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“They sound like a bunch of motherfuckers,” she said, pulling to a stop at a red light.
That got a laugh out of him, and he finally looked over at her, his eyes happy. He quickly glanced through the windshield at the red light then back at her, and lurched across the car. His lips touched hers in a quick, hard kiss.
Before she knew it, he was back on his side of the car, resettling a disgruntled Gertrude in his lap.
That didn’t stop her heart from fluttering, or her lips from wishing for just a few more seconds of contact. “What was that for?”
He shrugged and smiled softly. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
She’d always been partial to Graham’s wide, unabashed smiles. But this one might have just sneaked into the first slot in her favorites. It was sweet and just for her, like a secret whispered in her ear.
She threaded her fingers with his. “Me, too.”
He continued to direct her, and twenty minutes later they pulled into a neighborhood. The houses were small and in various conditions. Some appeared well maintained while others had overgrown lawns and piles of junk lining the driveway. Graham told her to pull up in front of one she’d put in the former category. An older model pickup sat in the driveway and a single light bulb cast yellow light over the red front door.
It was hard to see in the dark, but the stucco was painted a lighter color and a tree several feet taller than the single-story house jutted from the middle of the grass lawn.
Claire parked along the curb right in front. “I bet you climbed the heck out of that when you were a kid.”
Her comment seemed to please him. Had he been worried what she’d say about his childhood home? “I did.” He opened the door and put Gertrude on the grass, and she immediately walked off, nose to the ground.
While he pulled his crutches from the back seat and got himself out of the car, Claire grabbed their bags. She met him at the passenger side and found a scowl in his face.
“I feel like a dick making you carry the bags.”
She rolled her eyes and started across the grass, keeping her voice low. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He caught up and reached the front door before her. “I told them we’d be late and not to wait up for us. My dad said he left a key under the mat.”
Claire found the key and handed it to him, then knelt to pick up Gertrude.
Graham’s gaze dropped to his dog in her arms, and that secret smile flashed across his face again.
Her heart squeezed and she frowned. What was he doing to her tonight?
Had coming here been a mistake? Too late now.
Graham opened the door and she followed him in, closing and locking it behind her. They were in what looked like a living room with a love seat and two faded recliners angled toward a small flat-screen television. A small lamp in the corner had been left on, illuminating a hallway in the back corner.
“Kitchen’s through there,” Graham said, pointing with a crutch. “Need water or a snack or anything?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. That way, then.”
They crept down the dark, carpeted hallway and Graham gestured to the bathroom, which appeared to be the only one in the house.
He entered a room at the end and flipped on the light with his elbow. It was about the size of the bedrooms at the condo, maybe a little smaller. A bed was pushed against the corner and a desk with a sewing machine sat against the opposite wall.
“My mom made this her sewing room when I left,” he said quietly. “My dad must have cleaned up in here, though. Usually the bed is covered in quilting fabrics and I end up sleeping on the couch.”
Claire eyed the bed. “I’m happy to sleep on the couch if I need to.”
Graham stalled. “What?”
“That bed looks kind of small for both of us, Graham. You’re not exactly tiny, and that cast is like a whole other person.”
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You’ve been in my bed every night for the last three weeks. I’m not losing you now. We’ll make it work.”
