Page 48 of Range
Addictive.
Elusive.
I pushed my chair from my desk and stalked the floor until I was in my closet. I didn’t take the time to carefully choose my workout gear. The first pieces to touch my hand, touched my body. I laced my Chanel trainers and trekked toward the treadmill.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The sound was heavenly. The walking pad began to move. I pressed the plus sign near the handgrip, increasing the speed. With my left hand, I increased the incline. Once at a comfortable speed and incline, I lowered my headphones onto my head and prepared for the burn my body desperately needed to calm the brewing storm.
My home gym had saved me so many times before. I doubted it would let me down tonight. If the treadmill wasn’t the solution, there was a stairmaster, weights, a spin bike, and every machine the local gyms charged a monthly fee to use.
I closed my eyes, hanging both hands over my head. My spine was straight and my posture was a result of it. Images of Josiah rushed me at once.
I didn’t falter. I didn’t fold. I didn’t fret.
Thick arms garnered my attention.
A silky smooth voice lured me closer.
Perfectly balanced, ultra-dark skin toyed with parts of me he hadn’t touched.
Bushy brows and coarse coils atop his head was evidence of our children’s future inheritance.
A long, dreamy frame promised me long nights with easy lifting.
Muscular legs promised to be my softest place to land, catching my tears when they fell or my hair when it unraveled from his hands as my head bobbed in his lap.
Oh God, Range.
My mind was in another place. A sweet place. A place I found it hard to pull myself from. However, the widening of my nostrils and the tickling of the inside of my nose forced me from whatever magical place Josiah had invited me to.
My eyelids separated. Parts of my heart pulled toward my chest cavity, hoping for freedom. My hands fell from my head. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there, but I was anticipating the moment I returned. For now, the wavering presence would suffice. I was no longer alone. I didn’t want to be.
“Teddy,” I breathed out.
Dressed in chocolate from head to toe, I marveled at the handsome man in front of me. He was aging beautifully. Still, aging reminded me that he was not the same man he was ten years ago. Not even the same man he was five years ago.
The gray that appeared in his beard reminded me that we didn’t have forever together. My stomach knotted at the thought. I felt the urge to release my emotions, but held them close. Held them tightly, refusing to break in front of him. I’d disappointed him enough already.
“Range–” he paused.
I lowered the incline and speed of my treadmill.
“You’re sweating, baby.”
“That’s the point, Teddy.”
“So is your makeup.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d started my treadmill with a full face and it wouldn’t be the last. However, my intentions weren’t to ruin my top. His observation saved a few seconds of my sanity.
He rubbed a hand down his beard, never taking his eyes off me. I felt like a mountain in his line of vision. He preferred reducing himself, becoming a steep hill one stood on top of to see the vastness of the mountain ahead of them.
Not just me.
