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We lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of us eating quicker than was probably necessary. The lasagna was just so cheesy and comforting that it was hard to slow down. The wine paired perfectly, but I decided not to ask him if he’d grown the grapes. Chances were—and knowing his family—he probably owned a vineyard or two.
“This is really good,” I finally admitted, leaning away from a plate I’d cleared three times. The combination of food and drink had me feeling warm and relaxed. “What else do you know how to make?”
“Stick around and find out.”
“Really? All this has been to try to convince me to stay here?”
“And this,” he said, easing close to me and kissing me lightly on the lips. It was the briefest and softest of brushes, but I felt like I’d been seared. Maybe it was the spicy lasagna or the red wine that lingered. I had to pause to contemplate what it all meant—to catch my breath and wonder what came next.
“You’ve been sleeping with me to try to convince me to stay here and work for you?” I asked quietly, horrified as I anticipated the answer.
The sweep of shock across his features made me look away.
“Heather, I slept with you because I wanted to. Because I was attracted to you,” he said. “Period. That is the one and only reason—and also because I thought you wanted to. Because we make each other feel good.”
“But the gifts,” I said. “Hank, my dog, the car, the freaking whiskey—all of it. It was to bribe me to stay?”
“It wasn’t a bribe, per se.” He sounded cagey and secretive even though he didn’t so much as bat an eye.
I groaned. “Ugh, save it. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. To think that you would respect my wishes, respect what I actually wanted.”
“But do you really want to go back to New York? Is that what you seriously want?”
“I can’t pretend as if nothing happened,” I said. “I can’t live my life in hiding.”
“You’re not hiding. You’re seeking out happiness.” Graham put his fork down and took my hand. “Aren’t you happy here?”
I hastily pulled my hand from his. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t belong here. I have a whole other life in New York that you have no idea about.”
“I know you know all the good places to eat.”
“It’s a lot more than that.” I was starting to sweat. It felt like panic, but I preferred to attribute it to the meal and wine. “There are things I need to face in New York. If I don’t find some kind of closure after what happened between my fiancé and my best friend, then I’m never going to be able to move on.”
“You’ve already moved on,” Graham said almost urgently, seizing my hand again. “Don’t you see it, Heather? That’s the best closure there is—proof you can be happy somewhere else, with someone else. With me.”
Inexplicably, I felt like crying. I bit back my feelings, trying to get myself under control. As much as I wanted to, weeping wouldn’t solve anything.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said at last. “I don’t want to be hurt like I was ever again. I can’t take it.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I refuse to.” Graham studied his plate for a long time before heaving himself off of his stool. “Give me a minute.”
He left the kitchen, which gave me a real chance of recovering my composure. I came here furious, ready to put Graham in his place about expecting me to stay here, but everything was so complicated now. I couldn’t deny the feelings I had for him because it was more than just a simple attraction. Still, it didn’t mean I wasn’t scared. Charlie and Shauna had hurt me deeply; in ways that I hadn’t had time to quantify and examine. It wasn’t fair that Graham and I had fallen in with each other like this. If it had been a year from now, or six months even, maybe there could’ve been something viable between us.
But a month after ending my engagement was way too soon for something serious—uprooting myself and moving back across the country for a relationship I wasn’t even sure of yet.
I had to do something. If I sat on that stool for even a moment longer, I was going to lose it.
I slid off and gathered up our plates and utensils before crossing the kitchen to dump them in the sink with the rest of Graham’s mess from cooking. There looked to be a professional-grade dishwasher installed, but I needed something to do with my hands, something to distract me from this surge of feelings rushing through me.
Feelings I was afraid to name.
16
Heather
Iattacked the pots and pans like they were the ones that had cheated on me, irreversibly altered the trajectory of my life, and complicated the feelings I had for a man I thought I could, in any other given circumstance, love. None of it was fair, none of it was easy, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. There didn’t seem like a right way forward.
Several somethings plinked down on the counter beside the sink, and I blinked up to discover Graham with a bottle of that freaking whiskey and a pair of glasses. My face felt flushed from the hot water and the sweat of my sudden burst of exertion, but when I went to wipe what I thought was dishwater from my cheek, it felt more like tears.
