The Recluse - Page 14

But he insisted, almost demanded, and after the first couple times of my initial awkwardness, I started looking forward to these moments where we sat across from each other and just talked. He was a quiet man, reserved, very personal. And that’s how it had always been with him.

But I felt like he opened up to me, little by little, piece by piece. He wanted to know so much about me... the little things, what I liked and disliked, what my favorite season was, if I preferred horror or comedy movies. And telling him about me was so easy. I wanted to share bits of myself with the man I was falling for harder each day.

It was dangerous to feel these things, and a part of me wished I could stop.

I actually felt myself smile as I thought of those things, how he made me feel. Thinking about him pushed away the horrible experience at the grocery store. I inhaled, just letting it sink in, just letting myself absorb it.

I’d have to face these feelings eventually. I couldn’t keep pushing them down, couldn’t keep hiding them. And although eventually I’d have to be honest with him, because it would just be too hard working for Fin while my feelings for him continued to grow, a part of me thought that maybe this wasn’t one-sided.

The way he looked at me constantly, as if he always had to know where I was, certainly wasn’t something an employer did. Not that I experienced anyway.

So maybe if I was honest, he’d be honest as well?

Or maybe if I told him the truth, I’d lose my job, have to go back into the city, and I’d never feel this way for another person again.9FinIf I were being honest, Kitty leaving the house set me on edge. I didn’t like her away from me, and I didn’t want to scare her off by being overly possessive. But when she told me she was going to the store to get groceries for the week, I nearly told her I’d take her.

Don’t smother her.

Don’t scare her off.

That’s what I told myself over and over again, and I’d been surprised as hell at myself that I actually listened to that inner voice. I hadn’t wanted to, that was for damn sure, but I let her go, watched her take my Suburban, insisting she use that vehicle because it was the safest, because it was big like a fucking tank.

And when an hour passed, then nearly two hours, I started to pace, feeling like a trapped tiger. The town is a good half hour away, I kept telling myself. It would take time to get there, for her to shop, for her to come back.

I needed to quit being an obsessive, crazy asshole. But thinking these things, feeling this way for Kitty, came naturally, so naturally it should terrify me.

But it didn’t.

I tried to focus on work while she’d been gone, but I realized that not having her in the house, not knowing she was near and safe, made it impossible.

There was an alert from the security system that let me know a vehicle was at the gate. I looked at the monitor and saw the SUV, actually breathing out in relief. I felt like this weight lifted off my chest, knowing she was finally back.

Once she pulled the vehicle to a stop in front of the house, I was out of my seat and heading outside. I opened the front door and made my way down the steps just as she was getting out of the driver side. She popped the back of the vehicle, and I went around to start grabbing bags.

“You don’t have to help,” she said softly, and I waved off her comment.

Of course I was going to help. What kind of man would I be if I made her do this shit on her own?

It took about five minutes to get all the groceries in the house. I noticed she was avoiding me, not looking at me, keeping her distance. It didn’t sit well with me and had my hackles rising. I followed her into the kitchen and studied her face. She looked nervous as she continued to bite her bottom lip, pulling at the pink flesh.

“Is everything okay?” The first thing that came to mind, that had every protective instinct rising in me, was something happened in town. She seemed fine before she left, but now? Now, she looked—acted—almost on edge.

She nodded and said, “I’m fine.”

I was successful in what I did, not only because I knew how to run a multimillion-dollar company, but because I also knew how to read people. I knew when they were lying, knew when they were nervous. And there was definitely something wrong with Kitty. I was also successful at what I did, because I didn’t allow a challenge to go unchecked. And if I wanted something— the truth—I didn’t stop until it was mine, until I uncovered it, until I knew all its secrets.

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