Page 41 of The Woman Left Behind

Harry had no idea until right then the skin of a woman’s shoulders and a half an inch of their shin were so fucking sexy, but Lillian proved this true.

“Hey,” she puffed out, taking his attention to her face, which was flushed as he watched her eyes roaming his chest and then they dipped down, and she bit her lip.

Jesus Christ.

“Hey,” he replied, before her staring at his crotch and biting her lip like that gave her more of a show in that area.

Her gaze sped to his and her cheeks flushed deeper.

“You look nice,” she said, her voice husky.

“That’s my line,” he returned, and there it was, more pink in her cheeks.

“Come in while I”—she cleared her throat—“grab my jacket and purse.”

He came in.

She closed the door and hustled to the kitchen table.

There were new flowers there.

He took his attention off them in order to take in the show of Lillian shrugging on a jean jacket, her ass swaying, her hand flipping the long sheath of her hair out of the collar. She grabbed a little bag, shoved her phone and keys in, and settled the strap on her shoulder.

She turned and made her way back, stopping in front of him.

“Shit part out of the way first,” he said gently. “Your dentist doesn’t have your parents’ charts.”

She made that cute scrunchy face, even if why she had to make it sucked.

“I know the folks at Coeur d’Alene aren’t sitting on this. Cops don’t like unidentified bodies. They’re on it. We should hear soon, regardless,” he assured.

She nodded.

He put a line under it by asking, “Have a good Saturday?”

“I cleaned my house. I paid bills. I did my grocery shopping. So now I can be all about you, and tomorrow, I can be all about an epic chillout.”

“Doesn’t sound like a fun day, but I’m all about you being all about me, considering I’m on track to be all about you.” He enjoyed the renewed blush in her cheeks as he finished, “And a Sunday chillout is always good.”

Her head tipped to the side, sending her gorgeous hair tumbling over her shoulder. “Do you let yourself have Sunday chillouts?”

“Afraid people don’t refrain from doing stupid shit on Sundays. And they definitely don’t refrain on Saturday nights.”

“That means no.”

“Yeah, it means no.”

“And you still wouldn’t want to do any other job but this?” she asked.

“And I still wouldn’t want to do any other job but this,” he confirmed.

She stared at him.

And then he grunted when she threw herself at him.

Automatically, his hands went to her waist, and his neck bent so he could look down at her.

Which put him in position for her to slide up on her toes and press her mouth to his.

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