A Deep and Dark December(29)

She could just make out the shape of his features in the darkened car, but couldn’t see his eyes. Focusing on his mouth, she watched as they formed the words she half longed for, half dreaded hearing.

“Feels like forever.”

“Your lips are softer than I imagined they’d be,” she quietly confessed.

Holding her hand, he kissed the back of it. This felt too intimate, too much like they were starting something that couldn’t be stopped. She wasn’t free to start up something with Graham or anyone else.

“Can you take me home now?” she asked.

He squeezed her hand, taking her words the wrong way.

“I’m tired,” she added, making her meaning clear. “It’s been a difficult day.”

He took her chin in his hand and turned her toward him. He searched her face for a minute that felt like an hour. She didn’t know what he saw or if he could even see anything at all. Nodding slowly, he released her. He started the engine and shifted into gear, beginning their journey down the hill.

She broke the silence now and then to direct him to her house. He kept his eyes on the road and didn’t comment. Finally he pulled up to the curb of her small Craftsman bungalow and killed the engine.

“Thanks for the ride.” She reached for the door handle.

“I don’t like him.”

“Who?”

“The Jolly Green Grocer.”

“You don’t have to like him.”

“I don’t think you like him either.” He shifted in his seat, angling toward her. “Do you?”

“I like him.” She put as much enthusiasm in her words as she could muster with the feel of Graham’s body still imprinted on hers and his smell wrapped around her.

“Very convincing. Did you know you have a tell?”

“Like in poker?

“Why are you with him if you don’t like him?”

“Thanks again for the ride.”

She made to leave, but he reached across her and clamped his hand over hers. “Answer my question and you can go.”

Pulling her hand out from under his, she pressed back against the seat as far as she could, evading his touch. “Why do you care?”

“Just tell me. What is it, the apron? The commanding way he handles melons?”

“Stop mocking him,” she defended.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to that seductive growl she had trouble resisting. “Come on, tell me.”

His eyes glinted dark and mesmerizing and once again she found herself falling down his rabbit hole of persuasion. She wanted to tell him about her doubts, her inability to feel anything more than friendship toward Keith. She wanted to move closer to Graham and touch him the way she couldn’t touch Keith. Graham seemed to understand her in a way Keith didn’t. The way Keith couldn’t. Graham was the only other person besides her family who knew about her ability. And she was glad she’d told him about it. He accepted it, accepted her.

“I do like him.” She couldn’t seem to stop defending Keith to Graham. The fault of their relationship lay with her, not Keith. She wanted Graham to understand that. “He’s good to me. We have a nice time together.”

“But?” he prodded.

“But…I just wish I was more attracted to him. You know, physically. He’s handsome. Everyone thinks so.”

He frowned. “I’m still not getting why you’re with him.”

“He coaches Little League. His store donates the food for the spring carnival every year because he arranges it. He’s on the committee to keep San Rey clean. He—”

“Belongs,” Graham finished. “I get it. He’s got what you want.”

“And what is it you think I want?”

“Acceptance by osmosis.”

“It’s not like that.” But it was exactly like that. Being with Keith gave her a credibility she lacked on her own. His acceptance of her should’ve translated to acceptance of town. Should’ve, but didn’t.

He sat back in his seat, suddenly looking tired. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

His abrupt dismissal stung. She should’ve been glad to be away from him and his gaze that saw too much, away from his questions that made her look too closely at her life and the lies she’d told herself trying to reinvent it.

“Thanks again for the ride,” she said, opening the door. “Good-night.”

She climbed out of the car and closed the door behind her without looking back. She could feel his gaze on her all the way up her front steps. He didn’t pull away from the curb until she’d gotten safely inside, lights on, door locked behind her.

It wasn’t until later, just before she drifted off to sleep, that she realized what she’d done by kissing Graham. Keith had never kissed her like that. He never would. She’d never feel—in a thousand kisses with Keith—what she felt in that one kiss with Graham Doran.





Erin arrived at the police station promptly at eight only to find Graham hadn’t yet come down from his apartment upstairs. This unfortunate turn of events meant that she’d have to make small talk with Mabel while she waited. Except with Mabel, the talking was never small. It was strained, and stretched more horribly than Mabel’s girdle elastic.