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Claire let out a laugh. “Me, in the wilderness, with the two of you? Pass.”
He pouted. “Fine. I’ll settle for dinner out tonight.”
She checked the clock. “A little early for dinner, isn’t it?”
“Woman, I’m hungry and I can communicate again and I can see the sky. Don’t ruin this for me.”
With a snort, Claire turned onto the main road. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go have dinner with the rest of the septuagenarians. I know just the place.”
Graham smiled in satisfaction, leaned his head back and rolled down his window. His wavy, dark hair rustled around his forehead with the breeze and he rested his forearm on the window frame, opening his fingers to the air rushing by. In no time at all he went from teasing to content, lost in the open air and sounds of outside, even here in the city.
He really loved it, and Claire made a note to suggest they sit on the porch more often during the rest of his recovery.
Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of Tagine, a new Moroccan restaurant.
Graham eyed the sign. “This is ‘just the place’?”
“I’ve been wanting to try it. It just opened so it’s been super busy. I thought maybe at this time of day it wouldn’t be too bad.” The parking lot was still surprisingly full, but at least the sidewalk was void of waiting patrons.
“What kind of food is it?”
“Moroccan. Couscous, lamb, vegetables, that kind of thing.” Graham wasn’t quite as adventurous an eater as she was. Claire loved all types of food and would try anything once. “They’ll have meat kabobs or something you’ll like.”
“Promise?”
“No.”
He reached into the back seat for his crutches and got out of the car with a grunt.
It was a beautiful day, and Claire asked for a table on the patio. Only one other couple was seated outside, and it was nice and quiet. Once they were settled, had ordered drinks, and Graham had found something acceptable on the menu, they fell into relaxed conversation.
“Heard from Reagan?” Graham asked.
“Yeah, she made it down there okay. Bitch said she’s been on the beach every day.”
Graham chuckled, though it came out more like a rasp. “You’re more of a beach girl than a mountain girl, huh?”
Claire shrugged. “I love the beauty of the mountains. And I prefer cooler weather. But that summer I spent abroad in Barcelona hitting the beaches every weekend certainly wasn’t torture. Tan skin looks good on me.”
“I bet it does.”
She loved traveling, and would do it more if she didn’t require heavy doses of anxiety meds to get on a plane. “Did you travel much growing up?”
Graham shook his head just as a man burst onto the patio, gesturing violently with one hand while yelling into the phone held up to his ear with the other.
Graham leveled the guy with a look as he passed, but the man ignored him and paused at the railing just a few feet beside them.
“Even before my mom was diagnosed with MS we didn’t really travel long distances,” Graham said. Claire strained to hear his hoarse voice over the stranger’s loud conversation. Graham glared at the guy’s back, but kept going. “But my dad took me camping just outside town every chance he got.”
“That’s where it all started then, huh?” Claire asked with a smile. She’d never met anyone who loved being outside more than Graham. She could also count on one hand the number of times he’d mentioned anything about his life before she met him, and she wanted to hear more.
“Yeah. We—”
“What?”the guy yelled into his phone. “Come on!”
Claire held up a finger at Graham and stood, marching over to the asshole. She tapped him on the shoulder. He stopped midsentence and lifted his eyebrows.
“Yeah, hi. You seem pretty oblivious to anything beyond what you have going on there—” Claire motioned to his phone “—but there are people out here trying to have a conversation and all we can hear is you. Could you take it somewhere else or keep it down?”
