1
Pace
The early-September morningwas cool this high up in Cozy Creek, Colorado, but the midday sun would keep it warm enough for a T-shirt later today. Not that I was even wearing a shirt right now as I jogged through downtown in just my “slutty little workout shorts” as Claire called them. My best friend Levi’s fiancée had no qualms poking fun at me and, unlike many of the ladies of Cozy Creek, tourists and locals alike, never seemed charmed by my ways.
She finds them to be “attention seeking.”
Pfft.
She just liked her men grumpy and antisocial.
To be sure, these shorts were scandalously cropped, showing off as much of my thighs as possible while keeping me decent.
“Good morning, Pace,” a pack of early-morning gray-haired speed walkers sing-songed as they approached from the opposite direction, arms swinging, hips sashaying, neon tracksuits swish-swishing. I hopped to the side of the path to let them by, never breaking stride.
We were on one of several asphalt paths that more or less wove through Cozy Creek. Following the trail as it wormed through the small town known as the “best worst-kept secret” could provide a decent five-mile jog to start the day.
I spun and kept jogging backward as they passed. “Morning, ladies. Looking good today,” I said, throwing in a wink for good measure. They tutted and giggled like schoolgirls.
“Where are the rest of the boys?” they called before I was out of earshot.
“I guess they would rather sleep than get a chance to enjoy this beautiful morning.”
“Well, lucky us, we get you all to ourselves,” another said.
Their snickers and obvious stares gave me the ego boost I needed to finish the rest of my run with extra pep.
“The boys” referred to my firefighter brothers who usually joined me on these daily morning runs. But Tate, my fellow fireman and running pal, had been distracted lately, and Cole, his brother and incidentally my boss as chief, rarely ran these mornings now that he and Madi were so hot and heavy. And for whatever reason, the rest had bailed on me this morning. It didn’t help the feeling of restlessness growing in me. I wanted to shoot the shit with the guys and not have thoughts.
Thoughts were dangerous.
At least I’d seen more of my best friend, Levi, since he met Claire. Ironically, despite my best efforts to get him out of his hermit life, it was the arrival of his now fiancée that allowed him to shake loose the cobwebs of his loss that tied him down. He wasn’t a firefighter like the rest of my close friends, but we’d grown up together. He’ll always be a quiet artist type, so I need to have my firehouse family to balance out my active social life.
I stopped to catch my breath and take a big glug from the public water fountain in the center of town. I wiped my mouth with my forearm before leaning forward to brace my handson my knees to catch my breath. The sun was just coming up over the surrounding peaks of the Rockies, illuminating our picturesque town in a glowing pink hue. I smiled and took a deep breath in and out, even as the cold air caused goose bumps over my skin.
See, I was fine. Endorphins were pumping, and the sun was warming my face. All was well.
I should be happy. Things were good. My best friend was a hermit no longer. My parents were healthy, and my brother and his wife had given me two rambunctious nephews.
I straightened and rubbed at the area just above my chest where I’d been having some aching tension lately. I’d already asked the local doc about it when she came in for the biannual health checkup in the firehouse. She said I was fit as a fiddle. No surprise there. But she suggested maybe talking to someone—I cut her off there and then. I was fine. I never shared my own burdens; I was the guy who helped carry others’.
Not that I even had a complaint.
I did wish one of the other guys were here so I could give them shit about their tumultuous dating lives. Or maybe Levi was awake and I could?—
No. I wasn’t doing that. I could be alone on an early-morning run. I was a grown-ass man.
So all was good, except for that random chest pain. I wasn’t thinking about that. Pace Leigh didn’t have bad thoughts; he wasn’t weighed down with troubles. He was the good-time guy, the hot firefighter, best friend of the local reclusive artist. We had our roles to play, and that was mine. I’d been the goofy younger brother all my childhood. Then Kaylee’s easygoing boyfriend throughout high school, and now I carried the best-friend role and good-time guy into the station.
Nobody needed to worry about me. Nobody needed to stress because I had nothing to complain about.
A wisp of a cloud moved over the small slit of sun that had been warming my face, and another shiver wracked my body. A breeze blew through the streets of Cozy Creek, shuddering the leaves on the trees that lined the park and streets. The leaves hadn’t quite started to change yet here in town, but the surrounding mountain ranges showed the aspens were beginning to yellow.
The streets around me were beginning to wake up. Soon, the shops would be bustling with tourists and locals alike. I decided to run a few more miles until the adrenaline and exhaustion pushed out whatever this overthinking bullshit was. Then I’d hit the gym for arm day.
A few hours later, after fueling up with a smoothie from GiGi’s (and heavy flirting with the morning clientele there), I showered and changed into clothes more appropriate for the young families headed to school—jeans and a fire station T-shirt. Okay, so the shirt was a little tight, but why not share the gift of this body with passersby?
I walked down Main Street toward the Lily Carmichael Gallery, waving to my neighbors. The smell of the colder weather was just a hint in the air, and the shops had already begun to advertise recipes with cinnamon and apple, pumpkin spice, and caramel. It was hard to believe that we were rounding the corner to yet another holiday season. It felt like things were changing, and yet I remained constant. Cozy Creek and I, at least, would always be the same. Because I was nothing if not reliable.
