Page 133 of The Woman Left Behind

But black was not her color.

“Again, your choice, but you look gorgeous. You’re the perfect mix of your mom and dad.”

“Perfect mix,” she whispered, slid her arms around him, and pressed her cheek to the lapel of his suit jacket.

He dropped a kiss on her head.

“Hungry?” he asked there.

“How long do you think we have to stay here?” she asked in return.

“You want me to take you away right now, we’re gone. But I reckon Ronetta knows the protocol.”

He was right.

She did.

Because twenty minutes later, Lillian and Harry were in his truck with an urn…

And a massive posterboard picture of two people in love.

THIRTY-TWO

Cleansing and Warm

Harry

The next morning, Harry came out of the bathroom wearing jeans, a long-sleeved tee, his hair wet and combed back, his feet bare.

He hit Lillian’s great room to see Linus and Lucy flat out on their beds, but Smokey was sprawled on the floor next to the chair Lillian was sitting in at the kitchen table.

Not a surprise. He and his pups had run five miles that morning.

Lillian was wearing sleep shorts, a tight cami, a slouchy cardigan, with equally slouchy big socks on her feet.

She had one heel up to the seat, the other foot on the floor, and her finger was through the handle of a mug of coffee. Her eyes were drowsy, her hair a sleep-tangled mess, and she was a mix of totally adorable and imminently fuckable.

Her somnolent green gaze came to him, then it went to the kitchen counter.

Harry looked there and saw a steaming mug of coffee by the Nespresso.

She’d timed it to have it hot and ready for him when he got out of the shower.

Christ, he wanted to go right to her.

But he knew that wasn’t wise. They were fresh off the memorial. They had plans in about an hour to meet up with everyone (including his family and hers) at the Double D for brunch, and as such, yet again, the time wasn’t right.

So Harry took her invitation of coffee as his excuse not to drag her back to her bedroom.

He was hips against the counter, heel of one palm on it, sipping her kickass coffee, when she said, “Caroline called. They checked and they’ve got openings for facials and massages at the Pinetop. She asked if Ronetta, Sherise and I want to join them this afternoon. I called Ronnie, and they were all in. I hope it’s okay that I said yes.”

“Of course it’s okay, baby,” he murmured.

“I’ve never been to the Pinetop spa,” she told him. Then she mumbled, “I’ve never actually been to a spa.”

Harry could see that. In spite of it all, she’d made a beautiful life, but it wasn’t a surprise it didn’t include regular spa visits, or any at all.

But it was high time she added those kinds of things to her busy schedule.

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