Page 19 of The Route to You

He cringed, feeling like an asshole. What would his sisters say? She was clearly uncomfortable, probably feeling unsafe, and here was that proverbial bear or the man in the woods scenario. They’d never forgive him if he didn’t make her feel like she’d found safety here with him, no matter what had happened between them in the past.

He went back toward her, slowly, then grabbed the kettle with a potholder. “I’m not trying to pry, but is there anything I can do to help?”

Sloan peeled her wet snow cap off and sank back down toward the stove again. “No, I just . . .” She sighed and took her gloves off, then ran her fingers through her wavy blond hair. “I just canceled my wedding.”

You what?

“. . . and I can’t go back. No one will understand. So, I made a reservation to spend the night at the cabin and lay low, figure out what the hell I’m going to do. And now”—her breath went shallow, her shoulders bunching—“and now . . .”

Oh no.

Kyle poured the hot water into the bowl, watched the steam rise, and set the kettle down. This wasn’t his strong suit—the last relationship he’d had was a couple of years ago and hadn’t lasted more than three months because he was always traveling.

But this wasn’t a standard stressful situation he was used to handling with his sisters. This was an I just canceled my wedding to a congressman the night before the wedding situation. He was completely unequipped to handle something like this.

He turned toward her slowly, then closed the gap between them, trying to leave her enough personal space as he crouched in front of her. “Just take a deep breath. Want some water?”

She nodded, and he reached toward the other side of the brick platform holding the stove, where he’d put the package of water bottles he’d picked up from the store on his way in here. He loosened one from the plastic and held it out to her. “Might be a little warm, but it’s better than frozen.”

Sloan uncapped it, fingers trembling. Gems twinkled from her manicured fingernails, and he clenched his jaw. What the hell is going on? Why did she seem so . . . shaken?

It also was strange. Even if Elle or Liddy had realized the night before their weddings that they didn’t want to get married—which he couldn’t even imagine, because they’d been so happy—they definitely wouldn’t have taken off without talking to him or Mom and Dad. “So . . . did something happen?”

She nodded, not meeting his gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it. I know what you’re thinking—how pathetic this is, showing up at the cabin of my ex-boyfriend the night before I’m supposed to get married.”

He sat back on his heels, clasping his hands in front of him. “Nah, that’s not what I was thinking.”

That seemed to provoke her curiosity, something cautious and guarded in her eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“I was thinking that you must be feeling backed into a corner to think your family wouldn’t understand if you don’t want to go through with a life-changing decision.”

She frowned. But her shoulders seemed to relax some, the muscles of her jaw softening.

When she still didn’t respond, Kyle stood, then grabbed the bowl of ramen and the camp utensil set. He presented both to her with an awkward smile. “It’s the only silverware I have. I washed it after the last time I used it, though.”

She settled onto the wooden floor, tucking her legs to the side. “I don’t think I’ve had ramen since I was a freshman in college.”

Sounds about right. That would be when we were still dating.

“It’s one of my specialties,” he said with a grin, then grabbed his camp stool and sat a few feet away. “The other options were tuna fish and peanut butter crackers, so really, this is basically fine dining.” At the risk of letting her know he’d watched her a few times tonight, he said, “But you didn’t seem to eat a lot tonight at dinner, so I thought you might be hungry.”

She shook her head, as though she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the reality of the moment. “Hard to believe two hours ago I was eating caviar on brioche toast.”

“See, you’ve moved up in the world already. But I would believe it. I witnessed it, remember?”

Sloan gave a dry chuckle, then dug the fork into the noodles, which steamed as she lifted them. “My family’s going to kill me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I don’t think. I know. They don’t have the best opinion of me.” She ate a forkful, chewing slowly, her eyes drifting to his hands. “You married, Kyle? Have a girlfriend or fiancée or something?”

“Nope.” He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t know anything about him now. Maybe she’d set him as far back into the furthest recesses of her mind as he’d placed her. He settled back into his chair and crossed his arms. “I’m a proud, card-carrying member of the Perpetual Knights of the Table for One.”

“Well, I doubt that’s real⁠—”

“It’s extremely real,” he said. “We meet on Tuesdays. The dress code is sweatpants. No one speaks unless it’s to ask if the leftovers are still safe.”

Her eyes softened again. “I meant, if it’s true you’re single, I’m sure that’s a choice, not a permanent state.”