41. Chapter Forty-One
And the Twitter post with a photo of Graham and Christina walking Loki on the trail at Griffith Park says, “That’s one hella lucky dog and man to have Christina Malloy to themselves.”
* * *
Until he tells me it’s over, I’m going to hold on as tightly as I can.
Making dinner in his kitchen, music playing, the dog moving in and out between us, and Milo yelling at a game from the other room, I feel comfortable—at home.
As I stir the Alfredo sauce, Graham wraps his arms around me and brushes his lips against my neck.
I close my eyes and absorb the feel. “You know I don’t cook. So entrusting me to stir this while you do that is risky,” I say on an airy breath.
“I trust you,” he says, lifting my shirt just enough to touch the skin on my abdomen.
“Graham...” I lean against him.
“I love you,” he whispers in my ear.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
I grin as I turn my head to look at him. “Yes, but this won’t keep.”
He hums his understanding. “Just know I love you, and that’s never something that will go away.”
I swallow hard, and Graham moves from me to begin to set the table.
I have to bat my eyes to ward off the tears. His goodbye is going to break me if I let it.
“Shit, that game kicks my ass every time,” Milo says as he walks into the kitchen. “That smells good.”
“Well, someone is going to have to tell me when to stop stirring,” I say.
Milo looks over my shoulder. “Not quite yet,” he says.
“Thank you.”
Milo kisses me on the cheek, and I catch the look on Graham’s face. The sentiment was innocent, and I know he knows that, but it disoriented him.
Milo heads for the backdoor, and Loki follows him.
While stirring, I watch Graham open the wine and set it on the table.
“Are you sure I should still be stirring this?” I ask just to fill the silence.
He walks back over to stand next to me. “I’ll get the bowl of pasta and we’ll be ready.”
Before he moves from me, I reach for his arm with my free hand.
He turns, his eyes searching for something.
“I love you,” I say. “Are we okay?”
Graham leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
Milo convinced Loki to go to his room with him when we all decide to turn in for the night. No doubt he knows something is wrong and that Graham and I need time together.
When I walk out of the bathroom, Graham is sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone.
I pause in the doorway a moment and take in the sight of him.
One of his long, toned legs peeks out from the sheet he has pulled up to his waist. His face is illuminated by his phone, and the lines of his jaw are sharp.
He hasn’t said anything about his meeting with my father, except to ask if we were going to talk about it.
Graham lifts his eyes from his phone, and they settle on me.
“You are beautiful,” he says, and his voice washes over me.
“I’m naked.”
His mouth curls up into a wide smile, and he lays his phone on the nightstand. “Even better,” he says as he holds out his hand to me.
I move to him, easing myself down on the bed next to him. His arms come around me and tuck me under him as his mouth moves over my jaw.
“I’ll never tire of having you in my arms,” he says, and I bite down on my bottom lip.
“Then never let me go,” I whisper before pulling him to me and taking his mouth. I don’t want to give him time to think about it, react, or say anything.
* * *
I’ve managed to direct conversations to not include my parents for the past two weeks. As far as I know, Graham hasn’t met with my father again, and he hasn’t mentioned the movie deal. Perhaps it fell through.
We’ve spent time with his parents, having dinner at their house, or the time we had them over to Graham’s for a barbecue in the backyard.
Admittedly, there’s some jealousy that I’m dealing with. I don’t begrudge him having amazing parents. They accept me, and love me—but my parents, we will never have that kind of relationship with them.
I mean, even though he’s never mentioned it, I wouldn’t put it past my father to have some nondisclosure signed so that Graham can’t even talk to me if he talks to my father.
In our downtime, I’ve had Graham and Milo help me decorate my house so it’s warmer. It’s a shocking reminder that I don’t have friends who I share memories with—therefore there are no photos. And in searching on my phone, there isn’t a single family photo that I didn’t pull off some entertainment site or that doesn’t have my family posing in front of some background promoting one of my father’s movies, or an entertainment venue.
Luckily, in the past two months, I’ve taken a ton of selfies of Graham and myself, and of course, Loki.
Sure, at times those selfies were taken to post for the good of our public relationship, but there are plenty that we took because we love each other.
As I watch Graham and Milo move the sofa in place, after they put down a rug that Milo thought would be perfect for the space, I lift my phone and capture the moment. Maybe I can add this to the photos that I’ve had printed for frames. I can remember this moment forever.
“I do think this place finally looks warm and inviting,” Milo says as Loki curls up on the carpet they just set in place.
“Dude, don’t diss my lady’s home,” Graham says.
“I thought I was complimenting.” Milo looks in my direction. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I think you’re right,” I say.
Graham moves in next to me and wraps his arm around my waist.
“Loki just makes himself at home,” he says.
“He is home,” I say, hoping that he understands I want him and his dog around.
Milo looks down at this watch. “Are you sticking around?” he asks Graham.
“Yeah.”
“I have a date. I have to go,” he says, heading for the door.
“Did you forget?” Graham laughs.
“Dude, she just texted me.” Milo scrolls through his phone and turns it toward Graham. “Hottie, huh?”
Graham growls. “Maybe you could use a real relationship. She looks like the cocktail waitress who’s the wannabe actress.”
“Shit, if I wanted something else, I’d have to move towns.” Milo looks toward me. “You’ll get him home and to work tomorrow?”
I shift my glance up at the man next to me, the one that makes my heart flutter every single time he touches me. “I’ll take care of him and his dog.”
Milo nods and heads out the door.
Loki lifts his head, as if he’s only noticed that one of them left. He looks at us, perhaps making sure we’re not leaving too.
“What do you say we go sit out on the patio and have some wine?” Graham says.
“We have to be on set early in the morning. Maybe we should go to bed.”
“Not yet. I just want some time with you.”
We wrap filming this week. I know we’ve taken this publicity thing too far and considered it real. But after this week, we won’t see each other like we do now—unless this is real.
Why am I questioning it?
Graham takes my hand and laces our fingers together. He leads me through the kitchen and out to the patio.
“Sit. I’ll come back with some wine.”
I nod and take one of the seats.
I’m shaking now as I listen to him move about the kitchen.
When he returns, he hands me a glass.
“This is champagne,” I say, looking up at him, the glow from the kitchen at his back.
“It is,” he says. “I’m celebrating.”
My chest aches. This is it. This is where he tells me he got the movie. This is where he tells me this thing between us is over. He got what he was waiting for.
Loki walks out onto the patio, brushing past Graham. Pacing a small circle, Loki looks up at me, and then rests his head on my lap.
“He’s totally trying to take my spotlight,” Graham says, chuckling.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
He moves toward me and kneels in front of me, just as his dog had.
“Because I wanted to make this moment special.”
“Special?” My voice squeaks as I say it.
Graham takes my glass and holds it up to the light cascading from the house. The bubbles float to the top, but it’s then I notice something in the bottom of the glass.
“What is that?” I ask.
He offers me a sip of the champagne, and I sip wearily. Then he takes a long sip and laughs.
“I thought this would be more romantic,” he says before reaching his fingers into my glass. He pulls the item out of what’s left of the champagne and clasps it in his hand. “Now it’s just sticky.”
“Graham, what are you doing?” I ask, and even Loki lifts his head to study him.
“I hated the idea of us being part of this publicity stunt, but seriously, I couldn’t imagine that I’d fall in love with you. I thought the dislike was pretty strong.”
I pucker my lips. “Thanks?”
“I mean, I knew how to not like you. I just didn’t know I already loved you.”
“Graham...”
He sets the glass on the ground next to him and eyes it before looking back up at me.
Graham opens his hand, and my shaking hands move to my mouth.
“Christina, this isn’t some stunt anymore. I know what I feel.” He holds up the diamond ring that he’d fished out of the glass. “I know they said we didn’t have to get married, that we just needed pictures of us in public,” he says, laughing. “But I do want you in my life forever. I want you to be my wife. Will you be my wife? Will you marry me?”
My jaw trembles, and my eyes fill with tears. I can’t believe this is what he’s doing. I’ve been waiting for him to tell me it’s over—to take the role—to walk away.
My breath is stuck in my lungs, and all I can do is nod, because the words won’t come out.
Graham slips the sticky ring on my finger and then rises to place his hands on my cheeks.
“Christina Malloy, I love you. I will never stop loving you.”
He presses a kiss to my lips.
“I love you too,” I manage. “I will always love you.”
Loki lets out a howl of approval, and we both pull him in to us.
This is my family. This man and this dog. He chose me.