Page 21 of Lipstick Kiss

“What?”

This was said in a normal tone like she was about to ask him if he wanted an apple or an orange.

“Nothing. You coming in for a coffee?”

“Sure. You have any biscuits?”

“Absolutely.”

Luke gave her a beaming smile and wheeled her case up to her front door, and lugged it inside once she’d got the door opened.

Chapter Six

Luke

“You’re filthy,” Luke said, watching Freya on her hands and knees, feeling the grass over the two plots in front of the unmarked grave stones.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her swaying hips as she moved. Did she always move so gracefully? He couldn’t say he had ever noticed. That damn ring on her finger glinting in the sunlight reminded him he shouldn’t be thinking of her that way, even if he was sure she had made the man up.

If she had made him up, she had something to hide.

But his aunt was sure hiding something bigger if his siblings didn’t know about these graves. Aunt Cynthia absolutely knew.

But he was fucked if he was going to ask her.

“I’ve got my least favourite clothes on. It doesn’t matter. I want to see if there are any clues below the grass line, maybe initials.”

“I’m guessing whoever wanted these here knows who isin the ground. What I don’t understand is why there are two. Surely they’d use the same plot?”

“Maybe they died a while ago, and there is no one down there, and these are symbolic.”

“With no words?”

“I did a little research. There have been deliberately unmarked graves over the centuries. Some because the family didn’t have much money, they could only afford the headstone. Clearly, that’s not the case with your family, as your family is the richest family in the land, not counting the King.”

“Quite.”

What else could he say? He couldn’t deny he came from a rich family, not that he saw any cash from it. But he never took for granted a full stomach, clothes on his back and a roof above his head until he could get the fuck off the island and earn his way.

“In Ireland, there is a gravesite that has big rocks to show who is buried where. The families know the boulder that looks like a loaf of bread is Uncle Bertie, who spent all his time up in the hills tending his sheep.”

Luke chuckled as Freya sat back on her calves, swiped her hand free of the dirt and placed her hands on her hips.

“Nothing,” Freya said.

She curled her feet under her, moved into a crouch and then stood in such a smooth move he wanted to applaud. He was stunned at her agility, and she didn’t do any yoga classes he knew about.

“What?” she asked.

Snapping out of his daze of Freya in tight workout gear, he glanced back to the gravestones, and an idea popped into his head.

“We need to find Copper Island’s gravedigger. Someonehad to dig the graves, and it wasn’t my aunt. Likely wasn’t Bailey either at his age.”

“I don’t know who digs the graves at All Saints Church or your chapel. Reverend Sprite might know,” Freya suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Let’s go see if she’s in.”

“I need feeding first, Luke Turner. We should pop by and see Maggie,” Freya suggested.

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