Her mind wasn’t cooperating. “No worrying about Nick or Diana at the lake. Or thinking about what Honor and Owen might be up to. Or if Graham is calling Miss Takahashi. Just bubbles and waterfalls. Relaxing.” Saying the words out loud helped. For about five minutes. Then images of Nick drinking, Honor and Owen—not going there—and Graham dancing with Miss Takahashi popped up to derail her plans.
I’m relaxing.
She closed her eyes and focused on the calming sounds of the rain forest—then the doorbell rang. “Oh no.” She stood, grabbing a towel and running for the door—dripping water as she went. Please don’t ring it again. Please. Towel wrapped tightly around her, she ran down the stairs—nearly slipping—and across the foyer. She peeked through the peephole.
“Graham?” This is bad. Worse because she’d said his name loud enough for him to hear her.
“Felicity?” He spoke through the door. “I’m sorry for ringing the doorbell. I forgot about Jack.”
“It’s okay.” He had a bouquet of flowers. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I told you to go out and do something.”
He brought her flowers. She was in a towel. And she ached for him.
This is so bad.
“I did go out. But once I was in the car, I headed this way.” He paused. “I can’t come in?”
“Oh, sure.” Because having a conversation through a door was weird. “I wasn’t expecting company,” she said, unlocking the door and pulling it—slowly—open.
His head-to-toe inspection did nothing to soothe her nerves. The way his dark hair fell forward onto his forehead—hard not to reach out and smooth it into place. But touching him would be bad.
He smiled, the corners of his warm brown eyes creasing nicely. “I’m interrupting. Bubble bath?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her shoulder.
She wiped the bubbles from her skin. “I was trying to relax. Everyone is out and I’m not good at occupying myself, either.”
“I can recommend a couple of documentaries.”
She laughed, tugging her towel up and shaking her head. “Maybe for insomnia?” She cleared her throat, her gaze getting tangled up in his. Dripping water and towel aside, she was so happy he was here.
“Trouble sleeping?” He went from adorable Graham to Dr. Murphy in a matter of seconds. Which made him even more adorable.
She shook her head.
Eyebrow cocked, he studied her expression. “I’ll send you a list.” He smiled.
“Normally, I bake, but Charity asked me not to tempt her anymore.” She stepped back. “Coming in?”
He hesitated, his gaz
e returning to her bare shoulders. “No. I don’t think so.” He blew out a slow breath and held out the bouquet of daisies, sunflowers, and roses. “I may have made a stop along the way.”
“Graham…” She took the flowers. “You can come in. I mean, you came all this way.” And it made her happy. He made her happy.
“I missed you.” His gaze met hers.
Ridiculously happy. So happy that she really wanted to grab his arm and tug him inside. Or at the very least admit the truth, even if her voice wobbled. “I miss you.”
But admitting that didn’t change how her son felt.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nick.” She bit her lower lip, scrambling for a way to say what she needed to say.
“Everything okay?” He came inside and carefully shut the door. “What happened?”
Words clogged her throat. Some she wanted to say, some she didn’t.
“Felicity?” he asked. “Hey, you can talk to me.”