Chapter 11
Paige
I am nearly forty-five minutes late when I arrive for Friday night dinner. We have a reservation for six to celebrate a promotion Chris and Graham received at a steakhouse they both liked. It is also supposed to be the first time Seth, and I have had a chance to see each other with conflicting schedules, but a few hours ago, I got a text he has a work emergency.
After all the David drama, I call Seth, thanking him again for the flowers. The conversation isn’t long, and he seems distracted, which doesn’t help. I just kept trying, though, and we have communicated in some way or another since, but I am having difficulty reading him. So even though I plan on looking hot as hell tonight in hopes of moving past whatever funky energy is between Seth and me, he cancels.
I am at work with all my clothes for dinner when I get a message from Seth to say he isn’t coming. I am thankful the department is slower than usual today. I figure I am getting off early and can change into something else and ride over with Chris and Bre. The universe, however, decides my six-hour shift needs to run late, and there has been a last-minute emergency.
By the time I clock out, it is already our reservation time, and I am surprised to see no message from anyone. I quickly change in my car, pulling out the new black dress. It hugs my curves in every way a dress should, with a long-sleeved lace overlay. It screams sexy and elegant all at once. I finish the look with my favorite nude pumps to show off my long legs.
I quickly run my fingers through my now nearly straight curls and touch up my makeup. I have dark red lipstick in my purse, so I put it on. Though slightly darker than my usual red, it looks fantastic. This dress with the contrasting dramatic lips and soft eyes is a vibe.
Hurrying up and grabbing my purse, I enter the steak house and quickly scan the room, noticing only Graham sitting at a table for six.
Oh shit . Did my phone die?
I can feel the confusion as I reach into my purse and pull out my phone, which is still very much charged, to see no missed messages or calls. That’s when I feel his eyes lock onto me. Looking up from my phone towards him, I smile. He seems to be memorizing every inch of my body in this rather form-fitting dress, and I crave more of his attention. So much so that I may have strutted toward the table. A fuck me smile is plastered across my face.
“Hey there, handsome,” I say as he stands to hug me.
The feeling of his warm, solid body against mine is slightly intoxicating, and I have to fight myself when I want to linger in his touch.
“That dress makes it hard to stay mad at you.”
A huskiness in his voice leaves me feeling flushed as he squeezes a little tighter. My body betrays me, and I have no doubt I have already soaked through my black panties. If this stud wasn’t engaged, I would make a move.
“I know. I am so sorry, but I had no idea you were here alone,” I apologize before breaking our contact.
He reluctantly lets me pull away from him and reaches to pull out the seat directly across from him. He offers it to me, and I smile before looking over to the empty half of the table before sitting down.
“You want to fill me in here?”
“Bre and Chris have decided to have a private celebration,” Graham says with air quotes.
I make a disgusted sound, and he laughs. That laugh just adds to my intoxication, so I try to redirect the conversation, clearing my throat.
“Where’s Katherine?”
An awkward silence falls between us briefly as he sits.
“Do you want to know, or are you looking for ammunition for your next interaction?”
It is a fair question. I am sexually attracted to him, and he is in a long-term relationship with that red-headed bitch, so I answer honestly.
“Both.”
He leans back in his chair and sips the whiskey on the table. A half smile dances across his lips as his eyes linger on mine before he answers.
“Still with her mom in Arizona.” He clears his throat. “Can I ask a question now?”
I smile. “Sure.”
“What did you think of Seth? Chris told me you went out on a double date after we ran into each other at the gym.”
Part of me isn’t surprised he is asking, but there seems to be something more in the question, and I am not sure how to answer him.
“Yeah, Bre’s idea. We had a good time but haven’t seen each other since.”
Graham seems to just linger on me for a moment before smiling softly.
“Seth would do anything for Chris. They were inseparable while Chris was in college.”
“Aren’t you and Seth friends?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Not really.”
I linger on him a moment, and right as I go to ask him to elaborate, a woman appears with bread and water for the table as the staff clears away the two-thirds of the table we aren’t using. We just let silence float between us, eyes locked until we are alone again at a table now for two, and there is only one question I want to ask him.
“Why didn’t you text me everyone else canceled?”
He looks almost relieved.
“I didn’t have your number.”
I smile and lean forward in my seat, reaching out and gesturing for his phone.
“I think we need to change that.”
His smile is broad when he pulls his phone out of his suit jacket pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to me. I notice his lock screen has a picture of him, Chris, and an older gentleman, all decked out in red and yellow football gear, in front of a football stadium.
I smile as I save my name and number, and Graham hasn’t taken his eyes off me. I can tell a million things are running through his mind.
“Work run late?” Is the question he finally settles on.
I watch him momentarily, then return to his phone and text myself to save his number.
“Yes, towards the end of my shift, I had a pretty sick patient, and the universe decided I had to work a little bit harder today,” I say with a soft, sad smile.
“Well, I have seen your work firsthand and know they were in competent hands.”
I feel my cheeks flush, and I lean back fully into my chair, placing down his cell phone. I also have a million thoughts running through my mind.
“I just know how not to panic.”
I shrug. His ocean-blue eyes stare through me.
The waiter appears next to us at the table.
“Are you ready to order?”
I smile softly and am slightly startled. I order a glass of red wine and another glass of the whiskey Graham has sipped.
“You don’t have to do that.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring him completely. I know he’ll forgive me for it.
“And your point?”
I smile at him and then hide my face behind the menu. When the waiter returns with our drinks, I’m starving and order the highlight Tomahawk dinner to share, fully intending to pay. Graham does not object to anything, letting me take complete control. Once the waiter leaves our table, I pick up my wine and take a small sip. Graham still seems to be hypnotized by my every movement.
“Something wrong?” I finally ask after several moments of awkward silence.
His smile deepens to dimples, and his blue eyes peer into what feels like my soul.
“Absolutely nothing,” he says with a flirty tone. “I really like that fucking dress .”
He lingers on the word fucking, as if it was more of a need, and I feel a slight tightening in my core.
“What, this old thing?”
I laugh, fanning myself dramatically, trying not to focus on his lips.
“You probably shouldn’t wear that one to work anytime soon.”
Graham chuckles softly.
We lock eyes, and I can feel the redness in my cheeks deepen. I finally let myself drink him in fully. The navy color of his tailored suit is causing those ocean blue eyes to storm, and his button-down shirt is as bright as his perfectly dimpled smile. I take another large sip of my wine, hoping to take the edge off.
“Yeah, there are a few people there that probably shouldn’t see me in this,” I say with a soft laugh as I play with my glass.
“Kat’s admitting doctor asked me if you were seeing someone. I met him years ago in medical school. The guy is a total tool,” he says, giving me the cutest damn dimpled smile before sipping his whiskey.
“Nickelson?” I ask with a shocked laugh as I cover my mouth with my hand.
His laugh in response leaves me longing for him in a different way I don’t quite know how to describe. I don’t think I have ever felt it, and feel like I can’t control myself.
“It’s almost a damn shame you are engaged,” I say after we finally stop laughing.
His eyes lock on me as his jaw tenses slightly before the waiter approaches with our appetizers. Graham’s eyes never leave me as I exchange polite conversation with the waiter before reaching for my wine. Once the waiter leaves, I don’t even give him a chance to speak.
“What’s the deal with you and Katherine? I understand if it isn’t my business, but...” I pause momentarily to collect the right words before motioning between us. “I know I am not crazy, and you can feel that too, right?”
He finishes his whiskey before leaning back in his seat and unbuttoning his jacket and the shirt’s top button. I can’t help but watch every movement of his nimble, precise fingers as his chest hair peaks through. I usually don’t find myself interested in doctors, let alone an engaged one, but I am toying with the idea of changing my mind. I may be many things, but I have never been the other woman. But something deep down tells me I would be Graham’s only woman.
He lets out a long, tired breath.
“A lot can happen between two people in six years.” His eyes meet mine. “This thing I feel with you has nothing to do with that. I just want to get to know you, Paige, since I think there is a chance we might keep running into each other since Chris seems pretty serious about your sister.”
He leans forward slightly, seeming to struggle with whatever is going through his head. He brushes his hand across mine, resting on the table. I look down at where our skin has touched, and my chest tightens.
“With that being said, Paige, you are damn beautiful.”
His tone matched those ocean eyes roaming with hunger over every inch of my face before lingering on my deep red lips.
I playfully trace my fingers on his hand before sitting back in my chair, needing to fan myself slightly before trying to focus on something else.
“Please, you are way prettier than I am,” I tease, attempting to play off the longing energy his attention gave me before reaching for my fork.
His smile returns as he reaches for some of the food between us.
“Why did you become a doctor?”
I let curiosity show in my eyes and want to take full advantage of the one-on-one time. He momentarily lets my question linger in the air while I take a few bites of food and finish my wine before he chuckles softly.
“Sorry, it’s been a long time since someone asked me that question. Um, I guess it has to do with my grandmother. Before my grandmother’s passing, she had been a radiologist and often would share stories of her crazy experiences. My earliest memories include sitting in her office and examining hours of imaging from some of her favorite cases. It is probably where my curiosity started. Fascinated by the ins and outs of the human body.”
A hint of conflicting emotion dances across his features, and I can’t help but place my hand on his, resting on the table. His soft, strong hands seem like a calming anchor, and it’s like everything else disappears.
“What happened with you after she died?”
“I was in foster care a few years after my sperm donor lost custody of me. I was about fourteen before I was adopted.”
“Are you close to your adopted family?”
“Extremely,” Graham says with a smile that warms my heart.
“My birth mother had passed away from complications during labor, and it was too much for my father to handle, so he signed over all his rights to my grandparents. Honestly, it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me when I was younger. My grandfather had been really good with money, and my grandmother made quite a bit of it. They even set up a sizable trust for whoever took care of me if something happened. My grandmother wanted to ensure I never would go without.”
“Do you miss them?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
The fondness with which he speaks of them tells me everything I probably need to know about this man. A bleeding heart just like me.
“All the time, but they would be happy to see how far I have come.”
I grin in response as the waiter brings another round of drinks and our salads. And there, at a table originally for six, we continue to eat, flirt, and linger, barely touching hands.
I am so royally fucked.