“I’m kidding, Serena. I can pack away the food, don’t worry. And I was a little light on groceries, anyway. Remy and Griff about ate me out of house and home this week.”
Curious why he’s been hanging around with them but not wanting to ask in case it falls under ‘club business,’ I nod. “Maybe we should ask Remy over for dinner. I still need to thank him for digging out my car.”
“I took care of it.” He slips in behind me, gently touching my side, then my hip. “Besides, I want you all to myself.”
The note of possession in his voice turns my knees to jelly. “Okay.”
He curls his arm around my waist, while I reach to turn on the oven.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Preheating the oven. For the potatoes. Is that okay?”
“Sounds good.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. While he doesn’t ask any more questions, he does release me so I can wash the potatoes, season them and set them in the oven. But he doesn’t go far, watching my every move, allowing me to bump into him from time to time.
“How long will those take?” He nods to the oven while I finish seasoning the steaks with garlic and rosemary.
“Maybe an hour. You don’t happen to have a cast iron pan, do you?” I bend over, searching one of the lower cabinets.
“Actually, yes.” He opens a different cabinet. “Trinity sent me home with one. She said it was ‘seasoned’ already.” He sets it on the stove with a clank. “Careful, it’s a heavy sucker.”
“Grayson.” I can’t hide the scolding in my voice. “You shouldn’t be lifting that with your shoulder.”
He side-eyes me. “The day I can’t lift a pan is the day I’m throwing in the towel.”
Such a perfectly Grayson answer. “Have you been doing the exercises?” I bite my lip. “I hate that I haven’t seen you all week. And I’m guessing you never went to see Jason?”
He rolls the shoulder. No signs of pain twist his handsome face. “Yeah, I’ve been doing them like you asked. Honestly, it’s felt better. I haven’t thought about it a lot.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Good. At least I’m not a totally terrible therapist.”
“Serena.” He clutches my upper arms, forcing me to meet his intense face. “You’re great at what you do.”
“Pfft. You barely had any appointments with me.”
“Yeah, and I’m already improving.” He strokes his knuckles over my cheek. “The second you touched me, I felt better.”
I tilt my head and stare at him. Really?
“Okay. Maybe not the first touch. You have shockingly strong fingers for a woman your size.”
I burst into laughter.
“But your manner, and the way you treated me—you have a gift.”
“I gave you the same treatment I give all my patients.”
“No, I mean, I didn’t feel like a faceless number on your to-do list. You saw in my file that I’d been in prison but you didn’t judge me for it.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
“You acted like I mattered and we were going to figure things out together like a team.”
“You do matter.”
“Even though you didn’t know me.”
“Everyone matters.”
“That’s what makes you special and so good at your job.”
“Thank you.”
His words touch the lonely girl inside who spent years feeling like her existence mattered to no one. I never want anyone else to feel that way.
Overwhelmed, I flip the water on and scrub my hands. Grayson moves in behind me again. Caging me in with his hands braced against the sink. His lips graze a slice of skin between my neck and shoulder left exposed by my shirt.
“Serena.” His voice is a low, raspy rumble.
My pulse races.
He curls one arm around my waist and uses his other hand to push my hair to the side, pressing his lips against my neck. His beard tickles my skin, enhancing the pleasurable sensation.
I sigh and lean into him. He doesn’t budge. His strong arms and body easily support me.
“How much time do we have?” he asks, moving the collar of my shirt to kiss my shoulder.
“All…all weekend.” My brain can’t seem to form coherent thoughts.
He gently turns me in his arms, without letting go. I’m swallowed whole by the adoring way he stares down at me.
He leans down and brushes his lips over mine. His arms band tight around my waist, tethering me to his hard body. I loop my arms around his neck and consider climbing him. Anything to get closer. As if he has the same thought, he slides his hands over my ass and lifts, urging me to wrap my legs around him.
Breathless, I pull away. “Do you mind if I take a shower first?”
“First?” He raises an eyebrow.
My cheeks heat. Why am I always rushing things?
“I’m teasing, buttercup. Anything you want.” He kisses the tip of my nose and carries me toward the bathroom.