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“Promise me first,” I said. “That it stays between us. Not just Gemma. Everyone. I’ll promise too.”
Tess held out her little finger, completely seriously. “Pinky promise. Like when we were kids and you swore not to tell your mum I’d broken the greenhouse.”
I hooked my little finger round hers. “I never told.”
“I know. That’s why I trust you.” She didn’t let go of my finger. She used it to pull me closer. “Nobody. Not Gemma, not your mates, not my agency, not your diary.”
“I don’t have a diary.”
“Liar.” She kissed my jaw. “This is ours.”
Something about the word ours went straight through me. She felt it, I think. She smiled against my skin and slid her hands under my shirt, her palms cool on my stomach.
“Here’s a confession, since we’re doing secrets,” she murmured. “I’ve been thinking about this since I saw your face on the doorstep. Not the job. You.”
She stepped back and unzipped her dress and let it fall. Black lace, curves, a little tattoo of a swallow on her hip that I definitely hadn’t seen at any barbecue.
“Now,” she said, eyes sparkling. “I could just give you exactly what you paid for. Or I could make you wait for it. Really, really wait.”