Page 14 of The Spider Queen
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” I breathed in rapture and excitement. “Have you?”
“Nope,” Hunter drawled. “Definitely on the list of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.”
“It almost looks like it’s been stuffed, you know? Like spider taxidermy.”
“You’re right.” Hunter’s face came close to mine as we peered into the glass.
“I have to have this.” I couldn’t wait to get home and research what kind of spider it might be.
I picked up the glass cube and walked out into the bar. Setting it in front of the bartender, I waited for the skinny guy wearing a gray vest and red bowtie to notice me.
“Found yourself a treasure, huh?” he asked with a grin. “What is it?”
I held it up to show him.
He jumped back out of irrational fear. “Put that thing away! You’ll scare customers.”
“How much?” I asked, removing the cube from his sight.
“No charge,” he clipped. “Just get it out of here.”
I smiled. “Thanks!” I didn’t care that most of the world didn’t share my enthusiasm for the misunderstood species.
“So explain it,” Hunter said when we were out of the bar and onto the sidewalk.
“Explain what?”
“The fascination with spiders.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just always there.”
We stood on the sidewalk, neither one of us ready to say goodbye but not knowing how to prolong the evening. Though I wanted to get home, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave Hunter.
Hunter stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “Should I walk you home?”
“It is getting late,” I admitted.
He smiled in understanding. “And you want to research the hell out of your new find.”
“You’re not offended?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m the same way when I find something I’m into. Can’t think about anything else.”
The way he looked at me had me suppressing a shiver.
“I’ll carry it for you, if you’d like,” he offered.
For some reason, I was strangely protective of the nearly translucent spider and clutched it tighter. “That’s okay.”
“Can I hold your hand?” he asked.
I smiled and held out my free hand to him. We meandered through the downtown streets watching college students spill onto the sidewalk, drunk and happy as they caroused the night away. I was so different from them—I didn’t envy them, or wish to join in. I was happy with myself and the way my life was going.
We turned off the main drag, the noises of people enjoying the city quieting as we ambled. It was almost silent by the time we got to my street.
“Thanks for a really good night,” I said to Hunter when we were standing on my steps.
The porch light was on, giving off a faint glow and bathing Hunter’s face in softness and shadows.
