A Deep and Dark December(62)

They didn’t move.

She looked around the room as if noticing it for the first time, taking in the small couch and chairs, the generic pictures of nature. “What is this room?”

“Grieving room for families.”

“Oh, my god. We had sex where people grieve for their dead relatives?” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them, shuddering. “That’s…not right.”

His eye caught on a portrait of Jesus and he shook his head. “It’s really not.”

“What are we doing here?”

Her tone sent his heart stuttering. She was looking at him, waiting for an answer as though he might actually have one. As though he could put two coherent thoughts together when she looked at him like that. The only thing he knew for sure was that she was too far away and too near. He could smell her, that faint tropical scent so uniquely her. He could feel her, her essence, her emotions, her uncertainty. He could almost taste her, remembering how perfectly their bodies fit together. What were they doing here?

Already they were headed for disaster. If he had a brain in his head he’d end this, do what his father wanted, spare Erin what would surely be hell for her. All she’d wanted was to fit in with this stupid town and now Keith’s death, combined with her involvement with Graham would probably ensure that never happened. The people of San Rey had small minds, big mouths, and long memories. There would always be whispers about how Keith had killed himself because she cheated on him with Graham.

If it was even possible to stop it. By now he’d bet half the town already knew about them and about Keith. The damage was done. All he could do now was try to cushion some of it for her, be there for her. He didn’t kid himself into thinking his motives were entirely selfless. They weren’t. He’d always been a self-serving bastard. Why should that change? Especially with her feet away, still waiting, still looking at him, expecting things from him.

“We’re…figuring things out,” he answered lamely.

“When do you think we’ll have them figured out?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded at that. “Okay.”

“Do you think it can be figured out? I mean, is it possible?” he asked.

“Yeah, I kinda do. Don’t you?”

Suddenly everything was set right. He smiled. “Yeah.”

She smiled in return, tilting her head a little to the side. She was so damn pretty he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb. So soft. She eased into the caress, her lashes lowering. He leaned in to kiss her. How could he have thought of ending things, ending this? He framed her face in his hands and deepened the kiss. She moved into him, gripping his wrists. He broke the kiss before things got out of hand. Again.

“You’re very good at that,” she said.

“At what?”

“Making me forget.”

“At least I’m good for something. Do you want to go back to your aunt?”

She smoothed a hand over the wet spot on his shirt where she’d cried. “No, I want to go down with you to check on your dad.”

“We can go down. See what his doctor says. But we probably won’t be able to see him.” No way in hell.

He didn’t know what it would do to his pop to see him with Erin and he knew exactly what it would do to their fragile relationship if she found out his father had disowned him because of her. Family was everything to Erin and he knew she would rather break things off with him than get between Graham and his father.

“Oh, okay.”

They headed down to emergency and found out that his dad was going to be admitted overnight for observation. Erin decided to go back upstairs to check on her aunt, leaving Graham with a kiss and an invitation to stop by her house later. Graham watched her until the elevator doors closed and she disappeared from his view. He turned to go see his father before they took him up to his room, wondering how he was going to sort things out with his old man.

Graham pulled back the curtain around his father’s hospital bed and cautiously stepped inside. Ham pinned him with the dark-eyed stare he’d come to dread as a child.

“I’ve decided to give you another chance,” Ham said, motioning for Graham to sit down. “But you’d better listen to me. You’re going to shave your beard and get your act together. You’re going to stop seeing that December girl. And you’re going to start living up to your potential as a Doran and sheriff of this town.” He shifted in the bed, sitting up straighter. “I’ve held off the mayor and his cronies from recalling you as sheriff, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

At first his father’s words had given him hope, but then he quickly dashed them on the rocks of stubbornness. Graham reclined in his seat, settling in for what he knew was going to be a long lecture. “Have you?”

“I can arrange for you to make a speech. About how concerned you are, your plans for the town, that sort of thing. We can squash this.”

“Can we?”

Whatever drugs they were giving Ham had a rejuvenating effect. If it wasn’t for the weight loss and paleness Graham could have sworn his father had never been ill.

“But the town’s going to want to see you’re serious. Some outward indication,” Ham said.