Christmas Kisses Collection. Louise Allen

SURE ABOUT THIS?” McKenzie asked the man stretching out beside her. He wore dark running pants that emphasized his calf and thigh muscles and a bright-colored long-sleeved running shirt that outlined a chest McKenzie had taken great pleasure in exploring the night before as they’d lain in bed and “rung in” the New Year.

      Lance glanced at her and grinned. “I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line.”

      She hoped so. She hoped Lance hadn’t been teasing about being a runner. He was in great shape, had phenomenal endurance, but she’d still never known him to run. But the truth was he hadn’t stayed the whole night at her place ever, so he could do the same as her and run in the early morning before work. They had sex, often lay in bed talking and touching lightly afterward, then he went home. Just as he had the night before. She hadn’t asked him to stay. He hadn’t asked to. Just, each night, whenever he got ready to go, he kissed her good-night and left.

      Truth was, she’d have let him stay Christmas night after they’d got back from his parents’. He’d insisted on following her back to her place. Despite the late hour, he’d come in, held her close, then left. She hadn’t wanted him to go. She’d have let him stay every night since. He just hadn’t wanted to. Or, if he had wanted to, he’d chosen to go home anyway.

      Why was that? Did it have to do with Shelby? Should she tell him that she knew about his first love? That his family had told her about his loss? They just hadn’t told her any of the details surrounding the mysterious woman Lance had loved.

      Maybe the details didn’t matter. They shouldn’t matter.

      Only McKenzie admitted they did. Perhaps it was just curiosity. Perhaps it was jealousy. Perhaps it was something more she couldn’t put her finger on.

      She’d almost asked him about Shelby a dozen times, but always changed her mind. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

      Today was the first day of a new year. A new beginning.

      Who knew, maybe tonight he’d stay.

      If not, she was okay with that, too. He might be right in going, in not adding sleeping together to their relationship, because she didn’t count the light dozing they sometimes did after their still phenomenal comings together as sleep. Sleeping together until morning would be another whole level of intimacy.

      “You don’t have to try to run next to me,” she advised, thinking they were intimate enough already. Too intimate because imagining life without him was already becoming difficult. Maybe they could stay close friends after their two months were up. Maybe. “Just keep your own steady pace and I’ll keep mine. We’ll meet up at the end.”

      Grinning, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind.”

      They continued to stretch their muscles as the announcer talked, telling them about the cause they were running for, about the rules, etc. Soon they were off.

      McKenzie never tried to take the lead early on. In some races she never took the lead. Not that she didn’t always do her best, but sometimes there were just faster runners for that particular distance. Today she expected to do well, but perhaps not win as she was much more of an endurance runner than a speed one.

      Lance ran beside her and to her pleased surprise he didn’t try to talk. In the past when she’d convinced friends to run with her, they’d wanted to have a gab session. That was until they became so breathless they stopped to walk, and then they often expected her to stop and walk with them.

      McKenzie ran.

      Lance easily kept pace with her. Halfway in she began to wonder if she was slowing him down rather than the other way around. She picked up her pace, pushing herself, suddenly wanting distance between them. Without any huffing or puffing he ran along beside her as if she hadn’t just upped their pace. That annoyed her.

      “You’ve been holding out on me,” she accused a little breathily, thinking it was bad when she was the one reverting to talking. Next thing you knew she’d be stopping to walk.

      “Me?” His gaze cut to her. “I told you that I ran.”

      “I’ve never seen you at any of the local runs and yet clearly you do run.”

      “I don’t do organized runs or competitions.”

      Didn’t do organized runs or competitions? McKenzie frowned. What kind of an answer was that when he clearly enjoyed running as much as she did? Well, maybe almost as much.

      “That’s hard to believe with the way you’re into every charity in the region,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you participate in these fund-raisers when they’re an easy way to raise money for great causes? For that matter, why aren’t you organizing races to raise money for all your special causes?”

      McKenzie was a little too smart for her own good. Lance was involved with a large number of charities and helped support many others, but never those that had to do with running.

      He did run several times a week, but always alone, always to clear his head, always with someone else at his side, mentally if not physically.

      High school cross-country had been where he’d first met Shelby. She’d been a year older than him and had had a different set of friends, so although he’d seen the pretty brunette around school he hadn’t known her. She’d have been better off if he never had.

      “No one can do everything,” he answered McKenzie.

      “I’m beginning to think you do.”

      “Not even close. You and I just happen to have a lot in common. We enjoy the same things.”

      She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t enjoy singing.”

      “I think you would if you’d relax.”

      “Standing onstage, with people looking at me?” She cut her gaze to him. “Never going to happen.”

      Keeping his pace matched to hers, he glanced at her. “You don’t like things that make people look at you, do you, McKenzie?”

      “Nope.”

      “Because of your parents?”

      “I may not have mentioned this before, but I don’t like talking while I run. I’m a silent runner.”

      He chuckled. “That a hint for me to be quiet?”

      “You catch on quick.”

      They kept up the more intense pace until they crossed the finish line. The last few minutes of the race Lance debated on whether or not to let McKenzie cross the finish line first. Ultimately, he decided she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d appreciate a man letting her win.

      In the last stretch he increased his speed. So did McKenzie. If he hadn’t been a bit winded, he’d have laughed at her competitive spirit. Instead, he ran.

      So did she.

      They crossed the finish line together. The judge declared Lance the winner by a fraction of a second, but Lance would have just as easily have believed that McKenzie had crossed first.

      She was doubled over, gasping for air. His own lungs couldn’t suck in enough air either. He walked around, slowly catching his breath. When he turned back, she was glaring.

      “You were holding out on me,” she accused breathlessly, her eyes narrowed.

      “Huh?”

      “You were considering letting me win.” Her words came out a little choppy between gasps for air.

      “In case you didn’t notice…” he sucked in a deep gulp of air “…I was trying to cross that finish line first.”

      “You were sandbagging.”

      He laughed. “Sandbagging?”

      “How