Free Catching Fireflies by Sherryl Woods Page B

been an increasingly touchy subject with her parents the past couple of years. Even though they lived in the Midwest and would probably rarely see her children if and when she had them, they seemed infatuated with the idea of grandchildren. Or maybe they were just eager to make up for the child they’d insisted she give up for adoption when she was barely seventeen, Rob’s child. None of that was something she intended to discuss with a man she barely knew. That shameful mistake—the pregnancy—wasn’t something she liked thinking about. Nor was relinquishing her child to strangers, even though she’d known in her heart it was for the best. Her mentor back then, Vicki Kincaid, had helped her not only to see that, but to bolster her spirits when she’d been the target of her classmates’ cruel remarks.
    Instead of going into any of that, she explained, “I work with a lot of women. I don’t hang out in bars. Serenity’s a small town. There aren’t many opportunities for finding someone and falling madly in love.”
    “Have you ever considered moving to a town where there might be more prospects?”
    “Nope. I fell in love with this town the first time I came here for a job interview right out of college. Nothing’s changed my mind about wanting to stay here.”
    “And you’re not lonely?”
    She leveled a look into his eyes. “Mostly I’m content with my own company. How about you?”
    For a moment, he looked disconcerted by the question, then confessed, “From time to time.”
    “Then let me turn the tables. Why haven’t you married? You’ve admitted people are constantly throwing candidates in your direction.”
    “None of them stuck,” he said. “And I learned a long time ago that marriage isn’t for me.”
    “Trial and error?” she asked, suddenly getting it.
    He smiled. “You could say that.”
    “It must have been a pretty awful breakup.”
    “You have no idea.” He waved her off. “Enough of that. It’s depressing.” He stood up. “And enough lollygagging, Ms. Reed. We’re going to finish this run, even if we have to do it at a snail’s pace.”
    “I can run faster than a snail,” she protested, reluctantly getting to her feet and tossing her empty coffee cup into the trash.
    “You’ll need to prove that before I’ll buy it,” he said. “Go. You set the pace.”
    She forced herself to jog along, pushing herself to go much faster than she wanted to but mindful that she’d never break any speed records.
    “Okay, you’ve matched a turtle,” J.C. admitted when they’d finally made their way around the lake and back to the car.
    “I appreciate the recognition,” she commented wryly. “Where do you suppose Jan is?”
    “Making her third loop, I imagine,” he said. “I know she passed us twice. Didn’t you see her wave?”
    “You mean through my blinding tears?” she asked, only half kidding.
    He nudged her in the ribs as he gave her a bottle of cool water. “Come on. It wasn’t that bad. You did it. Accomplishing something new should be giving you a huge adrenaline rush.”
    She gave him a sour look as she sipped the water. “I’ll be sure to let you know when that kicks in.”
    * * *
    J.C. was barely behind his desk on Monday morning when Debra came stalking into his office, her expression radiating indignation.
    “What were you thinking?” she demanded. “You invite Jan to go for a run, then bring another woman along. Who does that?”
    “A man making it clear that he’s not interested in anything more than going for a run.” He gave her a hard look. “Was she offended?”
    “Well, no, but that’s not the point. I’m offended.”
    “I can’t imagine why. I took your houseguest out for a run, as promised. We even had a nice breakfast afterward. I paid. She and Laura Reed hit it off. If Jan stays in town, I imagine they’ll be friends.”
    “If I wanted her to make a bunch of friends here, I’d have thrown a party,” she retorted. “Believe me, I