Page 67 of The Last Kiss

From behind him, he heard Ash’s uneven gait as he struggled to keep up, but Harry didn’t slow. “Hold on,” Ash called. “I need to — Wait.” He grabbed Harry’s arm and even that simple touch jolted like an electric shock, jerking Harry to a halt. “Wait,” Ash said again, sounding breathless and bemused. “I don’t really want to go to the pub. I need to talk to you.”

Ash was standing too close and Harry could see a sparkle in his eyes. It was excitement, he realised. Christ. He retreated a step. “What’s to talk about? Hell, why are you even here, Ash? What good will come of this?”

“You’ll find out if you listen.” He pulled his hat off and scraped a hand through his hair. “Lord, I’ve missed you. Is there somewhere we can go? Somewhere private?”

Harry wanted nothing more — and it was the last thing he should do. It would be both dangerous and wrong. Backing up, he shook his head. “No. We ain’t like that.”

Ash frowned. “Like what?”

“Yourwifewill be expecting you.”

“Harry listen — ”

“Wecan’t. It ain’t right. I — ”

Without another word, Ash grabbed Harry’s lapel and hustled him into one of the narrow alleys that ran between the houses. It was dark and dank and smelled of boiled cabbage. “Harry, let me explain — ”

“No!” Wrenching himself free, Harry turned to leave. But found himself standing still, both hands fisted. Paralysed. Heshouldgo. It was the right thing to do. But he couldn’t.

“Harry?” Ash laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Please, listen.”

It was too much. That soft touch broke his flimsy resolve and with a wordless sound he spun back around. “God forgive me,” he rasped and gathered Ash into his arms, crushing their mouths together.

Ash’s cane clattered to the floor, his hat tumbling after as they wrestled to get closer, hands knotting in each other’s clothes and hair, lips clashing and chasing. With a grunt, Ash pressed Harry hard against the wall, kissing him hungrily, one palm cupping his face. His touch was a balm to Harry’s shattered soul, wonderful but wrong. Very wrong. Ash had a wife, he’d made vows. With a soft, broken cry, Harry tore away from the kiss, buried his face into the crook of Ash’s neck, and held him tight because he couldn’t bear to let him go.

And then a door slammed at the far end of the alley and they sprang apart.

Harry’s heart rattled, breaths rasping in the silence, tears damp on his cheeks. He scrubbed them away with the heel of one hand and stared at Ash. In the gloom, his face was all shadow save the gleam of his dark eyes. “You alright?” Harry said shakily. “Did your father — ? Did he hurt you?”

Ash shook his head. “You?”

“No. Other than making me leave you.” He swallowed the thickness in his throat and resisted the urge to reach out again. “You shouldn’t have come here, Ash. It ain’t safe. And it ain’t right, what we did just now. You’re a married man.”

“Harry, listen to me.” Ash glanced along the passageway. It was quiet save the distant drone of a woman singing but he lowered his voice anyway. “My marriage to Olive… It isn’t real.”

Harry stared, chest squeezing with shameful hope. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — That is, wearemarried, but only because it’s convenient to us both. There’s nothing but friendship between us. Olive doesn’t want more, and God knows I don’t. Look, I can’t explain everything here, but — ” He took a step closer, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “Olive knows about us.”

“Knows?” He felt sick. “How?”

“I told her. And she’s…” He shook his head, the soft smile on his lips twisting Harry up with envy. “She understands. She supports us, Harry. She supports us being together.”

What the hell was he talking about? “We can’tbetogether.” A pulse of fear tightened his jaw. “You shouldn’t even be here. For God’s sake, Ash,think.”

“I have thought,” he said indignantly. “I’ve done nothingbutthink. Harry, Olive has a property in the New Forrest. Milford Cottage. It’s not in good shape, but I’ve seen it and it would be perfect. It already has stables, although they’re in need of repair, but there’s room for a good-sized paddock and it’s far from anywhere and — ”

“Stop.” He couldn’t listen to this. “Ash, for God’s sake, what are you talking about?”

“Our future. Breeding horses. Olive wants to invest the capital, you’ll be the expert and I’ll run the business end of things. I’m good with money.” He smiled as if he wasn’t building castles in the air. “Don’t you see? This is how we can be together.”

Harry rubbed both hands over his face. “You’re dreaming, Ash.”

“No.”

“We talked about this.” He let his hands drop to hang miserably at his side. “I don’t know what you and Miss Allen have cooked up in your ivory tower, but I live in the real world. What you’re talking about, it’s a fantasy.”

“It’s not.” Ash took an urgent step closer, a wild light in his eyes. “It’s real. I’ve seen it, Harry. Milford Cottage is real. We could go there tomorrow.”

---