Own the Eights Gets Married - Krista Sandor Page 0,67

fingers with hers and rested their clasped hands on the console as they cruised down the boulevard.

“Back to mushy. That’s more like I remember it,” Simon said, feigning teen mortification at their display of affection.

But what the hell was going on? Was Georgie only doing this to make Simon feel better before the race? It felt genuine. But could the tears in her eyes be tears of sadness—the tears over something about to end?

He couldn’t let that happen.

They approached the community center, and reluctantly, he released her hand. “I better let go so I can park.”

“Right,” she answered, clasping her hands nervously in her lap.

Instantly, he missed her touch, hating the loss of the connection he longed for over the last two weeks. He turned into the parking lot across from the community center and found a spot. He cut the ignition as his gaze traveled to the teen in the back seat, and he pushed aside the emotion welling in his chest.

Simon was their priority now.

Georgie opened the car door. “Jordan, why don’t you stick with Simon. I’ll go check in with the director and our volunteer coordinator. I’ll catch up with you two during the race,” she said, gifting the teen a grin before exiting the car.

He watched Georgie jog up to the volunteer stand. When would he see her again? He needed to carve out a moment to get her alone—to apologize, to make her see they were meant to be together.

It couldn’t be over between them. It simply couldn’t.

“Mr. Marks, are you ready?” Simon asked.

Ready?

Jordan swallowed past the lump in his throat. Was he ready to find out if the woman he loved would take him back? And what if it was over? How the hell would he go on?

“It looks like it’s you and me, big guy,” he said to the teen, doing his best not to sound defeated.

“Yeah,” Simon replied, nodding to himself as if he were turning something over in his mind.

They got out of the car and surveyed the bustling rec center.

Jordan cleared his throat. “Let’s pick up our race bibs and get warmed up.”

He needed to get Simon moving. Hell, he needed to get out of his head and get himself moving.

Once they started running, he could figure out what he wanted to say to Georgie. And it wasn’t like she’d catch up to them in the race. Yes, with a hell of a lot of training, they’d knocked a little time off her mile, but she still got passed by spry senior citizens out power walking.

He breathed a cautious sigh of relief. There was still time. The wedding wasn’t until later this afternoon.

A shiver traveled down his spine.

What kind of guy doesn’t know if his wedding is on or off hours before the big event?

He shook his head and willed the thought away. He couldn’t go there. Not yet. Not while there was still a chance.

They checked in, grabbed their race bibs, and headed toward a crowd of runners gathered at the starting line. Along with participants of all ages, the place was packed with teens, amped up and horsing around, preparing to run the 5K, then complete their Shakespeare recitation.

“Do you think I’m going to look like a fool?” Simon asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Jordan met the kid’s gaze. “No, not at all.”

Simon glanced over at a group of teenage boys. “They’re from my school. They’re athletes.”

Jordan checked out the jock squad. “Did they ever bother you?”

“A few comments here and there. But not much anymore,” the kid answered, but Jordan knew the damage had been done.

Simon might not be that skinny kid anymore, but it didn’t erase the years of teasing.

He rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Listen, those guys don’t matter. Not one bit. You’re strong. You’re fast. They’ll be eating our dust.”

The teen swallowed hard. “You believe that?”

“I do,” he answered, conviction lacing the words.

Simon chuckled. “You’re going to be saying that again soon, Mr. Marks.”

Jordan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I do,” the teen tossed back with a twinkle in his eyes.

Jordan nodded, praying the uncertainty churning in his belly wasn’t apparent on his face.

How he hoped Simon was right.

He glanced around, looking for Georgie, and instead found a crew of people in CityBeat T-shirts heading their way. Barry emerged from the pack and jogged up to them.

“Everything looks great! Hector and Bobby wanted us to make sure and get plenty of footage.”

Jordan shook his head. Christ, the irony! Last time