Page 35 of Strawberry Moon
“I really am so sorry,” I say.
He looks up from his perusal. “For what?” He frowns. “Surely not for the bump. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Could it?Really? How many weddings have you been to where one of the guests ended up under the wedding car?”
His lip twitches. “Maybe not that many, but perhaps I’ve blocked them.”
“I wish I had. I also wish I could block out the memory of the vicar asking you if I had a drinking problem.”
He bites his lip, but then gives in and starts to laugh. I yearningly gaze at his vivid, handsome face which is so full oflife and kindness. He seems almost lit up, as if something is both amusing him and pleasing him. Well, I can put a stop to that. That smile is about to be wiped off when he realises what I’ve done.
“I assured him you didn’t,” he says solemnly.
“Thank you. Please say sorry to the bride and groom for ruining their wedding.”
“I really don’t think you did. My aunt is making noises about having us pay half for the car, as if you colliding with it somehow implies joint ownership. But my mum texted me to say they included it in the wedding speeches and made it into a drinking game where any time anyone mentioned the word head or car they all had to take a shot. She says the guests were half cut by the time dessert was served.”
“I’m no longer surprised the vicar mentioned my supposed drinking problem. He’s obviously known your extended family for a long while.”
He laughs again, and I bite my lip. “I have to tell you something,” I whisper.
He stops laughing, but his eyes are twinkling as he watches me. “Oh really?”
“Yes, but can you sit down first?”
He settles down on the chair, putting his book on the mattress by my leg. “Oh dear, this sounds serious.”
Has he not guessed that I’m about to spoil everything? “It is. But first I really need to say sorry.”
“For the wedding? I’ve already told you there’s no need.”
I gulp. “For quite a lot more than the wedding actually.” I run my hand through my hair and then twine my fingers together, so I stop fidgeting. “You see, I did something really bad to you.”
“Was it when you blew me this morning and grazed my cock with your teeth?”
I gape at him. “That wasn’t an accident. Some men like it.”
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
“No, really, they do. I read it in a book.”
That makes him smile for some reason. “Oh really?”
“Yes, really. There are a lot of nerves on the head of your cock.”
I become aware of silence in the next cubicle and the fact that Harry is now red-faced with suppressed laughter.
“Laugh it up,” I say sourly, and he licks his lip before doing as I suggested.
My lip twitches at the infectious sound, but I can’t allow happiness because I’m about to end his.
“Harry,” I say.
He stops laughing. “Yes, sweetheart.”
“Oh, don’t call me that. I don’t deserve it.”
His face softens. “I shall call you that as much as I like. It’s what you are to me.”
