There it was again, that half grin, and the desire to close the distance between them and kiss it off his face was so strong she almost couldn’t stand it.
“Yeah,” she said, unable to speak anything but the truth. “You do.”
12
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I don’t know
Claire,
Well.
I’m desperate.
You went to work and I’m bored out of my fucking mind and Noah won’t be here for another hour, so I’m trying my hand at your journaling suggestion. It still feels weird to write to no one so I’m writing to you, instead. Which only feels slightly less weird, but you said you never check this email so I figure you’ll never see it, anyway. It’ll probably just be a bunch of bullshit rambling but I’m not a fast typer so maybe by the time I’m done Noah will be here. Ooh, think maybe he’ll take me on a drive?
Now I get why Gertrude gets so excited about the car.
By the way, she seems restless today. I think she misses you. She wasn’t even like this after that family gave her up. Do you remember that? I rescued her from a burning house and the family had to move into an apartment with a no-pet rule. First, I don’t know how they could have ever given her up because she’s basically perfect. Second, Gertie didn’t even seem to miss them, so strike two in pet ownership.
My point is, if she’s looking for you, she likes you. Have you been petting her while I’ve been asleep?
Speaking of sleeping... I think you had a bad dream last night. You seemed restless but I didn’t want to wake you up. Or maybe it was a good dream, and maybe I was there...and we were doing stuff...
Anyway. Moving on. I just googled what to write about in a journal and here are the suggestions:
1. Inspirational quotes. That seems cliche, but I heard something once I try to live by:
“A ship is safe in the harbor,
but that’s not what ships are made for.”
I have no idea who said it. (Also, are you impressed with my formatting? I played around with it and went with italics and center alignment, and now I’m several seconds closer to Noah’s arrival and getting out of this fresh hell that is journaling.)
2. Self care. I thought that’s what the fuck I was doing?
3. Describe your current challenges. This one is pretty obvious, isn’t it? I hate being stuck at home. I hate being alone. I hate not having full use of my body. Strangely enough, I never realized how much I depend on my health and physical ability. Remind me never to take it for granted again. Also, remind me not to take you for granted again. You’ve been really good to me through this. I’ll make it up to you when I’m better, promise (dirty stuff, in case that wasn’t clear).
4. Write a time capsule memory. K, here goes: Hey, idiot—always anchor at the top when you’re tying a top rope. If you had, you and Claire would have hooked up by now. Several times, probably, because you’re that good.
5. Track the food you eat. Nope. Next.
6. Write a letter. HEY I’m doing that.
7. Write about things you want to let go of. Yeah, I don’t think I want to do that one, either. In fact, that’s probably enough for today. I’ll pull out arm hairs until Noah gets here.
Also, Gertie just pushed your pillow off the bed again. Maybe she still hates you.
Graham
“If Claire finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me.”
Graham snorted and gestured between him and Noah with his index finger to say, You and me both.
“Yeah, but I’ll leave behind a grieving wife.” Noah’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”
Graham gave him the finger.
Noah shot him a side-eye. “House arrest makes you grumpy.”
Graham didn’t feel bad for badgering Noah into driving him to the mountains. He had to get out of town and smell the mountain air. It was for the sake of his health.
Noah sighed. “Fine. But we’re going to a touristy overlook with benches where you will stay seated and enjoy being outdoors. Safely. Got it?”
Cocking a brow, Graham knocked on his cast with his knuckles.
“Hey, I wouldn’t put it past you to try to go on a hike or something, even with a cast and crutches.”
Noah had a point. If anyone would try that, it would be him.
Graham sneaked his hand through the open window, letting the wind brush past his fingers as Noah took the exit. Man, it felt good to be out.
Noah followed through on his threat and found a scenic turnout on Highway 285, but Graham didn’t care. It was kind of nice to see the Rockies from the exact location where some people experienced the mountains for the first time. While he preferred a more hands-on approach to the beautiful landscape, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to stop and enjoy the view every once in a while.
Graham lumbered out of the car and slowly made his way to a bench. He sat, propping his crutches up beside him, and Noah sat on the other side. Graham pulled out his phone and typed out a note, then handed it to Noah.
Thanks for making me wear my helmet that day.
He’d thought about it several times since—and how much worse it could have been if he hadn’t been wearing it.
Noah shrugged and shoved the phone back in Graham’s hand. “Don’t mention it.”
They sat in companionable silence for a long time, content to just be in nature.
Noah was the last person Graham felt compelled to force conversation with, which in a situation like this was perfect. But in a rare moment of insecurity he wondered if Noah would prefer if Graham was a little less talkative in general, like now. Then he thought about Claire, and how frustrated she seemed sometimes when he couldn’t just pop back at her when she said something snarky.
She missed his sass, even if she’d never admit it. Graham smiled at the thought, and as he did, realized his face felt great today.
He widened his smile, just to test it, and it felt normal. Reaching up, he lightly rubbed a hand across the right side of his jaw.
It didn’t hurt.
Well, well, well. Claire was in for a treat tonight.
She came home in a shit mood.
She always came home hungry, which Graham had planned ahead for by ordering takeout from one of her favorite Mexican restaurants.
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.