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I nodded.
He crossed the kitchen and pulled me into a hug. I melted into his embrace and nuzzled my face into his neck.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly.
I shook my head and hugged him tighter.
“Okay. I’ve got you.” He kissed my cheek and rubbed my back.
I drew in a breath and focused on how good it felt to be in Graham’s arms. How something as simple as a hug from the man I loved could calm my mind and chase the tension from my body.
I’d never had anyone I could rely on for emotional support. I had friends, and I had Sloane, but there was something fundamentally different about leaning on a friend over having a partner.
One of the best things about Graham’s hugs was that he was never the first to let go. He’d hold me forever if I needed it, and that made me feel safe and cared for. Two things I hadn’t known often in my life.
“What do you need tonight?” he asked softly.
“This is a good start.” Reluctantly, I pulled away from our hug.
He held me at arm’s length and studied me. “How about we take a shower together, then have some dinner?”
“That sounds good.” I looked around the kitchen, just then noticing how incredible it smelled. “What’d you make?”
Grinning, he took my hand. “Shrimp risotto.”
I let him lead me out of the kitchen and toward his bathroom. “Is this the same one you made a few weeks ago, or a new one?”
“New one. This has feta and chili oil in it.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“I hope so.”
Another perk of our relationship was that I got to be Graham’s taste tester when he came up with new recipes. He was currently trying to expand his repertoire of meals that could be prepped and frozen ahead of time in anticipation of expanding his home cooking business when things at his construction job were less busy.
“I made Nanaimo bars for dessert.” He pulled me into the bathroom and kicked the door closed.
“You did?”
“Yup. Arms up.”
I lifted them and he stripped off my scrub shirt.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never had one.” He pecked a kiss against my lips. “I made enough you can take a batch to work tomorrow. And I made another for Sloane and Aimee.”
“Have I told you that you’re my favorite person?” I dropped my arms and stood still as he undid my scrub pants and let them fall to the floor.
“A few times.” He smirked. “Usually when there’s either food, or my dick involved.”
“I mean, can you blame me with the way you cook? And your dick is a work of art. I’m not seeing an issue here.”
He laughed, his eyes glittering playfully. “I thought that was your dick?”
“Nope. It’s both.”
He whipped off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. “Good to know you can be bought with food and sex.”
“I’m a simple man.”
