The Last First Kiss. Marie Ferrarella
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Kara pounced on the next question. “Is your mother going to be there?”
Okay, so now it was all crystal clear to him. Not bad, he acknowledged, albeit silently. Saying it out loud would just give her a bigger head. “Yes.”
“Okay, then we will be, too. All we need is one eyewitnessing mother to spread the news to the other.”
“Eyewitnessing,” he echoed. “Is that even a word?”
“It is for this purpose,” she said glibly. “Anyway, they’ll think their plan is working—until we show them otherwise. So, are you in?”
“I’m in,” he answered even as part of him had the sinking feeling that by agreeing, life as he knew it would never be the same again. This very well could be a huge mistake.
Joining forces with Kara was always dangerous. It was a known fact that she possessed a golden tongue. It was also a known fact that she could abruptly leave him holding the bag if it suited her purposes.
He had no reason to believe that eighteen years had changed anything, her greatly improved figure notwithstanding.
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