Recluse (Spider Series Book 1) Read online

  The car went silent for another moment.

  “So … why don’t you want to date Megan again?”

  I glared at him. Only he would say something like that. He knew I was staring at him, but his smug expression remained attentive to the road before us. I wanted to punch that smirk right off his face. It was unspoken knowledge that I liked Grace, but she was a good friend and I intended to keep it that way, even if it meant having to remind myself of that fact whenever I saw her, which was every Thursday since Mike’s death.

  Caleb didn’t say another word about it. We reached the accident, took statements, and filled out paperwork. Twenty minutes later we were back in the car and headed for the station. Caleb retained his unusually silent mood, which was probably for the best. Just because he had a great life and a great family, it didn’t mean he could meddle in everyone else’s lives. I was as happy as I could be given the circumstances.

  I sat down at my desk and stared blankly at the empty space across from me. I doubted Grace even remembered today was Thursday. There was no way she was thinking about our usual friendly dinner. I exhaled and forced myself to look at the screen. Maybe progressing with Megan would be a good thing. She shouldn’t be my back-up, and I shouldn’t be hers. It was time to either make it official with Megan or to break it off. Maybe I could settle after all.

  My phone dinged in my pocket, followed by a slight clenching in my heart. Everything inside of me wanted something my brain had long denied. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and saw a message from Grace. I exhaled and my eyes landed on the vacant desk across from me. A ghostly guilt weighed down my shoulders.

  Grace: Still on for tonight?

  Me: Are you sure you want to?

  Grace: Well, it’s Thursday, isn’t it?

  Me: Yes, but today? Seriously, we can skip. It’s okay.

  Grace: I think it’s best if I’m around friends and doing normal things. Unless you don’t want to.

  I rolled my eyes. How could she not know? I shook my head. Don’t be stupid, Wyatt.

  Me: Of course, I do. I think I need to be around my friends too.

  Grace: I heard of this new restaurant in Conover.

  Me: What kind of food is it?

  Grace: BBQ … what else?

  Me: I’m so glad you’re not a vegetarian.

  Grace: Meat … all the meat.

  I smiled in the solitude of my office. My relationship with Grace was something I didn’t want to share with anyone. I liked how things were and I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship in any way.

  Me: Just scrub the hospital stank off before I pick you up.

  Grace: Everyone loves the smell of antiseptic. You’re weird.

  Me: It will ruin the smell of the meat.

  Grace: You’re a loser.

  Me: Pick you up at 7 then?

  Grace: 7:30 since you don’t like my stank. Haha.

  Me: See you then, stanky skank.

  Grace: Did you just call me a skank?

  Me: Yes. Because it was funny.

  Grace: It was funny … for a LOSER.

  Air compressed in my lungs as a laugh came from somewhere inside of me. Why was she so calm today out of all days? I tossed my phone on my desk and rested on my elbows, wiping my hands down my face. My eyes focused on the chair, scarcely used anymore. If there was one thing I knew about Mike, it was how much he would want his wife to be okay. If I could help her get through the day unscathed, then I would. Our friendship was bonded, and Mike was that bond.

  We’re just friends, I told myself. We’re just friends.

  —

  I pulled up in front of Grace’s house, and as I opened the door to my truck, she came outside. Her blonde hair was slightly damp and wrapped up in a bun on top of her head. She locked her door and pulled her heavy coat around her. When she opened the door of my truck, I plugged my nose with my finger and my thumb. She narrowed her eyes at me as she shut the door, killing the interior light.

  “What the hell are you doing, Peterman?” Her mouth pursed with a playful glare.

  “Well.” I breathed through my mouth, continuing in a nasal voice, “Not all people love the smell of antiseptic.”

  “Ugh!” She grabbed my arm, yanking my pitched fingers away from my nose. “I smell like soap now.”

  I pinched my nose again. “Hospital soap or Irish Spring?”

  “Like freakin’ rose petals.”

  She yanked my hand down and glared, a hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. She didn’t smell like rose petals, though. She carried with her a far more enticing scent. She smelled like Grace, a smell able to soothe the aching in my chest. It was a smell I despised, yet could never imagine living without.

  I slowly cranked down the window, allowing the winter chill to blend with her smell.

  “Oh, come off it,” she laughed. “Let’s go to Conover.”

  I drove away from her house and pulled onto the highway, heading away from Olde Town. Grace and I had started doing these dinners the week after Mike died. Grace and Mike’s daughter Chloe always spent Thursday nights with her grandparents, so that first Thursday after Mike’s death left Grace alone. She called me asking if we could meet at the local diner. She asked again the following Thursday, and then the one after that. I started texting her after a month, usually to ask where we were going. A few months later, this small nosy town began to stare and whisper. We started going to different towns after that. We didn’t personally know everybody in Olde Town, but we knew of people and people knew of us. Gotta love small towns.

  Grace directed me off the highway. We pulled up in front of what looked like a shack, but judging from the smell in the air, there was some good meat to be had. I got out of the truck and stood in front of it, waiting for her to get out. Normally, I liked to be a gentleman in every respect, but I dialed it back as much as possible with Grace. I felt like I had to. In an unspoken way, she preferred it.

  “You know how to pick them, Shuler,” I said as she shut her door.

  “I know … loser.” She walked ahead of me, yanking open the door to the joint.

  “Quit calling me a loser!” I followed her in, trying to wipe the stupid grin from my face.

  A sign told us to sit anywhere we pleased, so I followed Grace to a booth in the corner. The waitress came as I took off my cowboy hat. She placed our menus on the table, asked for our drink orders, and hurried away. I glanced over the menu as we waited for our beer. Grace reclined back and looked over at me. Like me, she had good days and bad days. Staring back into her eyes, I knew she was doing her best to hold it together. I just hoped she knew I was there for her. The waitress reappeared with a pitcher and two mugs. She then stood with her pencil in hand, waiting to take our order.

  “Can you give us a few minutes? We’d like to drink a beer first,” I said, reaching for the pitcher.

  She nodded and left us to our drinks. I filled a mug for Grace and then one for me. She took a sip and rested her hands in her lap, hunching over in a sulk. My smile fell at the sight of her. I wanted to make things better, but the best I could do was to offer her a shoulder to cry on. I wanted to be here for her, but I didn’t know what she needed.

  “Tell me something funny, Wyatt.”

  I took a sip of my beer and paused for thought. After placing my beer down, I pointed at her.

  “Your face.”

  She closed her eyes and chuckled silently. Her shoulders quaked as she tilted her head back and her face split into the largest smile. She let out the biggest laugh at the stupidest thing I had ever said in my life. I couldn’t help but to laugh along with her.

  And then it happened. My brain lost the war, a complete surrender. My head was my one barrier, the only thing keeping me at a distance. Any sense of control I had over the whole situation vanished. With every ounce of my being I knew all hope was gone.

  I was in love with my dead partner’s wife.

  THE REMAINDER OF dinner was spent stuffing our faces with rib
s while I did whatever I could to make her laugh. Today was hard for both of us, obviously more so her than me, but we both felt the emptiness Mike left behind. The guilt had weighed down on me for the past year, and now, gazing across the table at my partner’s widow, it felt almost too heavy to bear.

  I stared down at the few ribs left on my plate and concentrated on filling my stomach. Was I supposed to get up and leave? Should I tell her we couldn’t be friends anymore? What good would either of those things do? She liked having dinner with a friend, and for some reason, I was that friend. Mike had been my partner and my best friend, and now I owed it to him to be a friend for Grace as well. Maybe I wasn’t in love with her. Maybe I just loved her as a friend.

  I glanced up from my plate and stared across the table. She held her fork like a surgeon holding a scalpel as she carefully dissected the coleslaw on her plate. Small shavings of carrot were removed one by one and pushed aside. She hated carrots. A strand of her hair fell over her face. She pushed the remaining cabbage around her plate while mindlessly tucking the strand back behind her ear. Pleased with her work, she scooped a large bite onto her fork.

  How could I not be in love with her?

  “Carrots are good for your eyes,” I told her, positive I was staring at her as if she were the most adorable thing in the world.

  “That might be true, but they don’t belong in my coleslaw.” Her mouth closed around her fork. The corners of her eyes lifted as she smiled while chewing.

  She dropped her fork onto her plate and sat back, her eyes lingered around the dimly lit restaurant. Her shoulders rose up slightly and fell with a satisfied breath. Her gaze found mine again, but I didn’t shift my eyes away so quickly this time. I wanted her to see I was staring at her. I would probably let her see a lot of things now.

  “Wanna go to Dixie’s?” she asked, her eyes growing with excitement. “I’m off tomorrow.”

  I pulled out my wallet to dig out some money, but she reached her hand across the table and grabbed mine. “No, Wyatt. Let me pay. You always pay.”

  Her one hand remained clasped around mine while she used the other to search for the wallet in her purse.

  I shook my head at her ridiculous notion. “While I appreciate it, the truth is I never date. Can’t you be my one date a week?”

  Her hand fell but her eyes remained locked on mine. Shit. I’d said too much.

  “Well, then the drinks at Dixie’s are on me,” she said. “This is an equal society now. A friend should be able to buy a friend drinks for the evening.”

  I smiled, put the money on top of the bill, and scooted out of the booth.

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I said, putting on my hat.

  Grace sang along to the country music on the radio the entire ride to Dixie’s. Maybe Caleb was right. Maybe this was the reason I didn’t date Megan. Maybe this was the reason I didn’t date anyone. I wanted this time with Grace and I was absolutely content with our situation. Maybe in time it would wear off. Or maybe it wouldn’t. I promised myself I wouldn’t push her away or try to pull her close. I’d be whatever she needed me to be.

  More country music was playing when I pulled open the door to Dixie’s. It was the week between Christmas and New Year’s and not many people were working during the holidays so the bar was relatively full. We found two stools at the corner end of the bar, away from the mass of people. Grace took off her coat and bundled it up onto her stool.

  “Whatever beer you’re drinking is fine. I have to run to the restroom.”

  She was off before I could respond. I looked across the bar and saw Megan pouring beer into a pitcher. She moved toward me, grabbing two mugs from the freezer on her way over. She smiled as she placed the pitcher down in front of me.

  “Wyatt, don’t think I don’t know.” She poured the beer into one of the mugs and pushed it in front of my crossed arms. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar and said, “I like our fun, but I know it’s only fun.”

  I stared at her big brown eyes, the curls falling around her face. She really was beautiful, with a knockout body to match, but both of us knew we weren’t meant for each other.

  “What are you trying to say, Megan?’

  “I’m saying I want Tanner Landry. And you want Grace Shuler.”

  “Look,” I ignored the Grace part and kept the conversation about Megan. “We’re on the same level with whatever you and I are. Good friends with better benefits.”

  She laughed. It was true. We rocked. We both knew it.

  “But as a good friend, Megan, I have to be honest with you.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened, but a small smile remained.

  “Tanner’s not gonna date you.”

  “Because I’m white,” she stated this as a fact but there was a hint of a question in there as well.

  I nodded, shrugging my shoulders.

  “What is the big deal?” She huffed. “It’s the twenty-first century. Is it because his family only wants him to date black girls?”

  “No.” I shook my head, lifting the brim of my hat up so she could see how focused I was on her. “Not at all.”

  “Well, what is it then? He’s hot. And I’m not bad looking.”

  “You’re beautiful, Megan.”

  “He’s right, you are,” Grace said, moving her jacket from her stool.

  Megan poured a beer for Grace while staring at me with questioning eyes.

  “Y’all,” Grace said looking back and forth between us. “I know you hook up. Don’t be weird about it.”

  I looked at Grace. “You do?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m not that dense.” She sipped her beer. “So, what’s the context of this conversation.”

  “Tanner Landry,” Megan supplied.

  “Oh, he’s hot.” She took another sip.

  I stared at Grace as she cocked her eyebrow at me.

  “What? He is hot. Have you seen his muscles?” She waved me off, glancing at Megan. “So, you like him?”

  Megan nodded.

  “He got burned by some chick in college,” Grace explained. “He even had a ring and everything. Her dad threatened to disown her if she married him. She chose her dad’s money over him so he left Raleigh to get out of the whole situation and found his way here.”

  “You knew all of that?” I asked Grace.

  “Well, yeah. Sorry if y’all didn’t know, but Mike liked the gossip. He told me everything. Even about you two.”

  My eyes widened at her confession. She winked just to rub it in some more.

  “So,” Megan interrupted, “Because of some racist asshole years ago, Tanner won’t even look at me.”

  “Megan, we all look at you,” I said, trying my best to make her feel better. I did care for her. We had been hooking up off and on for the past two years, but we couldn’t get to that next level. Or maybe we wouldn’t let ourselves.

  “If Tanner can’t get over it, then it’s obviously his loss,” Grace added supportively.

  “Evan looks at you a little more than the rest,” I mumbled.

  “Evan?” Megan eyed me in shock. “Evan Murphy?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Well.” She smirked, pulling a towel off her shoulder and turning to walk away. “I always did have a thing for gingers.”

  Grace eyed a flyer on the bar and picked it up. She nudged my shoulder and handed me the slip of paper. I glanced at it. A New Year’s Eve party at Dixie’s.

  “It says there’s going to be a band,” she said with a smile. “You wanna go?”

  “You don’t have plans with Chloe?”

  “The gracious parents of one of her friends is hosting a slumber party at their house for all the sixth-grade girls.”

  “Oh, wow. That sounds horrible.”

  “So, you want to go?” She bit the inside of her lip.

  I pulled down the brim of my hat, attempting to hide my curiosity of her nerves.

  “Everybody needs a friend on New Year’s Eve,” I ans
wered, looking away to grab the pitcher of beer.

  “Yep.” She scooted her nearly empty mug toward me. I refilled her mug and then did the same to mine. She took another sip that quickly turned into a gulp.

  “Grace, are you sure you want to do this tonight? It hasn’t been an easy day. I won’t be offended if you just want to go home.”

  “You know…” She twisted in her stool to face me. “I knew Mike practically my entire life. He was the only person I’d ever been in love with. He made me happy. He lived every day to its fullest.”

  She exhaled and reached for her beer. Her blue eyes, slightly glazed over, met mine as she continued, “You’re right, though. Today wasn’t an easy day. None of the days have been easy, but every day gets a little better than the last. The way I look at it, two of his favorite people are spending time together. He would be happy to know that you and I have become friends.”

  She took a sip of beer, keeping the mug in her hand.“He would be so upset if I were at home crying my eyes out. He’d want the both of us sitting here, drinking beer, and being as happy as we can be.”

  My exact thoughts from earlier. I was as happy as I could be. Just knowing she was trying to be as happy as she could be while sitting here with me made everything a little easier. I raised my mug to her.

  “To the most wonderful man who ever lived.” She clanked her mug against mine, taking the words right out of my mouth.

  December 27th

  “IT WAS THE most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.”

  Jack Heavner was in the middle of another one of his stories when I stepped into the breakroom. I glanced in his direction as I headed straight to the coffee. Eyes wide, he beamed with a grin that wrinkled his shaved head. He was the guy all the girls wanted in order to piss off their parents. I rolled my eyes as I listened to more of his nightly victory. I leaned back against the counter waiting for the story of this chick to unfold. This was just another typical morning around the precinct.

  “You really have no idea,” Evan Murphy as he shook his head with a satisfaction of his own.

  Grayson Cooks asked Jack for a picture. Heavner handed Cooks his phone. He admired the picture and handed it back. If Grayson appreciated the picture, she must have been a knockout. He was picky as hell with women. If they weren’t a debutante, he wasn’t giving them a second glance; however, most debutantes didn’t really hang around police stations. Grayson Cooks was still very single.