Page 37 of The Woman Left Behind

That didn’t make him smile, it made him grin.

She really wanted to go out with him.

Since he wanted that too, he was all the way down.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” she mumbled, sounding nervous. And then she gave it to him. “Just so you know, this isn’t a he’s my rescuer situation. Just so you know…” There was a very long, heavy pause, then on a rush, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, which was good, since she wasn’t done talking.

“Not in a stalkery, euw kind of way. I mean, you’re handsome. And, um…tall.”

“Thanks,” he choked out, trying hard not to bust out laughing.

“So, it stands to reason I would.” Another lengthy pause. “Have a crush on you, that is.”

“To put you out of your misery, sweetheart, I may have just met you a few days ago, so my crush hasn’t lasted that long, but it’s there.”

“Really?” she whispered, so soft, so sweet, so hopeful, he felt it in his chest and his dick.

“Really,” he whispered back.

“Can I go back to Willie and why I?—?”

Oh no, they weren’t going to do that.

“Lillian,” he interrupted her. “Let’s start here. You’ve had a life. I’ve had a life. And we can, and I hope we will, talk about those lives. I wouldn’t pick how we met as how I’d like to meet a beautiful woman I’m very attracted to and would like to get to know better. But we don’t have a choice but to work around that. So how about we stick with easy shit for a while and get into the heavier shit later?”

“That would be awesome,” she breathed, causing Harry to grin again. “So what’s easy shit?” she asked.

“I have no clue,” he admitted.

He heard her soft, pretty laugh, and he wondered if her mother’s singing was as musical as Lillian’s laughter.

“So, I already checked, and tomorrow night the theater has a double bill of Murder by Death and Knives Out,” she stated. “It starts at seven, and there’s a half hour intermission, so it might be a late night.”

“I’m an early to bed, early to rise guy, but I can make an exception on a Saturday.”

“I’m an early to bed, early to rise girl, too.”

“You wanna eat junk at the theater, or hit Luigi’s for some pasta before?”

“Let’s go for pasta before. I haven’t been to Luigi’s in ages.”

That meant more time. Time to chat. Time to get comfortable with each other.

He was so fucking totally down.

They continued to talk while he sipped beer and envisioned her sitting on her comfortable-looking couch.

He told her about his dogs and asked if she liked animals.

She told him about her cat, who she’d had for fifteen years, getting it for some company right after her parents went missing, but it had died the year before, and, “I’m still not ready to replace her.”

She also spoke about her parents missing like it was matter of fact, something Harry had no doubt it had become for her as the time stretched on.

But the loss of her pet openly gutted her, even if she lost her the year before.

Not that he wanted to even contemplate losing one of his babies, but how much she cared for her cat said good things to Harry.

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