A Ring For Christmas. Joan Elliott Pickart
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“What was it you wanted to discuss with me about your conversation with Precious and Clyde?” Maggie said.
“Why don’t we enjoy our lunch first, then get into all that after we eat,” he said, smiling.
“But you said you have a very busy afternoon,” Maggie said.
“Yes, so I do,” Luke said, frowning. Really crummy at this. “All right. Precious and Clyde will be arriving in Phoenix in the middle of December, so the holiday wedding is great. Right on the money.”
Maggie smiled. “Good. I’ve chosen the flowers and the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses with a Christmas theme in mind. Did you ask Precious about her dress size and those of her friends?”
“They’re exactly the same as yours, your sister’s and your best friend’s.”
“Isn’t that something?” Maggie said. “Then it will just be a matter of nip and tuck.”
“Indeed.”
Their lunch arrived and Maggie was amazed to find that she’d ordered grilled salmon and steamed vegetables, which weren’t exactly her favorite foods but would do in a pinch.
“Now then,” Luke said after they’d taken the edge off their appetites. “Clyde and Precious said that they will have just made that long flight from London a couple of weeks before the wedding. They’d prefer to not have to pack their suitcases again and go winging off on a honeymoon right away, which makes sense.”
Maggie cocked her head slightly to one side. “They don’t want a honeymoon?”
Get this right, fumble-brain, Luke ordered himself. He wanted to plan that oh-so-important honeymoon trip with Maggie when she was engaged to marry him. It was something that they should do together for real, not as part of this charade.
“They’ll have a trip later on,” he said, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “So what they want is a honeymoon suite here in Phoenix for a few days following the wedding.”
Maggie nodded slowly. “I understand. Well, I really don’t know what’s available because my couples have always left town after the reception. I’ll visit some honeymoon suites in the posh hotels and report back to you.”
“I thought I’d do that investigating with you,” Luke said. “I’ll have the time once I bring my father up to speed on my cases at the office, and as the old saying goes, two heads are better than one. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?”
A teenage boy appeared at the table at that moment to refill their water glasses, and Maggie fought the urge to jump up and hug him for giving her a moment to gather her racing thoughts before answering Luke’s question.
Visit honeymoon suites with Luke St. John? she mentally repeated. Honeymoon suites, where people did what she and Luke had been about to do in her wanton dream? That was not a good idea at all. No, it was a bad plan. Bad, bad. And dumb and dangerous and—
“Maggie?”
But what reasonable excuse could she dish out to Luke as to why he shouldn’t come along on the honeymoon-suite tour? she asked herself frantically. Sorry, Mr. You Melt My Bones, but there’s a very good chance I might tear your clothes off in one of those romantic suites and get you naked as a jaybird, just like in my dream? Yeah, right, she’d just lay that on him. Not.
“Maggie, are you with me here?” Luke said, leaning slightly toward her.
“What?” she said. “Oh, yes, sure thing, Luke. You can come along to look at the accommodations if you like. But doesn’t that sound just a tad boring to you?”
“Nooo,” Luke said slowly, then smiled. “Not at all. Not even close.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”
Because he’d be envisioning the two of them in each of those suites, newly married, husband and wife, about to begin their honeymoon here in Phoenix before leaving on their dream trip. No, that didn’t sound the least bit boring.
“Why not?” he said. Quick, St. John. Come up with something reasonable. “Because, like you, I’ve never seen a honeymoon suite in any of the ritzy hotels in town. It will be informative, interesting. Anytime a person has an opportunity to experience something new they should jump at the chance. It’s good for the gray matter.” He tapped his temple with a fingertip. “Know what I mean?”
“Not really,” Maggie said, frowning, “but I’ll take your word for it.” She paused. “I think it would be best if I made actual appointments for our inspections. I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Fine. And you said you’d decided on the flowers for the wedding. What did you choose? No, wait, let me guess.” Luke drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. “Hmm. You named your business Roses and Wishes. I’m betting that the bridal bouquet is roses, red for the holiday theme with some kind of Christmassy greens and those fluffy things that look sort of like snow.”
“Baby’s breath,” Maggie said hardly above a whisper as she stared at Luke.
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called. How close did I come to being right?”
“That’s exactly what I chose, but…but how did you know?”
Luke reached across the table and covered one of Maggie’s hands with one of his. He gazed directly into her big brown eyes and when he spoke again his voice was slightly raspy and very, very…male. Maggie shivered.
“I knew because you’re Maggie,” he said. My Maggie. Forever.
“Oh,” she said. Get your hand back, Maggie Jenkins. The heat—the heat from Luke’s hand was traveling up her arm and across her breasts that were suddenly achy and…Get your dumb hand back. Sometime within the next hour. “Huh? You knew what flowers I’d pick right down to the baby’s breath because I’m Maggie? I don’t think that makes sense.”
“It does to me,” he said, tightening his grip slightly on her hand. “Yes, ma’am, it certainly does.”
“Would you care for some dessert today?”
Maggie snatched her hand from beneath Luke’s and looked up at the waitress.
“Dessert,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice. “Dessert is a good thing. Yes, it certainly is, but I’m much too full to eat another bite of anything so…no, thank you.”
Bingo, Luke thought. Maggie was flustered and that was dynamite. The heat that had rocketed throughout his body as he’d held her hand had traveled through her, too, he was certain of it. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink and her voice was trembling slightly. Fantastic.
“And you, sir?” the waitress said. “We have a scrumptious Black Forest cake today.”
“A man certainly can’t pass up Black Forest cake,” Luke said. “Why don’t you bring me a slice. With two