Page 9 of Lipstick Kiss

“All right, when do we start?”

“Are you free on Monday?”

“I work, Luke. I’m a teacher. Did you forget?”

“Are they still in school?”

“Yeah, for like another three months.”

“Shit, well, maybe we can do it in the evenings.”

“Can’t. The head teacher hates me, and I have four weeks of evening classes.”

“What did you do to piss him off?”

“Exist, apparently. The downside of not being married is I get all the evening classes.”

Luke looked thunderous, frown lines marring his handsome face.

“Is that why you’re marrying Bozo?”

“He’s a nice guy,” she argued.

“Is that right?” he asked, giving her an insolent smile.

She was sure she was busted.

“Tonight, come up to Archer and Erica’s place. They’re having dinner to celebrate my return. Jason’s cooking.”

“Okay, what time?”

“Six.”

“I’ll be there,” she said.

“I’ll see you later,” Luke said, not moving an inch. “Why won’t you give me his name?”

“Because it is none of your business. I don’t want you scaring him off.”

“You know I like a puzzle and will stop at nothing to find out who he is. I bet he’s a teacher.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed nervously.

“See you at six, Luke. It’s good to have you home at last.”

Grinning, Luke took a step into the road, got a ring on abicycle bell for nearly toppling over a cyclist and then walked away.

She had ten hours to get the ring off her finger. Otherwise, Heidi and Jason would take one look at it and reveal she was a big fat liar.

Ten hours later, Heidi slid from the leather seat of the buggy with gloves on. She’d had to rummage through her mother’s gloves to find a suitable pair that enabled her to hold a knife and fork. Or a glass. All her gloves were woolly, and she had to carry everything with two hands. Her mother had elegant gloves in every colour to match her winter coats. Freya imagined her mother could give Cynthia Turner a run for her money in the glove department.

She knocked on Archer and Erica’s front door and kept her hands stuffed in the pockets of her trousers. She wore a loose-fitting pair of white trousers and a baggy blue blouse with cuffs that were too long. If need be, she could hide the ring under the cuffs. So long as she didn’t raise her arm.

Erica opened the door and wrapped her in a big hug. “Come in. We’re all out the back under the heat lamps. It’s unusually warm for March, but I’ve switched them on just in case.”

“Warm, do you think it’s warm?” Freya asked with her best innocent-sounding voice.

“Don’t you think so?”

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