Page 9 of Knotting Autumn

“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 thesoulmateincident.

“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?”