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He sighs and steps back from me, breaking our physical contact. “But something bad did happen to you.”
“The story ended well, Graham. I am fine. Been through much worse.”
“Let’s go inside and make a list of everyone who interacted with you at the bar. I need to figure out who would slip something in your drink. Whether you were specifically chosen or just randomly selected.”
It is a waste of my time other than keeping my little secret hidden. I am almost out of my stash anyway—without any means of replenishment unless I find a doctor who acknowledges my residual effects from the car accident. Until then, all of this will just be in my past.
“Okay,” I agree.
I follow Graham past the huge double doors that lead to his home. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. You can tell a lot about a man from his living area. I quickly kick off my shoes.
“You can keep them on,” he says, passing by the kitchen and dining room into the open space with all of the windows.
“I would prefer to take them off,” I insist. When Mom was diagnosed with cancer, we adopted a bunch of practices to avoid bringing in germs. Taking off our shoes was one of those things. The habit stuck with me.
“Make yourself at home.”
My feet feel the chill from the tiles as I follow Graham into what appears to be the living room. He sits down on the contemporary sofa to remove his shoes. I continue to the edge of the room that overlooks the city. The view is magnificent. I can see the city park, the shopping district, and the mountains in the distance.
“Breathtaking, huh?” Graham asks, startling me by his close presence.
I turn to see his eyes smolder. “Yes,” I breathe.
I can smell his masculine scent emanating from his body. It is unique and only Graham. My body shivers.
“I’m going to start a fire,” he says, retreating to the opposite side of the room. “Why don’t you relax on the couch? Put your feet up.”
I move over to the sofa and sink into it, surprised that something so modern looking can be so comfy. I curl my feet up under my thighs to try to keep them warm. I regret not taking the pair of hospital gripper socks with me during discharge. I look around the room while Graham works at the fire. Everything seems very sterile and minimal. It's as if this is a house and not a home. No pictures, no personalized artwork. The décor of the room is in the grayscale; the foyer had more life. The only signature piece of furniture is the beautiful glass coffee table that has a rock formation as the center pedestal. It looks one-of-a-kind. Expensive.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, soda?” Graham asks.
“Tea sounds good.”
“Preference on flavor?”
“Surprise me,” I say with a smile, “but please add honey if you have it.”
Graham disappears into the kitchen, and I can see him over the high countertop. He turns on the lights, and I move from my perch to get a better view of the layout. I creep closer and earn a smirk from him in the process.
“What’s with your gender and kitchens?” he asks with a chuckle. “And here I thought you were someone who cared more about removing the stigma of women belonging in the kitchen…”
I give him a sheepish look and continue to be nosy.
I move into the main area and admire the contemporary stainless steel appliances. The quartz island takes up the majority of the space but yet does not look hideous or overbearing. I watch as Graham seamlessly removes teacups, a kettle, and loose leaf tea from the various cabinets. He fills the kettle with water, measures out the correct amount of tea for the diffuser, and places the device onto the burner.
Someone taught him well. I just hope it wasn’t an ex-girlfriend.
His eyes twinkle with mischief as he catches me staring. “Amused by what you see, Miss McFee?”
“Yup.”
“Is that so?” He shoots me an adorable smirk.
“Uh-huh.”
“And what has you so intrigued?”
My eyebrows lift suggestively. I am too shy to admit that I find him absolutely sexy—especially when he catches me off guard. Witnessing him move around his kitchen being domestic is equivalent to watching chore porn for the first time. I smile to myself as I wonder the effect he would have on me if he decided to vacuum.
