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Charity nodded. “Exactly. Not that she named names, but she has someone in mind for the good doctor of Pecan Valley.”
Great. Graham rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“He’s so not interested.” Diana jumped in, stealing a roll from his plate. “She’s been trying to set Dad up for a while now. I keep telling him he needs to get out more. I mean, look at him—he’s totally a hottie. And he’s obnoxiously focused. And loaded.”
His daughter was giving him compliments…sort of. “Um, thanks?” But now Honor and Nick, Charity and Felicity were all studying him openly, and he didn’t like it.
“OMG, Dad, you’re totally blushing.” Diana giggled.
He stared at his daughter, seeing his baby girl, giggling and carefree, with no trace of her normal hostility. He smiled back, etching everything about that moment into his mind.
“Well, this got awkward.” Nick grabbed the ice cream tub, turning to Diana. “You play Black Ops?”
“Um, do I? You wanna get your ass kicked, lead the way,” Diana said, sliding off the kitchen chair.
“Can’t we play Mario Cart?” Honor asked, following them. “You know, something without exploding body parts or weapons of mass destruction?”
“Whatever happened to board games? Like Clue?” Charity asked.
“Nah, come on, Aunt Charity. I bet you can kill-shot zombies like a boss.” Nick nudged his aunt, teasing. The kid had a great smile.
Graham sat watching as the kitchen emptied of everyone but Felicity and him. “Who knew ice cream was the cure for teenage angst?”
“I’m afraid the effects might be temporary. But I’ll take what I can get.” Felicity laughed. “Hope you don’t have any plans because it looks like you’re staying for a while.” She slid the plate in front of him. “Once Nick gets plugged in, it’s all over.”
“Diana’s the same.” He didn’t mind staying. Better than going home, waiting for the opportune moment to search his daughter’s room for any cause for concern. Additional concern. Worrying about his daughter had become a twenty-four-hour occupation. This was as close to a break as he was going to get.
“It’ll do him some good. Diana, too.” She looked at him, thoughtful, as if she had more to say.
He waited, wanting to know what she was thinking. But she only smiled and went back to tidying, and he turned all his attention to the plate she’d made for him. It was piled high. He shot her a look, loving her answering impish grin.
“I hate to throw food out.” Her hands smoothed the plastic wrap over a tray of brownies.
“You can’t expect me to eat all of this?”
“You can do it. According to your daughter, your pantry is bare.” She glanced at him, opening the fridge. “You have to take care of yourself, for her. You know that, right? She watches you.”
“Glares at me.” He swallowed a bite of turkey. “That’s impressive.” With his fork, he pointed at the strategically packed shelves of her refrigerator. “You weren’t kidding about the food.”
“I’m sending some home with you. That pudding thing for sure.”
He laughed. “Just what I wanted.”
“I thought as much.” She closed the refrigerator door and faced him. “No matter how she acts—Diana, I mean—she’s paying attention to what you do. Probably more than you realize. I know it’s been a while since we talked but…how are you?” That green gaze locked with his.
“You’re asking me how I am?” Her question made him feel like an even bigger ass. He and Diana had been doing this dance for a couple of years now. Felicity, her kids, were facing a whole new sort of hell. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
“You go first,” she pushed, a furrow forming between her brows. “Graham?”
“I’m hanging in there.” Which was true. “Every day it gets easier.” Which wasn’t true but he couldn’t bear to unload on her.
“Good. Julia wouldn’t want you to hold on to the hurt. You know that.” There were tears in her eyes. Because she’d loved Julia, too. “She loved seeing you both happy. She’d want that now.”
The lump in his throat doubled in size, preventing him from answering her. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to think about Julia beyond the sickness and loss.
“I’m sorry.” Felicity covered his hand with hers. “It’s none of my business and I—”
He stared down at her hand, covered it with his. The touch was casual enough, but it meant more than she could understand. Affection of any sort was no longer commonplace in his life. And her hand was so soft and warm in his. “Don’t be. You’re right. It’s a good reminder.” He smiled at her. “Need more of them.”
