With an extra order of tortilla chips.
But the bad mood? He wasn’t prepared for that. She didn’t even notice the spread as she stalked past on her way to her room.
Thinking quickly, he grabbed two Coronas from the fridge, sliced up a lime, and added them to the table.
Damn, why hadn’t he gotten her flowers? This was a thank-you meal, not an attempt to woo her, but still. He intended to make it known he was in perfect condition to kiss that lovely mouth of hers if she was inclined to let him.
With the way she was slamming drawers in her room, it seemed the odds for any messing around were low. Which was fine, but he’d still offer because getting a little action usually made him feel better and it might help her, too.
Selfless, right?
A few seconds later Claire reentered the kitchen, looking gorgeous and comfortable in sweatpants and a white tank top. Her arms were up, fingers gathering her hair at the top of her head, and she did some fancy maneuver with a band that somehow secured the unruly mass up there.
Part of him wished she’d leave it down, while the other appreciated the bared curve of her shoulders and lines of her slender neck.
She stopped at the table and regarded the food. “You’re a lifesaver. Work was chaotic today. You won’t believe what I had to deal with.”
Graham arched a brow, a move he’d employed more in the last week than his entire life, but without the use of his voice, he’d learned the eyebrows were versatile communication tools. Tonight, for example, the simple muscle flex said, Try me.
“My first patient of the day caught his sheets on fire when he lit up a joint and dropped it. The next was a kid who ate twenty-seven LEGOs. And last but not least, I got a guy who kept taking off his gown. And on top of it all I was worried about you all day, which pissed me off.”
Graham couldn’t help it.
He smiled.
She was exhausted and irritated and he probably shouldn’t have found anything she said the least bit funny. But she was just so lovely when she was riled up. It was his favorite version of Claire.
A small, silent laugh escaped his lips when her face lit up.
“You’re smiling,” she said, her own lips tipping up. “Your jaw is better?”
He nodded.
“Well. There’s one good thing from this day, at least. Well, that and chips and salsa.” She twisted her lips to the side and lowered her lashes a little. “I’m not sure which is better, actually. Thank you, Graham.”
She continued to look at him, more at his mouth than anywhere else, and he took his chance.
His hips leaned against the counter, keeping him upright. He angled his head to the side and held out his hand, palm up, gesturing with his index finger. Come here.
Her brows furrowed and she approached him, stopping two feet away. He made the motion one more time.
Closer.
She took another step.
It was enough for him to keep one hand on the counter for balance, lean forward to slip the other around her neck and pull her flush against his body.
Her breath caught, her lips parted, and she turned those hazel eyes on him.
Thank you, he mouthed.
“For what?”
His hands were occupied, and with no other method of communication, he just looked at her, his gaze canvassing her face, enjoying the color rising in her cheeks. She probably knew, anyway.
She swallowed, putting a gentle hand on his chest and moving it in a soft, tiny circle. Her eyes dropped there as she spoke again. “Are we, um, starting our arrangement? Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?”
He waited until their gazes locked and nodded, lowering his head.
Yes and hell yes.
Hesitation was nonexistent. She met him partway, lifting up and molding her mouth with his. Her body melted into him, and he wished he could wrap his other arm around her waist. But he couldn’t risk falling right now and moving backward in his recovery.
Especially now that he’d gotten to this point. He might not be able to do everything he wanted with her, but if he could kiss her without pain, he was damn sure gonna do it. As much as possible. Because kissing Claire was like crossing the finish line and looking back to find you won the race.
Exhilarating, satisfying perfection.
This kiss wasn’t as forceful as the first. The second one hadn’t gone far enough to gauge, but this one was unhurried, thorough, and indulgent.
Her palms traveled across his chest, sending heat barreling through his veins as they continued up the sides of his neck and slid into his hair. Her nails lightly traced his scalp and suddenly he was back in that chair, shirtless, with her hands working their magic. This was what he’d wanted to do immediately after.