Page 108 of Late Harvest

Oh, fuck it. She wasn’t a young girl. She was a strong woman who owned her emotions.

Remy inhaled a fortifying breath and forced herself to say the words. “I missed you, too, Sebastian.” It came out softer than she would’ve preferred, but at least she’d said it.

He ran a fingertip along the edge of her thumb, tracing a path up and down each of her fingers before ending at her naked ring finger. Then he glanced up, eyes catching on the ring she hadn’t yet removed from the special chain he’d purchased. Where she’d been wearing his ring every day at work, tucked under her clothes, then carefully placing it back on her finger when she got home.

“I missed you so much. It was brutal to be without you. I kept thinking how much more enjoyable everything is when you’re with me.” He paused. Swallowed. Ran a hand through his hair. “I meant it, you know.” His gaze drifted over her face. “When I told you I love you last night. I meant it. I wasn’t just…overcome by hot sex. I’m not confusing love and lust—which, to be clear, I also absolutely have for you in abundance. Especially now that you’ve cleaned the vomit off.”

She swatted at him, her laughter trailing at the intensity of his eyes burning into hers. “I meant it, too, Sebastian,” she whispered. “I love you.”

Even though I know you’ll end up hurting me when your feelings run their natural course. I love you anyway. God help me.

“Oh, thank God. I love you, too. So much more than I can properly articulate.” Sebastian dropped back on the bed. “Oh what a fucking relief,” he called out, being his dramatic self that she adored. “I’ve been living in fear that you’d come out of this loathsome contagion and realize that you, uh, you just got carried away.”

Remy tilted her head, appreciating that behind this charismatic, magnetic movie star was a regular person with all the attendant insecurities and foibles.

And he loved her.

“I did get a bit carried away,” she offered with a smirk, “but that was just from the, um…oh for fuck’s sake. That was some amazing sex, Sebastian,” she blurted, her cheeks turning pink, and not from her fever.

He barked out a laugh, the relief on his face clear. “And there’s more where that came from.”

“Maybe let me keep down some saltines and toast before you ravage my body again,” she teased.

Bash hopped up, picking up the plate of saltines she easily could have grabbed herself. But she let him, enjoying a touch of TLC she hadn’t experienced since Tasha Remington.

“Oh, for sure, my queen,” he nodded sagely. “I’m a horndog when it comes to you, but I’m a thoughtful horndog.” He handed her the plate and rounded to what had become his side of the bed, adding in a teasing sotto voice, but clearly intending to be heard, “I’m also not enough of a horndog to risk being vomited on by my queen. Liege man or no.”

Remy’s laughter hurt her sick-ravaged abs.

It was worth it.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

What do you call a group of rabbits hopping backwards?

A receding hare line.

—From Bash’s dad joke collection, which is epic and contagious…

I even caught my queen making a dad joke!

Bash

“You need to get some sleep, my queen. I’m going to put Chicane in the bunny mansion.”

Arabella chuckled softly, and Bash was relieved to see her improving. When he’d picked her up at the hospital, her skin had been a sickly grayish white, and clammy. She’d vomited multiple times on the drive home—thankfully he wasn’t driving, so he could care for her in the back seat.

Fortunately, she’d turned the corner. In the last hour, she’d eaten three saltines and a piece of dry toast, and then drank half a glass of ginger ale along with a bit more of the electrolyte drink. Now it was close to ten, and they both were exhausted.

He hurried to the family room, sang a quick lullaby—hey, the bunny loved it—and tucked their prince in for the night. When Bash returned to the room, Arabella had sunk further into the bed, her eyes hooded as she watched him.

“You sure you want to sleep in here?”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he answered honestly. Being with a sick Arabella was still better than any other experience in the world. Well, other than being with a healthy Arabella, of course.

She smiled and nodded. “Chicane good?”

“He’s probably already sound asleep and dreaming of gourmet pellets.”