Page 42 of Strawberry Moon
I turn my head. He’s lying on his back, his full attention on a book—probably the same one he was reading last night. His hair is a dark mess, his chin covered in stubble, and he has on his reading glasses. They’re a new addition. He’d resisted getting them for ages, saying in a grumpy voice that he didn’t need them and could see perfectly well. And that’s how he ended up coming out of the supermarket, getting into the wrong car, and scandalizing the vicar. Turns out the vicar wasn’t bothered at Harry being a surprise passenger, but more stunned at the fact that Harry thought I was in the passenger seat and had started the conversation with a detailed resume of what he’d be doing to me when we got home.
The vicar now winks at him when he sees him, and Harry blushes whenever we walk past the church. “Like a shy vampire,” I’d remarked fondly as we’d marched at top speed to the local Specsavers.
“I like your glasses,” I observe. They’re tortoiseshell and make him look very sexily academic.
He blinks and then smiles, raising his arm so I can curl up next to him. I rest my head on his chest, feeling the hairs tickle my cheek. “What are you reading?” He doesn’t say anything and when I turn my head to look up at him, he gives me a smile. My eyes narrow. It’s a funny smile—crooked, shy, and a little nervous. “You okay?”
“Oh yes, definitely.” He nods as if to punctuate that enthusiastic statement and then drags in a deep breath and turns over the book so I can see the cover.
“Torridly Yours.” I can’t stop my grin. “Hello, my old friend.”
He chuckles. “The source of all your scheming.”
“You certainly reaped the benefits.”
He brushes his finger over my cheek, his face unexpectedly serious. “I certainly did. I’m eternally thankful to Jared and Fiona.”
“You should be.” I look at the book in his hands. “Where did you get that from? I used a library book back in the day.”
He reddens. “I ordered a copy a while ago.”
Warmth fills me. I reach up and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re really the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not sure about that.” He hesitates. “Did you ever read the end of their story? It has an epilogue.”
“Do you know, I don’t think I did,” I say, startled. “I lost interest in it once I had you and could go back to murder mysteries.” His lip twitches. “I presumed that Fiona would be on her thirtieth eyelash transplant, and that Jared’s hair would grow so big he could no longer leave his office.”
He licks his lips and then offers the book to me. “Why don’t you read it?”
“What?Now?”
“No time like the present.”
“Well, we did meet the author last night, after all. Seems only fitting that we honour her.” I pause, taking the book he hands to me. “I just remembered. What happened to my autograph?”
“It’s around here somewhere.”
“Hopefully we find it at the same time we find the box with my thongs. I can’t go commando again.”
“You need to buck your ideas up. There’s no such word as can’t. Just will, won’t, and shan’t.”
I chuckle and then open the book at the epilogue as Harry watches intently. “They end up married, don’t they? With dozens of children who inherit their mother’s dizzy spells, and Jared spends the rest of his life picking them all up from the floor.”
“Maybe.”
I begin to read the epilogue, scanning the lines and smiling at the characters as I remember back to when this was my dating manual. Luckily, my grandfather retired from the matchmakinggame after me, because my nan got bored with Mills and Boon and moved on to cosy mysteries.
I reach the last sentence and sigh. “All ended well.” I look over at Harry and narrow my eyes. His regard is far too serious, considering he’s been watching me read a Mills and Boon. I love that he finds me interesting, but he’s surely scraping the barrel with my current occupation.
“What did you think?”
“I was vaguely hopeful that they might be murdered in a horrible and inventive manner,” I say wistfully.
He swallows. “Not in a romance novel. They had to settle for happy ever after.”
I grin at him. “I want you to know that I love you, even though you’re being very weird at the moment.”
“Thank you. You haven’t turned the last page.”
