“So slow down,” she wheezed. She ran into him as he did just that, her nose smacking into his shoulder blade. “Uncalled for.”
“Sorry.” The last of his anger seemed to fade as he bent down and tilted her chin up toward him. “You okay?”
The way he held her face in his hand so tenderly made her blink in surprise. “Fine.” She meant it, but it still came out a little breathlessly.
His hand slipped away, but not before she would have sworn his thumb caressed the underside of her jaw. Or maybe she was delirious from lack of oxygen. “We’re treading a fine line here.”
“No line. We just have to keep it professional. I have promised to respect your boundaries, and you can promise not to toss me up against any furniture or trees to kiss me senseless.”
His lips quirked in amusement. “Senseless, huh?”
She waved that off and started walking. He fell into step without any trouble. “Why do you have to be so tall?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Lady, I’m short.”
“Not to me, you’re not.” She glanced up at him. “Is that weird, being the smallest person on the team?”
“Is this the start of our month?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I was just passing the time. Trying to forget about the fact that my legs will never forgive me for all this exercise I put them through. I am so going to regret this tomorrow morning when I try to get out of bed.”
“You should work out every day.” He analyzed her soberly. “It’s good for your heart.”
“I’ll remember that while I’m rubbing Icy Hot all over my lower extremities tonight.” When he laughed, she flipped him off. He reached for her finger but she danced out of the way. “No, smartass. It’s not the start of the month. I was making conversation. You know, what friends do.”
“Are we friends?”
“We’re friendly.” She shrugged. “Close enough. We don’t have to be adversarial to make this work. I’m friendly with a lot of the guys I interview.”
“But you’re asking them about how many marshmallows they can stuff in their mouth. That’s hardly probing and hard-hitting journalism.”
“It pays the bills,” she said, feeling defensive suddenly. Normally, she didn’t care who made fun of her job. She knew the plan, and she knew she wouldn’t be doing it forever. But when he said it . . . it felt ridiculous. Like she was the broadcast journalist version of a bimbo trophy wife who thought tanning was an Olympic sport.
“Hey.” He caught her elbow and slowed her down. “I’m not making fun. Just making that thing you talked about. Conversation?”
She searched his face for any sign of sarcasm and found none. “Fine.” She let him keep holding her elbow, curious how long he would keep the contact. “So, is it?”
“Is it what?” He looked at her strangely.
“Weird, being the smallest guy on the team? I’d struggle with it.” She glanced down ruefully, then back up. “When you’re as short as I am, it’s bad enough being around normal-sized people.”
“Those guys whose size keeps me safe,” he pointed out. He seemed to think about that for a moment, then added darkly, “Most of the time. But it’s not that weird. I’m the average-sized one . . . or maybe a little shorter than average. They’re the curve-breakers. It’s all about the perspective.”
“Hmm.” She hummed, then breathed in for a moment as they walked quietly back toward their cars. It was peaceful in the morning. Nice. Though there was no way she would have woken up this early by choice, she could appreciate the serenity now that she was experiencing it.
“How’d you choose journalism?”
The question snapped her out of the appreciative moment. “I’m the one with questions.”
He raised a brow. “So you get to ask questions, but I don’t.”
“I’m the one doing the interview,” she reminded him. The thought of being interviewed herself made her shiver. No, thank you. She preferred to present the news, not be a part of it.
“We’re conversing, not interviewing. Seems hypocritical you pull the interview card once the tables are turned.” They broke from the trail and walked across the small wooden bridge to the parking lot. Walking to the car, he paused by the driver’s side door. “New rule.”
She sighed and crossed her arms, waiting.
“You get a day for questions, then I get a day.”
She stared at him, not following.
“For questions,” he clarified. “We’ll call it the give-and-take arrangement.”