Dead Running Read Online Free

ran now Race Lady wouldn’t be able to track me down. I scanned for gaps in the crowd. My eyes landed on Dr. Tattoo. Yum, he looked good. His own mob of feminine admirers fought for attention. He caught my eye and smiled before refocusing on the tall brunette at his left. What would Nana think if I brought him home? Doubtful the plastic surgeon bonus would overshadow the dozens of visible tattoos. I wondered if he had any hidden tattoos. Even covered in ink, his chest would be worth a peek.
    I forced myself to continue my search for Race Lady’s position. She stood amidst a group of official-looking people under the bowery. Holy crackers. Was that the mayor? Race Lady nudged him, pointing in my direction. Several other members of her entourage turned to stare, obviously shocked that a girl had attempted to sell the marathon entry.
    I couldn’t run away with the mayor looking on. He had police backup. Was there some kind of law against not accepting a Health Day’s prize? I rounded my shoulders and scratched at the entry form. Why had I been cheering a minute ago? I’d finally won something. Fabulous.
    “Hey, I’m entered into the St. George Marathon too,” a male voice said.
    “Whoopee for you,” I muttered, printing my identity for anyone to steal.
    “Maybe we could train together,” the deep voice interrupted again.
    “Maybe,” I drawled, obviously this guy was too thick to realize I wasn’t interested in him or this stupid race. “ If you could keep up with me.”
    A sharp jab in my abdomen jerked my eyes from the paper. Oh great, my sister-in-law had returned. “Ouch, wha . . .” My voice trailed off as I stared in awe. Fine Damon stood before me. I thought he was gorgeous from afar. Close up, he was tantalizing. Tall, lean, cropped strawberry-blond hair contrasting nicely with tanned skin and dark blue eyes.
    “I’m, uh, really much faster than I showed today.” I jabbed a finger at my sister-in-law. “You can’t tell yet, but she’s pregnant and I was being nice and going slow for her.”
    Raquel rolled her eyes. “Slowed down for me,” she muttered. “I could kick your trash nine months pregnant.” Tilting her chin, she marched over to another group of runners like an insulted debutante.
    I glanced into amused blue orbs and had to admit, “She could.” I hastened to explain, “I didn’t train very well for this race, but I’ll be ready for the marathon. I’m a personal trainer and exercise scientist so I obviously know what I’m doing. I plan on qualifying for Boston.”
    Qualifying for Boston ? What kind of crap was I spouting? I didn’t enjoy running. I’d only run this 5K to prove to my sister-in-law that I could keep up with her and prove to myself I wasn’t the quitter my family imagined. At least the personal trainer and exercise scientist part were true.
    Damon grinned. “Why don’t we tackle St. George first?”
    I reddened. He obviously saw through my bluff.
    “Give me your phone number,” Damon said.
    Phone number? Oh, yeah. Forget this marathon talk and get right into setting up a date. Now it was my turn to grin.
    “I’ll let you know when we’re doing training runs,” he said.
    Grin disappeared.
    “We usually do about seven and half minute miles on our long runs,” Damon continued. “Is that a problem for you?”
    “I, uh,” I stuttered, laboring to regulate my facial expression. Seven and a half minute miles? I’d done that pace on the treadmill, once, for about twenty seconds. “Seven and a half minute miles? Shouldn’t be a problem. That’s a reasonable pace.” On a road bike.
    “Great. So what’s your number?”
    I rattled it off, couldn’t hurt to let him call. Maybe I could talk him into dinner instead of training runs for the Marines.  
    “Perfect, I’ll talk to you soon.” He gave me one more jaw-dropping smile and turned away.
    My heart did that weird fluttering thing again. “Um, wait. Don’t you want to write my number