Excerpt of Runaway Love Story by Sadira Stone

I’ll never run without pepper spray again.

The guy was almost on her, puffing like a bellows.

“Babe, there you are. Hold up.” This voice was deeper and
lacked the mocking tone of the others.

Without slowing, she risked a backward glance. A tall bald
guy. Serious runner, judging by his gear. His face dripped
from exertion, but his broad smile held no threat. He
tilted his shaved head toward the bushes and winked.

She slowed, and he pulled up alongside her. His voice rang
out, unnecessarily loud. “I stopped to tie my shoelaces,
and you disappeared.”

Hard of hearing? Near-sighted?

He threw a glance over his shoulder, then lowered his
voice. “You okay?”

Understanding dawned. He’s rescuing me.

“I’m good. Thanks.” She jogged to a stop and bent over,
hands on her knees, gulping air. He waited beside her,
facing the bushes she’d fled, his breathing hard but
steady. Expensive running shoes. Above his big feet rose
long, well-muscled legs encased in snug shorts and—God help
her—the finest ass she’d seen in a long, long time. High
and firm and muscular, with an adorable hollow at each side
that made her fingertips itch to trace its contours. He
kept his back to her as he scanned the trail. And what a
back it was, outlined by his sweat-soaked T-shirt, narrow
at the waist and broad at the shoulders. He ran his long
fingers over his shiny shaved head, then turned to face
her.

Late thirties, she guessed. High cheekbones, long, aquiline
nose, straight, pale brows, and deep-set eyes, blue as the
summer twilight. A shadow of golden scruff covered his
sharp jawline. His lips spread in a slow smile,
transforming his friendly, bony face into something
dazzling.

Their eyes met, and a spark jolted her, strong and sharp
and aimed straight at her center.

Uh-oh.

She’d felt this spark before with Carlo, her college
boyfriend, the one who loved her hard and fierce for two
years before dumping her just before graduation. Instant
attraction like this spelled trouble, the last thing she
needed. Especially now.

She gave her head a little shake. Just a nice, friendly
guy. No need to panic. “Thanks for stopping. Those guys—”

A voice rang out from the bushes. “Blondie, where are you?”

Then another. “Come back here and show me some love.”

And a third. “You know you want to.”

His easy grin slid into a scowl. “‘Scuze me.” He sprinted
toward the voices. At his approach, the shrubs exploded in
a flurry of rustling.

“Shit, it’s Mr. Garvey.”

“Run!”

Scuffling sounds followed, along with cursing. A moment
later, the tall guy emerged, his arms crosshatched with
welts and scratches, clutching a plump, pimply teenager by
the back of his shirt. The kid squirmed in a vain effort to
escape. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen. Eyes
bulging, he blinked up at his captor, then at Laurel, both
of whom towered over his greasy head.

The man leaned in, his handsome face thunderous, and
snarled in the kid’s ear. “What do you say to the lady?”

The boy lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

He gave the kid a shake. “And?”

“It won’t happen again.”

Not so brave now, are you, little macho? She swallowed a
snort of laughter and glared at the kid.

His eyes brimmed with tears. “Please don’t tell my dad,
Coach. He’ll kill me.”

For a moment, she thought the kid might wet his pants.

The man glared like an eagle clutching a rat in its talons.
He relaxed his grip. “Get out of here.”

The kid scrambled back into the bushes.

A tickly, nervous giggle escaped her throat. “Coach?”

“Cross country. North Eugene High. Home of the
Highlanders.” He chuckled. “And a few low-lifes, like
Justin and his buddies.” He shuffled his big feet on the
pavement, then fixed his blue, blue eyes on hers. “I’m
Doug, by the way.”

She extended her hand. “Laurel.”

His palm was warm, his grip firm but gentle. He held her
gaze so long she filled the awkward silence with
embarrassed blathering. “Great name for a tall girl, right?
Like a tree.”

She calculated his height. Six foot six? Or seven? Six feet
tall in her bare feet, she seldom met a guy who towered
over her like this. He made her feel delicate, for once.

She cleared her throat. “Are you going to tell his dad?”

He tapped his lips with his forefinger, then grinned.
“Nope. His mom. She works in the school cafeteria.”

“Ooo. A lunch lady. They’re tough.”

When he laughed, his craggy face lit up with a playful
energy that made her want to—what, exactly? She wasn’t
looking for a new boyfriend. After her last break-up, she’d
promised herself to go three whole months before dating
again, time to reset her priorities, find her center—stuff
like that.

She cleared her throat. “Well, thanks for being my pretend
boyfriend. Best fifteen-minute relationship ever.”

“Let’s make it a bit longer.” The corners of his wide mouth
lifted, and a by-God dimple winked in the hollow of his
cheek.

“Oh, um…” In her belly, a swarm of fireflies began their
jittery, glowing dance.

“It’s nearly dark. Let me run you back to your car.” The
fireflies winked out, leaving her oddly disappointed.

“Actually, I came on foot.”

“Okay, I’ll run you home. Which way?”

“It’s not necessary, really.” His open, earnest smile
tugged her toward surrender. Maybe just a little flirtation
to pass the time until I move to San Francisco?

She gave herself a mental kick. Nope. Gotta be ready for a
fast exit.