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Tim faded back until he was beside Lola as they crossed the bridge back into DC. He guided her down the right pathways but wanted to make sure she had an open view when they arrived.
He liked the feeling of running beside her. She did it so naturally. He always felt like a bulldozer struggling against a headwind when running. He did it by brute force. He’d grunted out twenty-milers with a fifty-pound pack with the best of them. Nothing was going to stop him.
But Lola LaRue floated. She was a natural-born runner and a complete joy to watch. The skimpy attire was pure bonusland. Though resting his head on that sleek, tight belly on a lazy summer afternoon was definitely high on his to-do list.
He kept her face slightly turned toward the river until in a single burst they were right on
