hurl anything his direction. Progress to be sure. His breathing was slightly labored as he fell into step next to me.

“Well, hello,” I said, doing my best to hide the excitement in my voice. I had been kicking myself for not giving him my number after our bookstore run-in and was grateful for the second, well third, chance.

As if reading my mind, Allen gave me a knowing look. “So, do random beach run-ins count as second meetings?”

He really was making this a complete redo, something I was surprisingly grateful for.

“Maybe. That depends,” I said, hedging a bit. I reached up to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind my ear, only for the wind to chase it loose again.

“On?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for my response.

“On if you prove yourself to be a worthy conversationalist on our walk,” I said, feeling bold.

I didn’t need to ask the cousins. Allen was clearly interested, so why not take advantage?

If we really were editing our second exchange, I was going to edit it into what I wanted.

I knew the power of a good edit to strengthening a story and I was going to make the most of it.

“Is that your way of inviting me to join your walk?” Humor laced his tone.

I had nothing to lose, so I put all my cards on the table. “Absolutely. We’ve crossed paths twice now. I’d like to see if there’s a third interaction in our future.”

“In that case, I’d love to join your walk. I was getting tired of running anyway.” He gave a casual shrug, hardly the gesture I would have made after running for any period of time, but he seemed unfazed by the effort.

“How far did you go? I mean, before...” I trailed off at his raised eyebrow. He’d promised me an edit.

Squaring my shoulders, I tried again, this time with confidence and curiosity.

“How far did you run?”

The man beside me clearly worked out regularly and I couldn’t help but wonder what a normal morning run looked like for him. Not that I minded. I was more than happy to appreciate the effects of his efforts.

He glanced down at his smart watch, fiddling with the dials for a moment. “Well, you know, a good distance.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks flooded with a bit of color, and it wasn’t from physical exertion. Interesting.

“And what does a ‘good distance’ look like for you?” I braced myself, ready to hear some crazy number of miles. A physique like his didn’t happen by accident and often involved more hours in the gym than I cared to count.

“Like half,” he said, hedging, his facial expression carefully neutral.

“Half of what? A 5k, 10k, marathon?” If this man had run over ten miles already this morning, he was most definitely out of my league, edit or no edit. Also, he was surprisingly not sweaty, even if the morning was cool.

“Half... a mile.”

I stopped abruptly, grabbing his arm so he’d stop with me.

“I’m sorry. You’ve only run half a mile? And here I was ready for some epic double-digit number.” I couldn’t help but laugh after I’d built up his answer so much in my head.

“Hey now, I had just started my workout when I ran into you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I still have time today to get more exercise in. Unless you had other plans for the day you’re hoping for me to be a part of.

” He quirked an eyebrow at me. It was a very expressive, attractive eyebrow and I wanted to reach over and trace its outline with my finger.

“Well don’t let me hold you back. I’d hate to keep you from reaching your mile goal.” I jokingly waved in front of us at the open expanse of sand, holding my breath to see if he would call my bluff or if he was as interested in me as I was in him.

He hesitated a moment before grinning at me. “Can I tell you a secret?”

I bit my lip and nodded.

“I was parking my car when I saw you start walking down the beach, so I locked up and ran after you. I couldn’t miss my shot at a second meeting, even if it meant I wasn’t going to get my full workout today.

” The smile that man threw my way could end wars.

He was that level of pretty, which was probably why I was starting to picture Allen Bradley whenever I attempted to write Petros, even if the character had always had darker hair and green eyes in my head before now.

Did Hypatia and Petros need to have a beach scene?

I mean, it would probably devolve into an epic battle with some demigods, but I could build in some incredible chemistry and a few moments for them to check each other out.

Possibilities began to fill my mind, and I wanted to race back to the car for my laptop.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the conversation in front of me. The ideas would hold, I hoped.

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” I said, trying to hide my delight at his comment as butterflies danced in my stomach. “Hopefully the conversation proves worth it.”

“I’m positive it will.” Allen’s expression was warm and full of interest. I quickly turned away in an effort to hide the sudden heat in my cheeks.

I spotted an interesting shell and bent down to examine it to give myself a chance to regain my composure. This man was doing funny things to my emotions, and I wasn’t completely sure how to navigate it.

“Do you frequently run on the beach?” I asked, determined to lead the topic somewhere other than my interest in him.

I straightened to keep walking, leaving the shell in the sand.

“Since I arrived here, almost every day, weather permitting. Back home in Idaho, beach runs are a bit more difficult,” he said with clear humor in his voice.

I’d forgotten he wasn’t a local. He just seemed so at home here that it was hard to picture him living anywhere else, like the college town in Idaho he’d referenced in our conversation two days earlier.

“I’ve heard Idaho has some beautiful lakes and rivers. Do you ever run on those beaches?”

I didn’t know why I was continuing with this line of conversation.

I hated running, but for some reason my brain couldn’t think of another topic to talk about.

All thoughts in my head were currently limited to running and beaches and running on beaches.

There was also a very nice image in my head of what this man looked like while running on a beach.

If I asked him to run a bit in front of me so I could experience him running from all directions and angles, would that be weird?

It would be for research, obviously. I needed some reference images for writing Petros running on the beach accurately, at least that was the story I was telling myself.

Allen gave a small shrug, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. “I’m sure there are some lake beaches that would be worth running on, but not where I live.”

I nodded, at a complete loss for what to say next. I made a living with words and somehow, they’d all deserted me in this moment.

“Are you into running?” Allen asked the only logical next question after my fascination with his running habits.

I vigorously shook my head, sending the hair that had escaped my ponytail flying.

“I don’t run. If you see me running, you should be concerned because something’s chasing me, and I have no qualms about tripping others in order to aid my escape,” I said, completely serious.

“Noted,” Allen said with a sage nod as we continued to pick our way up the beach. “But for that to work, you’d have to run faster than me which, given how infrequently you run, I doubt you can.”

“You’d be amazed at what I can do with proper motivation.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be because if I’m getting chased by a chainsaw wielding clown, you’re going down.” Nice, Dani. Impress the man with your willingness to sacrifice him to a horror movie monster.

“That is one very specific scenario. Do you spend much time pondering things that would motivate you to run? Most people keep initial conversations light with invitations to try the world’s best chocolate-filled donut or something.

You went straight for the darkest option: murder by creepy circus person. ”

“Most people aren’t published authors who make their living imagining worst case scenarios to inflict upon their characters.

” I wished that observation wasn’t so true but there was a reason Hercules was literally the biggest dog I could reasonably own while living in a townhouse.

He was my protector when my imagination got the best of me and I became convinced weird sounds were intruders trying to kidnap me.

Forget that Hercules was a bit of a chicken. Potential intruders didn’t know that.

Our conversation continued as we wandered a bit further before deciding it was time to turn back.

I had a novel to write and a sister who would start texting me in a panic if I didn’t message her soon with another progress update.

She really needed a hobby or a man or something other than work to distract her from her breakup with Sir Dunce Cap.

Also, I probably needed to break this entire exchange down for the cousins for their full analysis.

When we reached my car, Allen lingered. I hoped he was as hesitant to see our morning together end as I was. It was the best edited second interaction I’d ever had with a guy, and I was hoping he’d ask for my number so we could have a repeat in the near future.

“I don’t know about you, but I hate to the see the morning end,” he said, leaning in close enough I caught a whiff of lumberjack and bakery again, but this time mixed with a hint of the sea.

“Unfortunately, I do have to get back to my responsibilities. You know, I have a deadline,” I said, watching as his face fell at the pronouncement. “But,” I hurried to tack on, “I could be persuaded to delay being responsible for the right reason.”