Chapter 4 Soulmates and Ramen
Soulmates and Ramen
I barely left my room for the next two days. Sawyer brought me the food deliveries I ordered using my phone, and stayed true to his word, pretending that nothing had happened between us. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed.
On the second day, my boss called, sounding suspicious.
Not wanting to say that I had a panic attack because I got super, ridiculously horny, I lied and said I’d gotten a stomach virus.
She was very understanding, but we agreed I’d come back to work the next day.
She seemed stressed, and I had a feeling Margie wasn’t managing well on her own.
So, the third day after my episode of absolute insanity, I exited my room wearing a neon yellow “Hay Girl Hay” shirt.
Sawyer straightened in his seat at the kitchen table. “She lives! Do you want some breakfast?”
“I’m actually late. I’ll see you tonight,” I said, avoiding eye contact.
Gripping a canned coffee tightly, I slipped past him and out the door.
My heart pounded, and I had no clue if it was the lingering effect of whatever the hell had happened three days ago, or if it was anxiety over my sexcapade with Sawyer.
My cheeks burned from the memory. I did my best to shake off the lingering humiliation. Cool fall air soothed my heated skin, and by the time I reached the store, I felt almost normal.
Margie greeted me warmly at the door. “Are you feeling okay? Let me know if you need any extra breaks, or if you start to feel anxious or sick. You should take things slow today,” she babbled.
Smiling, I squeezed her wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, but I feel fine. I promise.”
“Great! They just delivered a ton of feed, and I don’t know where most of it goes. You’re so good at remembering those things.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I followed Margie to the back and began sorting bags of pellets, supplements, and treats that needed stocking.
Margie shuddered when she picked up a bag of mealworms. Chuckling, I plucked it out of her hands and gathered up the five other bags in my arms, heading to the front of the store.
“Autumn?” a low voice asked.
Jolting, my hold loosened and half a dozen bags of dried mealworms tumbled to the ground.
“Shiitake mushrooms!”
There was nothing I could do but watch them bounce off the linoleum.
Masculine hands scooped up two of the bags, tucked them against his chest, and then reached for a third.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” I said, rushing to stop the customer. Except it wasn’t just any customer. It was Thorne.
Denim eyes met mine, and my heart skipped a beat before picking up a faster rhythm.
“Let me help,” he said softly.
Not wanting to touch him, I stepped back and let him gather up all six bags of worms. “They go over here,” I said, leading the way to the correct spot.
Rising to my tiptoes, I grabbed the last remaining bag on the shelf, leaving it clear for him to set down the bags. Silently, Thorne arranged them in a tidy row, back far enough I could set the older bag in the very front.
“Thanks,” I muttered, lurching away from him the moment the task was complete.
“Autumn, wait.”
Tension coiled in my shoulders and back. Slowly, I turned to face him.
“Can we talk?”
His jaw ticked, his eyebrows rising, looking genuinely hopeful. Nope, him being cute would not get him a free pass.
My voice went high. “I’m not sure what we need to talk about. But let me know if you have any farm supply-related questions.”
Without missing a beat, Thorne answered, “You know what we have to talk about. I know you felt that, too.”
My stomach dropped. That last shred of hope that he didn’t know about my reaction the other day went up in smoke. And now I had to discuss it with him. Despite the jump in my pulse, I squared my shoulders and folded my arms over my chest, doing my best to appear confident as I faced him.
“Yeah, about that. I felt pretty sick. Did you do something to me?”
“No!” His eyes widened, but his next words were softer. “No, I would never hurt you, or drug you, or poison, or anything.”
“Then what was that?” I asked, my cheeks flushing as I remembered how my entire body had quivered with need. Even now, I could feel heat swirling low in my belly, heading south.
“We are mates,” he said simply.
My eyebrows shot up.
“Soulmates,” he corrected.
“Soulmates?” I asked dubiously.
What was this guy smoking?
“Yeah, soulmates. Did you feel drawn to me?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Aroused?”
Embarrassment mingled with outrage, sending my heart racing. “That’s so inappropriate, sir! I’m working, and you can’t just say things like that!”
He was unphased. “Because I was. And now, seeing you, I feel our connection.”
“You are fucking insane,” I muttered, upset enough that I swore in front of a customer. But he was crazy, so clearly he didn’t count. No one would hold it against me after what came out of his mouth a moment ago.
“Just let me explain more,” Thorne insisted.
“You need to leave,” I said firmly, walking toward the back. “Don’t make me call the police.”
Shoulders slumping, Thorne turned away. I couldn’t help but admire the flex of his back under his snug t-shirt, and an ass that might be bigger than mine.
Nope! We are not ogling the crazy man.
Hovering in the doorway to the back room, I watched him head to the door. He paused, looking back at me. “This connection isn’t going away. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
Great, now he was turning into a stalker.
My heart raced, my skin tingling and heat sparking low in my core. He wasn’t wrong—we had some sort of connection. What did that say about me? Was I crazy, too?
Who was I kidding? Of course I was. But not his kind of crazy. Hopefully.
Ignoring the pit of dread in my stomach, I returned to restocking the store’s shelves. Margie gave me a questioning look.
“It was the guy from the other day.”
“Oh, the gorgeous one who bought eggs?” Margie gushed.
My lip curled before I registered my reaction. A surge of hot, possessive anger hit me, and I twitched, stepping back. My emotions were all over the place since the soulmate incident.
“You okay?” Margie asked.
Tensing and dropping my shoulders, I let out my breath in a rush. “I’m still a bit off, sorry. It’s fine. Let’s get this finished up.”
The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough.
Every step felt heavy as I trudged back home. Sawyer was still at work, and I faceplanted in bed. It was too much effort to get up and make dinner.
Maybe I was actually sick…
Sawyer found me hours later, dozing, not quite asleep. He sat on the foot of the bed, not stretching out beside me like he usually would. A pang went through me. Was this another consequence of fingering myself on his lap?
“You okay?” he asked sweetly.
Instead of answering, I hooked two fingers into his hoodie pocket and dragged him down beside me.
I needed him, and he promised things would go back to the way they were.
He wrapped his arms around me, and I nuzzled into his chest, letting his cozy scent and warmth envelop me. Everything was okay when I had Sawyer.
“Did something happen?” he asked, stroking down my back.
“That dude showed back up,” I mumbled against his hoodie.
Every one of his muscles went taut, and his snuggly chest and stomach became a wall.
“What dude?”
Grumbling, I tipped myself over to lay on my back. Sawyer pulled his bottom arm free and propped himself up with it, his top arm still resting on my stomach. His large hand opened, fingers flexing before relaxing over my skin.
Swallowing, I drew in a measured breath and forced myself to answer.
“The other day, a couple of guys came into the store. And for whatever reason, that’s what set off my panic attack, or whatever freak out that was.”
“Why? Did they touch you?” His voice darkened, and I frowned at him, my brows pinching as I canted my head.
His jaw flexed, his throat working. There was an intensity there I didn’t recognize.
My exhale whooshed out audibly. “No, of course not. Well, the big one touched my hand. But that was nothing.”
The electricity that flowed between us was definitely not nothing, but I couldn’t even begin to describe that to Sawyer. And I didn’t want to. It felt private. Plus, what would he think?
He studied my face. “What happened today?”
“Nothing!”
He claimed we were soulmates.
In the past, I would have thought Sawyer would laugh at that, but he was deadly serious beside me. Honestly, I was scared of his reaction, so I kept it to myself.
“Look, nothing happened. He was being a little creepy, but I told him to get lost. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl.”
Sawyer’s lip curled, showing straight white teeth. His canine teeth were pointier-looking than average, and I’d always thought it was sexy. Now, he looked like a predator, one that would protect me from any threat.
Sighing, I reached out and tugged on his shirt, pulling him closer.
“Can things just go back to normal?”
Hesitating, Sawyer’s emerald gaze roamed my face. He reached up and brushed my hair back, the pad of his fingers skimming my temple and cheek.
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” I said, scooting closer so we could resume snuggling. I needed his strong, steady presence more than ever after the last few days. At least I wasn’t mind-numbingly horny anymore. It was more of a medium level of horny, and I could definitely ignore it.
“I want to walk you to work from now on. At least for a while,” he said quietly.
Without waiting for my answer, he threaded his fingers into my hair, digging into the back of my skull. Groaning, I turned my head to give him better access, letting him massage my neck. His wrist rubbed against the skin below my ear.
“Here, roll over,” he said.
Sighing, I settled on my belly. Sawyer straddled my hips and began massaging my back, pressing his thumbs into the muscles along my spine, and dragging firm hands down my upper arms.
Colors danced behind my eyes at the pleasure. This man knew how to touch me.
Sawyer eased my shirt up and pressed his fingers into my lower back, squeezing my waist and dragging inward. A moan escaped me, and he chuckled.
“Better?” he asked, climbing off of me.
I nodded, and he grinned. “Good, now I’ll go make us some dinner.”
“You’re the best,” I mumbled, too relaxed to move.
It was the smell of ramen that finally lured me out of my room. My muscles still felt like jelly, but Sawyer made the best noodles, so I dragged myself to the sofa. He’d queued up one of my comfort shows, and had my bowl ready to eat.
“I fucking love you,” I muttered, accepting the dish.
Sawyer’s grin was radiant, displaying those beautiful teeth.
“You too, Pumpkin.” He straightened, starting the show with a press of a button.
Feeling a million times better, I leaned into him, letting my temple rest on his shoulder. After we finished eating, he set our dishes aside and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Two episodes later, he was laying on his back, and I was curled against his side, my cheek on his chest.
Thorne talked about us being soulmates, but how could anyone else besides Sawyer be my soulmate? I’d probably never even have a serious boyfriend because none of them could compete with how well he treated me.
Smiling, I let my eyes drift closed, knowing that Sawyer would carry me to my room if I fell asleep on the couch.