He wanted to smile so badly, but his face hurt.
She leaped off the bed and trotted to the dog bed in the corner.
“Wow. I’d have expected her to fight a little more for you, Graham.”
Women are fickle.
Another soft laugh, and Claire settled in beside him. The warmth of her body beside him immediately brought his anxiety down several notches.
He had no idea how, but someday he’d have to thank her for this.
9
Claire often struggled with insomnia and tonight was no different. Graham seemed restless but she couldn’t blame him. The only option was to sleep on his back, and as a side sleeper herself, she could imagine how hard it would be to get comfortable. She gave him a dose of pain medication around three, which knocked him out for several hours, and Claire followed him under.
When she opened her eyes, dim sunlight streamed through the blinds and Gertrude sat like a creepy canine statue on Claire’s side, staring at her.
Claire shot her a smug look. “I won this round, G,” she whispered.
A hand tapped her back and she spun around to face Graham. The swelling around his jaw looked better today, and a slight upward tilt to his lips accompanied the humor dancing in his eyes. He held out his phone.
Don’t heckle my dog. She’s sweet if you get to know her.
“Right. The death glare she’s giving me is very sweet.”
Don’t be so hard on her. She’s jealous you got to sleep next to me, a feeling shared by all single women in the greater Denver area.
While she was glad he felt well enough to crack a joke, she couldn’t just let it go. “Yeah, that heavy snoring rocked my world.”
His shoulders fell and he looked away.
Claire laughed and sat up, looking over at him. His thick, dark hair was even more disheveled than yesterday but even with that and the dark bruise encompassing the entire right side of his face, he still looked handsome. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure it’s just the swelling.”
She stood and Gertrude was up like a shot, rushing across the blankets to Graham’s side. He rubbed her ears fondly.
“I’m gonna go make coffee. Does a smoothie sound good? You need to take your antibiotics this morning and it’s best to have something in your stomach.”
He gave her a thumbs-up and pushed himself to a sitting position, the long, lean muscles in his arms flexing as he got up. He thumped across the floor on his crutches to the bathroom, slightly more efficiently than yesterday.
She heard him go back to his room while she prepared the coffee maker, then heard Reagan’s voice speaking to him. Reagan soon joined Claire in the kitchen, pulling two suitcases behind her.
“You’re sure you don’t need a ride to the airport?” Claire asked. “Graham would be fine for an hour.”
“Nah, Uber’s almost here.” Reagan pushed her bags to the door and faced Claire, waving a hand in the direction of Graham’s room. “I’m sorry I’m leaving with everything going on. You sure you can handle it?”
Claire smiled. “I’m used to taking care of four or five patients at once, so I think I can handle one, no matter how difficult he might be. You’ve been dying to visit your family. Go, have fun, and don’t worry about us.”
“Keep me updated on how he’s doing, okay?”
“You got it. Send me pictures of the beach. I’ll show them to Graham so he knows what he’s missing.”
“You two are ridiculous.” Reagan’s phone beeped and she peeked out the window. “Ride’s here. See you soon!”
“Have a safe trip.”
When Reagan was gone, Claire grabbed fruit from the freezer and made Graham a smoothie with protein powder and almond milk. She filled a travel mug with coffee, hoping it would stay warm longer, and took both to his room.
She almost dropped everything when she saw him.
Graham sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but black boxer briefs. His shoulders hunched forward and his forearms rested on his thighs, his dark hair hanging in front of his forehead. His body was a beautiful expanse of long, curving muscles truncated by dips and valleys in between, and miles upon miles of golden, sun-kissed skin.
Even with the cast on his right leg and the scratches on his forearms, the picture he presented was so impossibly sexy it was hard to breathe. What she wouldn’t give to go back to the night she’d told him she wanted to begin their arrangement, then told him they had to wait. There was no way in hell she would have pushed him away this time.
He must have sensed her presence because he straightened, cheeks flushing when he looked at her. He gripped the back of his neck in a move that was strangely endearing, and gestured to the floor with his other, where both crutches lay near his feet, but out of reach.
He was stranded.
Claire didn’t get the feeling he was a man who was ever embarrassed about his body when he was with a woman. Because honestly, why would he be? But this moment wasn’t on his terms. He wasn’t seducing her, and he’d probably intended to be dressed before she came back in. This was a sort of weakness, which he wouldn’t take well.
Claire cleared her throat, determined to treat him the same as usual in hopes it would lighten his mood. She walked forward and put the drinks on the dresser. “If this is a ploy to get me in bed with you, I have to admit it’s tempting. But I’ll have to ask for a rain check.”
He cocked a brow and held up his hands, fingers splayed, slowly rotating them while he examined them. She marveled at his ability to shift from awkward to charming in mere seconds as he looked back at her with heat in his eyes.
Jeez, what was he doing to her? Stay focused. “Yes, I see your hands are in perfect working order. But when we go there, I’m gonna want a whole lot more than that.”
He stilled and blinked a few times and she congratulated herself for shocking him.
“I assume you were trying to change?”
He nodded, and she wished he’d pick up his phone and communicate with her that way. She didn’t want to have to keep looking at him, all undressed and stuff. Seriously, wow. She grabbed a shirt and pair of shorts from the top of the pile, then paused at the idea of rifling through drawers for underwear. “Were, um... Did you already change your...?”
She peeked behind her and he gave her a thumbs-up, his expression unreadable.
Thank God. She crossed the room and handed him the clothes, then propped his crutches on the bed. “In that case, I can just give you these. Or I can help if you need me to.”
He pointed to the door.
She shrugged and left, retreating to the kitchen to make her own breakfast. Her phone buzzed.
“Oh, now he wants my help,” she muttered. “That didn’t take long.”
But Graham hadn’t texted her and her hackles fell back into place.
Mia: How’s he doing today? Noah wants the real answer because Graham just says he’s fine.
Claire: He’s not enjoying this. But otherwise, he’s doing as well as can be expected. I slept in his room last night just in case he needed anything.
Mia: That was nice of you.
Claire wished she could see Mia’s face or at the very least, hear her tone. As it was, she pretended it was a simple acknowledgment with no underlying questions.
Claire: Today’s the first full day at home with just him and me. Check back in a few hours to see if we’ve killed each other yet. Last one standing: Graham, me, or Gertrude.
Mia: My money’s on Gertrude. Hang in there and let us know if you need anything.
Claire ate a bowl of instant oatmeal and, after texting to make sure he was decent, went back to Graham’s room to dole out his medications. He messaged her while she refilled his water.