Page 110 of The Spider & the Storm

“I'd go with you.”

An exhale escaped my nose, and I tightened the line of my mouth. I didn't want to feel so aggravated by her well-intentioned insistence, but she had no idea what those state lines held for me. Was that her fault? No. But did it make it any less difficult for me to pretend there was nothing wrong? Also no.

“Why didn't you tell me you were from Connecticut?” she asked as if she could read my mind.

I had decided I wouldn't lie to her, so I sighed and said, “Because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” she pressed.

“Stormy …” I propped my elbow onto the window ledge and pressed my palm to my forehead.

She stared at the side of my face, eyes narrowed like she was trying to fit the puzzle pieces together herself. Then, she cocked her head, her brows rising with realization, and I braced myself.

“Is this about your brother?”

That palm slid down the length of my face. “It's part of it,” I replied. Not a lie.

“I don't care about your brother.”

I shot a glare at her. “Don't say that. You have no idea what he did, or—”

“I don't care,” she repeated, enunciating every syllable. “And if you think that me knowing where you're from is going to make me suddenly want to run a Google search on you, think again. I mean, for fuck's sake, I don't even know your last name—”

“Corbin,” I offered, and it didn't rattle me nearly as much as I’d thought it would to say it aloud.

“Corbin,” she repeated on a soft exhale, bobbing her head gently. “Well, Charlie Corbin, I won't be running a background check. But I do hope you'll go to your friend's wedding, and if you need a plus-one—”

“Why are you staying at the hotel?” I asked, parking the truck outside the shed that housed the ride-on mower.

She was taken aback by the abrupt change of subject, and honestly, so was I. I guessed the question had been nagging at me for too long, and I finally couldn't take it anymore.

“The house my apartment is in is under construction,” she explained with an exasperated sigh.

I nodded, looking out the truck window in the direction of my cottage. I thought about what Ivan had said, about how she was good for me, and, God, I knew how right he was. Waking up, going through my usual routine, and beginning the day with her at my side had been easy and comfortable, like I'd been doing it every day for the past thirty-something years of my life.

Ivan had mentioned that, while his relationship might've been new, the roots of his feelings for her felt like they'd been growing for a long time. It had sounded crazy to me at the time, and, fuck, I still thought it was crazy … but then why was I also starting to think it made at least a little sense?

If soulmates existed—and I believed they did—wasn't it possible for that affection to have been there, manifesting and building, over the course of … well … forever?

Now, I'm starting to sound crazy too.

“Hey, you okay over there?”

I blinked and turned to Stormy, realizing I must've gotten too wrapped up in my brain, probably staring into space.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She smiled, tipping her head and sweeping her gaze over my face. “What're you thinking about?”

“Check out of your hotel,” I blurted out before the thought had a chance to circulate my brain, before I had the time to reconsider. “Stay with me until your apartment is ready.”

The smile fell from her face as shock took over, her brows lifting and her eyes widening. “You're serious?”

I nodded, now certain this was an excellent idea. “It just seems silly to pay for a hotel room when I'm right here.”

“But … where would I leave my car?” she asked quietly, as if she was trying to find a reason this wouldn't work out while a spark of hope ignited in her eyes. “I do have a job I have to get to, and you lock the gate for the night before I'm—”

“I'll let you back in,” I quickly replied.

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