We had an autumn picnic in the leaf-covered woods near the place where Jase Carmichael was abducted by his lover Ravenrock. Our red-and-white checkered blanket, bottle of white wine, cubed cheeses, and a liver pate with French crackers, sat between us. The day ended up being stunning for November: very little to no wind, a cloudless sky, warm over cold, seasonal colors everywhere; a picture-perfect description of each other enjoying company, climate change, and the Earth continuing its slow demise around us.
Conversation moved from the comfortably warm weather to the upcoming holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then to Harry asking me, “Will you stay with me?”
“Here in Bitter? Or just today? Or tonight?”
He looked adorable with wide eyes, ginger-perfect. Smiled. Winked at me. To
