Anton:

I find Mor on the front porch sipping her tea when I come out to stretch for my morning run. Dad sits beside her with his coffee and morning paper. It’s the same routine they have had for as long as I can remember. They always sit together until their cups are both empty. Dad once said it was one of their keys to a good marriage.

“Anton,” Dad says as he flips the paper looking over it at me.

“Dad, Mor. Morning.”

“Are you off for a run, dear?”

I nod without a word. She knows I am. I go for a run every morning and spend an hour working out every night. “Well, the horses have been turned out, and I know you love to see them.” She muses as she goes back to sipping her tea. I nod my head and hit the trail.

It doesn’t take me long to find another runner on the path, and I cringe inwardly. Hannah is a family friend, and she is also the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time. She’s dressed in pale blue shorts and a white tank top. Her curly hair is pulled up, and the long column of her neck is exposed. I instantly find her presence annoying. Not because I don’t like her, but because I do. Over the last few days, I have watched her laugh and dance; she has played on the floor with my nieces and nephew. My family adores the woman, and I have come to find her infatuating over the last few days.

I pick up my pace to pass her, but she stops short to see one of the horses that had come over to the fence line, and the two of us collide instead. We land in a heap, and Hannah grabs her ankle.

“Are you okay?” I ask, mortified that I have run into her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says as she moves to stand, but the moment Hannah tries to put weight on her ankle, she winces and clenches her jaw.

“You’re not fine.” I retort.

“It’s not your problem. You have made it noticeably clear you don’t like me, so don’t pretend to be concerned now.”

“I–I don’t dislike you,” I correct her. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

The look on her face softens, and I kneel down to check out her ankle. It is already swelling, and a dark purple mark is beginning to mar her beautiful skin. Without asking, I scoop her up in my arms and cut out across the property to get us back to the house as quickly as I can. The moment she is in my arms, I know I’ve made a grave mistake and fight back every urge to growl in sexual triumph. I relish the feel of her hand resting on my chest, her bare legs against my arm, her bare skin at her waist against my palm, and the way her breasts press against my pectorals each time she takes a breath.

We reach the back deck, and I lean down to set her on the porch swing. Our faces are so close I can feel her breath fanning my face, and I meet her eyes before my gaze falls to her full pink lips. Before I can give it a second thought, I press a gentle kiss on her lips. I start to pull back, knowing my mistake, but before I can, she returns the kiss, and for a moment, I lean in as we tease one another’s mouths. I pull away at last and walk into the house, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and returning to apply it to her injured ankle. Hannah places her hand on the ice pack, and I remove mine before turning and jogging off away from her.

What have I done?