“Ha!” The barked laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “Mine, if that works for you. I’ve got a few things in here that need to be refrigerated.” She gestured toward her half-full cart. “Besides, you haven’t seen my new place yet.”
“All right then.” He turned his cart toward the beverage aisle. “You grab another potato, I’ll get us a six-pack, and we’ll meet at the checkout line.”
He took a few steps, then glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes dancing. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever picked up a woman in a grocery store.”
Chapter Nine
As Grace tossed the salad, Sean poured two bottles of beer into a pair of pilsner glasses he’d found in one of the kitchen cabinets. He’d already set the table, and now they were waiting for the potatoes to finish in the microwave. Neither of them had been thrilled with that shortcut, but with everything else ready, speed had won out over proper cooking. Grace checked the timer, then bent to open the lower broiler and peek at the garlic bread.
He took a slow sip of beer and let his gaze linger on her backside longer than it should have. The woman had no business looking that good while checking on dinner.
He dragged his attention back to safer territory and glanced around the kitchen instead. The space suited her—bright, open, yet practical without feeling cold. He could see why she’d chosen the condo.
“This is a great kitchen. There’s plenty of room for two people to work without tripping over each other.”
What he didn’t say was how natural it had felt moving around the room with her. There’d been no awkward bumping into each other, and no second-guessing who should do what. They’d fallen into an easy rhythm that felt almost familiar, and that realization caught him off guard. Spending time with Grace had become far too comfortable, way too fast.
After sliding the toasted bread onto a cutting board, she straightened and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s one of the reasons I picked this place. All the rooms are a nice size, there’s plenty of closet space, and it’s an end unit, so I have extra windows.”
Sean leaned enough to glance through the kitchen doorway into the living room, where unpacked boxes still lined one wall.
“I see you haven’t done much decorating yet unless cardboard boxes are the ‘in’ thing now.”
Her laugh lifted through the room and tugged a grin from him.
“Not that I know of, but if it is, then I’m good. I just haven’t had much time to unpack yet. I want Pro-Care up and running first, then I can work on this place.”
“Good. And when you’re done here, you can help me decorate my apartment. Everything is in storage while they paint and replace the old cabinetry and carpeting, but after I move in, my décor will be brown cardboard boxes too.”
Her laughter drifted through the kitchen again, quieting some of the noise still rattling around in his head from the day.
“It’s nice to know we have the same decorating style.” She jutted her chin toward the table. “Have a seat—everything’s ready.”
He grabbed the plate with the potatoes from the microwave and carried it to the table, taking a seat. He waited until she joined him before loading his plate. “Nice to know we have the same culinary aptitude too.”
“We’re two peas in a pod.” She handed him the basket of garlic bread and a bowl of cranberry jelly before sitting across from him and fixing her own plate.
The scene struck him as he dropped a slab of butter onto his potato. There was something disarming about the quiet domesticity of it all. A few days ago, they’d barely known each other—the adult versions. Now they were sharing dinner in her kitchen, passing side dishes and trading easy conversation like they’d done this a hundred times before.
And if he was being honest, he liked it more than he should.
After adding a few dashes of pepper to his chicken and potato, he smiled at her. “So, honey, how was your day at work? Anything exciting happen?”
She chuckled, clearly catching his teasing tone, and played right along. “Well, dear. I was very busy. I spent the morning doctor shopping, introducing myself, and trying to drum up some patient referrals. I hit as many as I could from the north end of Dare County. Over the next few days, I’ll do the south end and a few in Elizabeth City. The physicians I saw today were happy to hear I was opening since there are so few PT clinics in the area outside of the hospitals.”
“That’s good—very little competition.” He finished fixing his plate and picked up his fork and knife. “What else did you do, Mrs. Cleaver?”
She arched a brow. “Mrs. Cleaver, huh? Since when did you get old enough to have watched Leave It To Beaver?”
He laughed. “Hey, at least you got the reference—I caught the reruns with my Mom when I was a kid. Unless you’re older than fifty these days, that one goes over most people’s heads.”
Her grin widened.
“Very true.” Grace dug her fork into her potato. “Let’s see. I went to Staples to pick out a few filing cabinets, clipboards, pens, paper, folders, and everything else I’ll need in the office. It’s amazing how fast you can burn through a thousand dollars in that store.”
Sean nearly choked on a bite of chicken and reached for his beer. “Holy cow. No wonder the administrative assistants are always complaining when I need office stuff.”
Her mouth curved in amusement. “Yup. Anyway, after that, I finished painting the silhouettes. Tomorrow I’m interviewing the PT applicants. Then all I need is for the furniture and equipment to be delivered, and I’ll be ready to open. Oh, and I have to go to Best Buy and get a flat-screen TV for the patients to watch if they want. There tends to be a lot of lying around when you’re in PT.”
