Page 49 of The Last Kiss

“Want me to scrub your back?” Harry said with a comical twitch of his eyebrows.

Ash scooted forward, making room behind him. “Come on. There’s room for two.”

Barely, as it turned out, and they had to stifle their laughter for fear of causing a flood as Harry manoeuvred himself into the tub behind Ash. But eventually, they got themselves situated, Harry leaning back against the bath and Ash leaning back against Harry’s chest. It was more intimate than practical, but Ash didn’t care. Who knew if they’d ever get a chance like this again?

Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die.

“Blimey,” Harry said as they settled together beneath the warm water. “I’m used to a tin bath in front of the fire. Never seen a bathroom like this before.”

It wasn’t much larger than their bathroom at Highcliffe, Ash thought with a guilty pang. “I’d rather a tin bath in front of the fire, with you in it, than all the grand bathrooms in London.” And that was the truth. What did any of this matter, if he wasn’t with Harry?

“You might think different, freezing your arse off in two inches of water,” Harry said, without any reproach. “But it’s not like we’ll have a choice either way. Believe me, my Kitty would be no better friend to us than your mother and father. The world ain’t made for the likes of us, Ash. We’ll have to live in the shadows.”

Ash twisted his head around to see him better. “But you have to wonder how long it can all last.”

“How long all what can last?”

“This.” He waved at the huge bathroom. “In Russia, they’re tearing everything down and starting afresh. And they almost managed it in Glasgow, too.”

“Are you a Bolshevik now, Mr Ashleigh of Highcliffe House?”

He snorted. “Hardly. But surely there’s something between Bolshevism and this? Christ, Harry, there’s men home from the war begging on the streets, there’s women like Olive wasting their God-given talents, and there’s men like us…” He ran a hand over Harry’s chest, a lump rising in his throat at the thought. “There’s men like us doing two years hard labour for falling in love.”

Falling in love. Such sweet, painful, dangerous words.

“The world is what it is.” Harry closed his hand over Ash’s fingers, pressing them flat against his heart. “And it ain’t all bad.”

“But it could bebetter. It has to be, Harry. The war… If nothing changes, then what the hell was it allfor?”

“King and country?” Harry said, a wry tilt to his lips.

“No. It can’t be. Thingswillchange, I know it. We’ll live to see a kinder world. One where Olive won’t need her father’s permission to study medicine, and you and I…” He trailed off, his imagination failing.

Harry considered him thoughtfully. “I’d marry you, in that world, Ash. If you’d have me.”

Startled tears pricked his eyes. It was a fantastical notion, yet it infused him with such longing he could hardly breathe. “In a heartbeat,” he whispered when he’d recovered his voice. “I’d have you in a bloody heartbeat, Harry. You know I would.”

“Well.” Harry’s smile wobbled, failing to hide the emotion shaking his voice. “I’ll consider that a promise, then. For when the day comes.”

The wave of water that landed on the bathroom floor when Ash pulled Harry into a ferocious hug made them both laugh.

But who cared about bathroom floors? All that mattered in the world was Harry West. The rest could go to hell.

***

Harry had their tea cooking — a saucepan of fragrant stew heating on the stove and a loaf of fresh bread — by the time Ash found his way to the kitchen. The tell-tale tap of his cane and the heavy tread of his prosthetic foot meant he’d never be stealthy, and Harry was already turning to the kitchen door when Ash stepped inside.

He’d changed into casual clothes, slacks and a soft-looking pullover sweater in blue and cream stripes. His hair was still damp and fell across his forehead in a way that did silly things to Harry’s sentimental soul. “Hungry?” he said, turning back to give the pot a stir before it started catching. “The girls left us a nice-looking tea, I’ll say that for them.”

“Starving, actually,” Ash admitted. “I didn’t eat much lunch in the end.”

And he still hadn’t told Harry what had happened. Perhaps he’d get it out of him over tea.

He heard Ash come up behind him and didn’t realise he was anticipating his touch until Ash slipped one arm around his waist and leaned against his back. At least he wasn’t alone in this constant need to touch. An embarrassingly soft noise escaped his throat as Ash kissed the back of his neck.

“I wonder if there’s a decent bottle of wine to be had,” Ash said, and moved away to explore the kitchen.

“Won’t they mind us pinching it?” He watched Ash poking around in the larder.

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