“I’ve had worse.”
“Have you eaten? I brought food. Alice has the bag.”
“I don’t suppose that bag contains a good Pinot Noir?”
It was a typically Sean response.
Even in a crisis he projected calm. It washed over her, as welcoming as cool air in a heat wave and for the first time since that awful moment when Walter had collapsed at her feet she felt her mood lift slightly. It was as if someone had taken off some of the weight she’d been carrying.
“No Pinot Noir. But there is homemade lemonade.”
“Oh, well, a guy can’t have everything. If you made it, I’m sure it’s good.” He loosened his tie with long, strong fingers, cool and composed, and she wondered if he remembered it had been Pinot Noir they’d drunk that night. “Where is the rest of my family?”
“They’re with your grandfather.”
“How is he?” His voice was gruff, those thick dark lashes failing to conceal the concern in his eyes. “Any change?”
“He looks frail. I hope the doctors know what they’re doing.”
“It’s a good hospital. And how are you?” He caught her chin in his fingers and turned her face to him. “You look like hell.”
“Is that your medical opinion?”
“It’s the opinion of a friend. If you’re asking me as a doctor I’ll have to bill you—” his hand dropped and he tilted his head as he calculated “—let’s say, six hundred dollars. You’re welcome.”
Her heart rate slowly returned to normal. “You trained all those years to tell people they look like hell?”
“It’s a vocation.” He was smiling, too, and that smile made her heart kick hard against her ribs.
“And there I was congratulating myself on looking good in a crisis.” She’d forgotten how easy it was to relax with him. He was easy to talk to and charming. And dangerously attractive.
“I have to go. I need to see Grams.”
“She won’t leave his side and she’s exhausted. She thinks you’re going to be able to perform a miracle.”
“I’ll go to her right now.” His hard features softened fractionally as he spoke of his grandmother. “You’re driving back to Snow Crystal?”
“I just wanted to see him for a few minutes, keep Kayla company and bring food.”
“You still haven’t told me how you are.” Sean’s gaze didn’t shift f
rom her face. “You’re very close to Gramps.”
How was she?
The person she loved most in the world was in the hospital and the Boathouse still wasn’t finished and wasn’t going to open on time.
There would be no opening party. She’d let Jackson down.
She’d had bad days before, but this had been the king of bad days.
But Sean didn’t need to hear that. Their relationship didn’t involve cozy confidences.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “It’s different for me. I am not family. Although I’d also like you to perform a miracle if you have time.”
“I think my grandfather would be the first to dispute that you’re not family.”
“Walter would dispute anything. You know how he loves to argue. He is my perfect man. I love him so much.”