Page 158 of The Woman Left Behind

I had a plate full of strawberries, grapes, crudité, rolled cured meats, olives, cashews and almonds. I had another plate of toasted baguette slices and feta mixed with cream cheese. I nuked the spicy honey, drizzled it on the cheese, sprinkled the chopped pistachios on top, grabbed some napkins and the other plate and headed back to the bedroom.

I’d heard the cork pop while I was in the kitchen, and Harry had the champagne poured by the time I returned.

He was under the covers, but sitting up, his chest still a feast for my eyes while I put our edible feast on the bed.

I rounded it and got in beside him. Once I’d settled, he handed me my champagne.

“Should we toast?” I asked.

“What would your toast be?” he asked in return.

“Um…” I bit my lip.

His face grew wolfish, and, damn…

I didn’t know he had that kind of look in him.

But…

Nice.

“How about, to a great fuck and many more to come,” he teased.

I raised my glass, laughing. “I will totally toast to that.”

He grinned at me, we clinked, drank, and for my part, I watched closely as he reached for a feta piece, took a bite, then his eyes came to me and they warmed.

“Delicious, sweetheart, and this is perfect,” he said softly, tipping his head to the plates.

“Glad you like it,” I replied.

“I mean all of it, Lilly,” he kept at it. “All of it is absolutely perfect.”

Oh God.

My sweet Harry.

“Glad you like it,” I repeated, but this time it came out husky.

His gaze dropped to my lips.

I felt a rustling, heard a snuffling and looked to the side of the bed to see Smokey’s snout doing some doggie exploring.

“I know you love me, pooch, but I know you want prosciutto right now more than your next breath, and you can’t have any until Daddy’s done with it,” I told him as I reached out a hand to stroke his head.

“I don’t give them human food, Lilly,” Harry said gently.

I frowned at him.

He smiled at me. “I don’t want them begging.”

I made it obvious as I turned back to Smokey, before I glanced to Harry’s side of the bed where two chocolate snouts were also doing some exploring around the edge, then raised my eyes to Harry.

“A dog is gonna dog,” I stated.

Harry started laughing again, maybe not as strong as before, but I still loved it.

I sipped then grabbed my own cheese-smeared piece of bread and ate it. I’d seen the recipe on Instagram, and since it was quick and easy but looked delish, I gave it a go.

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