Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,3

out a deep sigh. Yeah… one step at a time.

The nightmares managed to stay subdued for almost a week before roaring to life again. Back on the streets in the early morning, she ran for miles, not paying attention to where she was heading until she noticed the sounds of other footsteps and realized she was close to one of the city parks that included a track. Jogging through the gate, she appreciated the level, springy surface of the track. She ran on the inside lanes as the walkers were relegated to the outer ones.

The track wasn’t too crowded this time of day. It was nice to not have to worry about potholes or tree roots pushing up the sidewalks. The morning was cool but it was refreshing as she sucked in the air, allowing it to chase off the night.

Just ahead, she noticed a man running in front of her. His tall, muscular, lean body was perfectly fit. His dark hair was trimmed short on the sides and back, but unlike the military, it was a bit longer on top. His T-shirt was damp with sweat, but that only accentuated the muscles in his back and arms. Tattoos snaked down one arm, something that she found incredibly attractive. And she would have to be dead to not notice his tight ass in his running shorts. As he rounded the curve, he twisted his head back to see who was behind him. Her eyes were still on his ass when she heard, “Erin?”

Glad her face was red from running, she hoped he wouldn’t notice she was blushing from having been caught ogling. Her gaze shot up to his face, and she recognized the smile. “Hey, Torin.”

Torin Flanigan. Her mouth felt dry, but she wasn’t sure if it was from miles of running or some other reason she didn’t want to acknowledge. He and his sister, Maeve, ran the pub where so many first responders gathered, including her brothers. She’d only been a couple of times, usually when forced by her siblings to get out and socialize. Each time, she’d sat at the end of the bar, nursing a beer until it became warm. She’d noticed Torin as he worked behind the bar while keeping an eye on the crowd. He’d never tried to push drinks on her, never seeming to mind that she just wanted to sit and be quiet. And from the hopeful looks and flirting sent his way by the female patrons, it’d be easy to overlook me. She’d never minded being overlooked when out with more vivacious friends, but still, it’d be nice to be noticed.

Surprising her, he slowed his pace until she caught up to him, and they continued running side by side. Neither spoke. Thank God. Most people like to chat while they run; it was why she preferred running by herself. Forced conversation during running was about as pleasant as getting out and socializing. For her, running was for chasing the devils out of her mind or figuring out what the hell she wanted to do with her life.

After several laps where nothing had been said, self-conscious awkwardness crept over her. For once, she wished she could be chatty and witty. Glancing to the side, she finally mumbled, “I think I’m going to head home now. Um… thanks for running with me. I… I usually run in the dark. Alone. I guess I feel comfortable in the shadows.”

He looked over, his lips curving slightly. His eyes were warm as they held her gaze. Like any other female, she noticed he was attractive, but as his smile widened, she had to force her feet to continue their steady rhythm so she wouldn’t stumble. He might appear a little rough around the edges, but to her, Torin Flanigan was beautiful.

Offering a chin lift, he said, “I’m out here most mornings. If you ever want a running partner, just let me know.” He continued to hold her gaze. “You know, Erin, it’s okay to feel comfortable in the shadows… but eventually, the sun will come out.”

She swallowed deeply, suddenly finding it hard to breathe past the lump in her throat. There was a specter of sadness in his eyes. She knew that look intimately… after all, loss recognizes loss.

With a final chin lift, he jogged ahead, and she made her way out the gate and along the tree-lined street until she was home.

The nightmare had once again been pushed to the furthest regions of her mind where