Free A Matchless Romance (Aisle Bound) by Christi Barth Page A

convince him not to do those shots. Karma, even for the little things, always came around to bite the most deserving in the ass. “You brought this misery on yourself. Besides, you invited yourself along on this little field trip.”
    “Are you kidding?” Milo popped back up to his feet. “A whole swarm of sexy men running down the road? Holy highway of hotties. Of course I had to come with you. I might find my soul mate. Or at least someone hot enough to take me to brunch.”
    She sipped from her extra-large coffee. Just because she was hangover free didn’t mean she wasn’t dragging after last night’s fantastic party. Well, fantastic once Drew went home and she could stop holding her breath and bracing for whatever faux pas he’d make next. Not to mention digging her fingernails into her palms over and over again to keep from pushing her fingers through all his luxurious hair. Tabitha so wanted to feel it. Actually, she wanted to feel a lot more of Drew. But those thoughts were off-limits.
    “This isn’t a Match-n-Mingle event, Milo. These people are pushing themselves to the limit. Do you know they practice every day? Weights, and cardio, and then a crazy amount of flat out running every week?”
    Yup. She’d browsed the Internet at two in the morning. Wanted to know just what to expect today, in order to avoid feeling as clueless as she must’ve made Drew feel last night. Tabitha had also wanted to search for pictures of Drew in the Summer Games. Instead, she’d fallen asleep with her laptop still propped on her stomach. Probably for the best. She’d never searched for pictures of her other clients in only shorts and a tank top. No reason to start now.
    “Of course I do. After putting in all that hard work, don’t you think they’d be grateful that I’m ready and willing to ogle—I mean, appreciate—their tight and toned results?” He grabbed his own giant, whipped-cream-and-syrup-laden coffee from her. “I’m ready to be some lucky guy’s most ardent fan.”
    “Good luck with that.” Getting Milo a date zoomed to the top of her priority list. His frustration with the single life had crossed the line from amusing to flat-out desperate. Hard to call herself a worthwhile matchmaker if she didn’t take care of her friends’ dating needs first. It might be good to do a Match-n-Mingle event in conjunction with the Gay Pride Festival and Parade in June. Get a more focused crowd, and a room full of appropriate choices for Milo to take his pick.
    A woman in head to toe orange Lycra ran by, kicking up little spurts of sand. Then two more, followed by an older and much slower man in layered running tights, shorts and three shirts who pulled up the rear.
    “We must be in the right place.” Tabitha angled them off the beach, into the park with its triangular, connected walking paths. Except she and Milo were the only two walking. Each short path—ranging from about ten steps long up to fifty—connected to a circular hub, and every one had a runner going full tilt on it. Tabitha had absorbed enough info last night to recognize it as sprint training.
    “God, it exhausts me just to watch them,” said Milo. But genuine awe tinged his voice. These people broadcast determination. Their gritted teeth betrayed the physical pain they ran right through. And yet, a convivial spirit came off of those gathered at the hubs, not currently running. Shouts of encouragement rang through the park, along with sporadic applause. The only competition they seemed to be in was with themselves, not each other.
    One man drew Tabitha’s eye. One half-naked man, to be precise. Tan legs, noteworthy enough for early April in Chicago, pumped beneath tight navy shorts. Tight enough she could admire each flex of his ass cheeks as he ran. A perfectly muscled back. The kind of perfection that made a woman want to run her hands down its hard length and just sigh in anticipation of what else might be long and hard about