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“Yes,” she replied quietly as people headed to the door. “This is what we wanted. Next up, Malcolm Coveney.”
Except Taylor didn’t believe he’d be so easily caught.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Bets had waited a long time for this day.
Arriving at the arts center to find Mary Kincaid being interviewed by two Garda officers as the blue lights flashed atop their vehicles would be one of her precious keepsakes. And she didn’t care if that made her a bad person.
“I’m taking a photo of this moment,” she told Linc as she dug her phone out of her purse.
“Ghislaine will be documenting it for the media,” Linc told her as they pulled to a stop in the lot. “I still can’t believe she’d make this kind of a mistake.”
Bets grinned as she zoomed her phone camera in on Mary’s taut, severe face. “I don’t care why. All I care is that she fries.”
Linc snorted. “Sugar, you might want to save those comments for later, but I love that you’re rhyming now. Is haiku next at the arts center?”
She unlocked her seat belt and launched herself at him, barely noticing when her knee knocked into the gearshift. “I so want to kiss you.”
The rumble in Linc’s chest reverberated through her body. “Me too. But you are aware that everyone from the pub is parking around us.”
She looked out Linc’s window and waved as Ellie’s face contorted in shock at the spectacle they were making. “I don’t care.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “This is for the first rose competition when she changed the label on my prize rose to hers after seeing mine were bigger.”
“I can tell you something else that’s bigger.” He caged her waist to halt her. “Bets…”
“And this one is for—”
“Enough!” He lifted her off his lap and deposited her in her seat with another swift kiss. “You can document every slight from that witch later, without interruption. But right now, my daughter just stopped in front of my SUV and mouthedWTF.”
Bets started laughing. “It’s good for our kids to know we’re still having sex at our age. Gives them hope, don’t you think?”
Suddenly she couldn’t stop laughing.
“Sugar, this is the kind of meltdown people have after their plane crashes and they’re being handed a blanket by a flight attendant.” He caressed her arm, his brows narrowing. “Just how much stress have you been holding in that hot body of yours?”
When he tickled her side, she cried out and continued to chortle. Someone knocked on the window, and Linc turned the car on so he could roll the window down.
“She’s finally going to pieces, huh?”
Her son’s voice. She looked over to see Liam peering into the cab at her. “I can’t stop laughing, Liam. Mary’s finally going down. And by painting over some graffiti. Isn’t that ironic? She tried to stop us from painting, and now she’s going down becauseshewanted to paint.”
“She could stand being hated by the community,” Liam told her in that wise way of his, “but she couldn’t stand being laughed at.”
Even that was funny, and his serious tone had her laughing like a hyena. “Yoda is always right. Yoda is always right.”
“Oh, brother.” Linc ran his hand over her nape. “Will you stay with your mother? Great, now I’m rhyming too.”
Not a babysitter! Bets emitted a series of high-pitched giggles.
“Sugar, try and focus for a second.”
She stared at Linc and then burst out laughing again.
“Let’s start over,” he said, taking her hand. “I need to talk to Wilt and be ready for John Hart to ask me if we’re pressing charges. Bets, I don’t think I have to ask this, but wearepressing charges, right?”
She was gasping for breath as she laughed. “Charges! Yes! Every charge we can level. Painting without a license. Trespassing—”
“Got it.” Linc leaned over and kissed her soundly. “We’re throwing the proverbial book at her. Keep laughing, sugar. Get it all out of your system. And then come join me. You don’t want to miss Mary being cuffed and put in a police car.”
