Despite the fact that he really did hate running, Dawson found himself up an hour earlier the next day taking care of his morning duties so that he could join Layla, Marshall, and his sister on a run.

The three of them were stretching by the house, the couple following Layla's instructions. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, body donned in leggings and a matching sports bra, both of which looked like they were made just for her. He'd been wondering if he was crazy for even considering putting himself through this torture, but one look at her—especially when she was dressed like that—had all those thoughts silenced in a second.

Layla smiled as he approached, but tilted her head when her eyes trailed over him, taking in his clothing. "You're coming?"

Kenzie's head perked up, and she grinned when her eyes found him. "Yay!"

Layla's eyes narrowed, but her smile only grew. "I thought you hated running."

Dawson shrugged, too enamored by the joy on her face to worry or care if she saw right through him and knew he was there for her. "It's been awhile since I did any. I figured maybe I'd see if my thoughts have changed."

"Well you'll hate it a lot less if you stretch."

He stood next to her, followed her instructions, and tried not to lose his balance with each new maneuver. What had gotten into him? What was it about Layla that had him standing next to her doing calf stretches at six in the morning?

Maybe some of it was that he was looking to finish their conversation from yesterday. He was just curious about her engagement. Curious about why, of any topic she could have diverted to, she went straight to his love life. Probably just to get even. But maybe, maybe for another reason. A reason that was more aligned with his own.

Damn Jack for interrupting. And damn himself for letting him—he could've told Jack to give him a minute. Yeah, it might've caused an argument, but these days everything seemed to.

Still, if that was his reasoning, it was stupid reasoning. They couldn't talk while they were running, especially not when she was in front and he was stuck between Marshall and Kenzie. And even if they had been near each other, he couldn't bring up all the things he wanted to with the couple around.

Was he trying to impress her? He guessed that was part of it. But more than that, he was just looking to be around her. It was the reason that made the least sense to him, and yet it was the one he couldn't deny. She was only here for eleven more days, and acknowledging that made a weight settle in his stomach.

The run, even if it did set his lungs on fire, was a good way to check the grounds for the day. The sky was pink from the sunrise, and the trees were rustling in the crisp breeze that hinted at the cooler weather to come, but the orchard ran like usual, even with his change in schedule. In an hour or so the extra hands would get here to help harvest and care for the trees. But for now, it was just Jack running numbers in his office and Adam opening the shop.

When they finally circled back to the house, he was sure of it: he hated running. But the wide smile on his sisters face and the high five she offered him was enough to make it worth the pain.

"God, I can't believe I find this fun," she said, adjusting her ponytail. Some of her curly brown bangs had escaped the hairclip holding them back, and were now stuck to her forehead. "I always thought I hated exercise. I guess it was just gym class."

Layla smiled—if it wasn't for the light sheen of sweat on her skin, Dawson would have thought she looked completely unaffected by the run. "I'm glad you gave yourself the chance to change your mind."

"Me too. But I'll miss having guidance when you're gone. I keep wishing New York wasn't so far away."

Layla shrugged. "I have some clients all the way in other countries. We do workouts over video chat, and I send them updated meal plans and exercise routines every Monday. I'd be more than happy to keep you two as clients, if you're interested."

"Really?" Kenzie gasped with a grin. "I would love that! You'll still be taking new clients on, even with the wedding and everything?"

"I don't see why not. I'm not very busy—our parents and the wedding planner are taking care of everything."

"Of course, you'll have to take time off for the honeymoon," Dawson kept his voice flat, deadpan. And with the way her eyes narrowed at him, he knew she understood he was being facetious. He crossed his arms, holding her gaze, silently questioning: how could she talk about it so casually? Standing there shrouded in lies like it was no big deal.

The couple didn't catch on though, both nodding at his words.

"That's true," Marshall agreed. "Kenzie's already put in vacation for ours, and I've been adjusting things at work to schedule one in."

"We're going to a resort in Mexico," Kenzie explained as Marshall took a long swig from his water bottle. "Have you guys decided?"

"Umm..." Her eyes shot to Dawson, as if she was expecting him to interrupt, to call her out. "It's still up in the air. We can't seem to agree."

"I gotta get some more water before the second half," Marshall said, holding up his empty canister.

"I'll come too." Kenzie took a sip from her own bottle. "I could use a refill."

"I'll set up inside," Layla said, heading towards the shed as they started up the porch stairs.

Dawson followed her, waiting until they were out if earshot to speak. When he did, his words had a bite that he couldn't hold back. "Does it bother you? Lying to everyone like that?"

She came to a rigid stop in front of the shed doors, and turned to him with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Lying about your relationship. Doesn't it make you feel bad? Guilty?"

"Why..." She blinked, let out a breath of disbelief. "What is your problem?"

"My problem is that you can stand there and lie to my sister's face without batting an eye." Irritated heat flushed through his body. "She's genuinely happy for you—hell, my whole family is—and you're lying to all of them. And my problem is that now that I know the truth, I'm a liar, too."

"You're the one who wanted to know, who hounded me about all this!" she laughed out. "So what, now you want to tell them the truth?" She shrugged dramatically, lips tight with annoyance. "Fine, go ahead. I'm not in charge of that decision."

"You think I would do that to you?" He jabbed a hand at his chest. He wanted her to know him better than that. It was a ridiculous desire, after only a few days, and it only made him more irritated. "Well I wouldn't. And it wouldn't fix the issue I have if I was the one who told them what's really going on. This is your responsibility."

"The only thing I'm responsible for is the job I was hired to do. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but maybe you should have thought harder about your morals before you cornered me into telling you the truth."

He knew that was bullshit. The passion she had for all this made it more than just a job, and he knew she wasn't lying in cold blood. But if she wouldn't admit it willingly, then there was no point trying to force it out of her.

He let out a quick huff of air through his nose, backing away with a shake of his head. "I should go."

"Yes, I agree." She crossed her arms, standing her ground. But they came undone to flail in frustration with an aggravated groan. "God, what is it with you? We were getting along fine, and now it's like you're trying to make me angry."

"I'm not." He fought to make his voice light. "I'm just... I think things would be easier for you—better for you—if you told everyone the truth. Not just my family, but yours, too."

This earned him an eyeroll and a condescending, "As if you would know anything about it."

He stepped forward, even though his brain was yelling at him to just leave. And the way her gaze softened at the advance reminded him exactly why he was challenging her in the first place. She shouldn't have to be so tough. She was about to put herself through hell, and even if she was strong enough to withstand it, she shouldn't have to.

This time, his voice was gentle all on its own. "I know you shouldn't spend your life being unhappy just to appease your family."

As she raised her chin the softness disappeared from her features, and an unfamiliar heat rose to his face. He'd said the wrong thing, and for once, he cared.

"Now you're just proving my point. I'm not doing it to appease them, Dawson, I'm doing it to appease myself. If this wasn't what I wanted, if this wasn't what I thought was best, then I wouldn't be doing it."

He crossed his arms, taking a second to study her. More than just the fire of her hair or the depth of her eyes, but the way she stood in full confidence, looking at him down the bridge of her nose like she knew a thousand things he didn't. She was sure of herself.

"So you really think you can be happy married to a man you don't love, who doesn't love you, for the rest of your life?" The hostility in his voice had now been completely replaced by curiosity.

She shook her head and scoffed out a humorless laugh. "I wouldn't have ended up happy whether I was getting married or not."

His throat tightened at the words. Trying to think of something to say that would change her mind was pointless; he didn't know how to reply. She said it with such resigned certainty that he wasn't sure anything he did say would have mattered.

The creaking of the manor's front door signaled Kenzie and Marsh's return, but Layla didn't look away from his eyes. It was Dawson who dropped his gaze, muttering to no one in particular that he had to get to work. 

if you're going on a RUN just to be around somebody... I think you're in deeper than you realize 🤭