Page 140 of The Woman Left Behind

That evening, they’d had dinner with Harry’s family at The Lodge, then went to the Squirrel’s Nest for an after-dinner drink before Harry knew (and put it instantly out of his mind) his father wanted his woman alone in a hotel room, the same with his brother, so those four took off to the Pinetop.

Josh and Amanda were leaving early the next morning because Josh had some appointments in the afternoon he hadn’t had time to reschedule.

His dad and Caroline were staying an extra few days so Greg could commune with some of his old buddies and introduce them to Caroline.

And Harry knew he and Lillian shared the same thing on their minds when he pulled Lillian’s coat off her shoulders, exposing the figure-hugging sweater dress she was wearing under it, a dress that had dicked with his dick all night (her high heeled boots just added insult to injury, though, this was the kind of pain Harry was never going to complain about), and she said, “I’m not sure Greg and Caroline are feeling the whole, I’ve-been-burned-you’ve-been-burned-let’s-keep-this-casual thing anymore.”

“Getting the same feeling,” he remarked, taking her coat to the hall closet.

“Are you okay with that?” she asked, her gaze intent on him.

“Couldn’t be happier,” Harry answered. “As you can tell, Caroline is an amazing woman. She makes Dad happy. So, yeah. They make things official, however they do it, I’m all for it.”

Her intensity cleared, she shot him a soft smile and joked, “Moran men on the move.”

He returned her smile and hung up her coat before he shrugged off his leather one and did the same with it.

“Feeling one last whisky?” she asked.

He was feeling recommencing what they’d been interrupted doing that morning, but since they’d had the intrusion, he was also feeling he should give it another couple of days.

“No, I’m good.”

“I’m going to make some tea, want some of that?” she offered.

He didn’t normally drink tea.

But he was living his life again, so what the hell.

“Sure.”

She grabbed the copper kettle from her stove and took it to the sink.

She then blindsided him. “Want to share what’s got you wound up since you took off this morning?”

He noticed her tenseness then, something she’d also been hiding until she asked that question.

“It isn’t about your mom and dad,” he assured.

She put the kettle on the stove, switched on the burner, then turned to him and raised her brows.

They’d made so many inquiries, it wasn’t a secret they’d reopened Muggsy Ballard’s case.

But Harry had been coasting on brunch plans, her spa appointment, contacting his insurance agent, putting up plywood and sweeping up glass, installing a thermostat (among other things), and Lilly and him changing into something nicer to go to The Lodge as his ploys not to share what his dad had discovered that morning.

He couldn’t dodge it any longer.

“We’ve reopened a case that was deemed a suicide, but it was a homicide, and the person that’s implicated is feeling antsy. He vandalized my house.”

“Oh, Harry,” she whispered.

But he watched carefully, and he didn’t see fear permeating her features.

First, there was obvious upset on Harry’s behalf.

Then, anger.

“Who would do something like that?” she snapped.

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