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Life was slower here.
Calmer.
Easier.
I looked up to see Lincoln standing with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at me.
“You’re late.” He raised a brow.
I glanced down at my watch and laughed. “It’s 7:02. Seriously? You’re calling me late?”
“I was here at seven.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m here now. Are you going to tell me what’s off-limits and what I’m at liberty to ask you while we run?”
“No. The run is just to get some exercise. We can make small talk. Nothing I say on the run is on the record. Got it?”
I groaned. “Why make me come on the run if I’m not interviewing you?”
“Don’t you need a pen and paper or a laptop to do a proper interview?”
I was going to record him, but I did prefer to have my iPad with me.
“Fine. Run first. Questions after.”
We walked toward the road, and he turned to look at me. He was tall and too good-looking for his own good.
It made me dislike him even more because I hated that I found him so attractive.
“It’s four miles to my place. We can stop there, and you can ask three questions today. So, take your time to choose them wisely while we’re on the run.”
“Three questions? That’s ridiculous,” I said as we started running. He moved to the outside of the road, forcing me to the inside, which seemed like a chivalrous gesture for a jackass.
“We’ve got weeks. No sense rushing it.”
Our pace was pretty quick, but nothing I couldn’t keep up with. “Did you drive down to the cove? I didn’t see a car.”
“No. I ran there this morning. I wanted to get a long run in.”
I wouldn’t lie. I was impressed. But it wasn’t too surprising, seeing as the man was considered a machine in the world of football.
“So, am I allowed to make basic small talk while we run? Or does that count as one of my three questions?” I was fairly fluent in sarcasm, and I made sure he knew I was annoyed.
He chuckled. “Small talk is fine. But it goes both ways. You ask something, off the record. I get to ask something. That’s how small talk works.”
“Says the guy who barely speaks to the press. Now you’re the expert on small talk?”
“Offending me will not earn you any points. Stop fighting it and just start with the damn small talk.” He glanced over at me with one brow raised before turning his attention back to the road.
“Oh, this is just so twisted,” I said as my breathing grew a bit labored. I had a hunch he was pushing the pace in hopes of keeping me quiet. But then, why bring me out here at all? I could have just met him after his run for the interview. “How are you liking Cottonwood Cove?”
“I actually like it. I can finally breathe.”
Honest.
Humble.
Unexpected.
