AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She shrugged her neon-covered shoulders. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Like hell. If the government ever needed a sixty-something covert agent experienced in interrogation and subterfuge, Glenda Layton was their woman. “Mom.”
“Oh alright. I need to know who that tall girl is over there with the platinum-blonde hair. She has tattoos, four of them that I can see.”
He scanned the crowd for his mom's target. It didn't take long to spot her. About five feet, eleven inches, wearing painted-on jeans and a black leather jacket, she had short blonde, almost white hair. Saying she stood out was putting it mildly.
“You can only see her skin from the neck up, how did you see any tattoos?”
“You can't see them now. I've been watching her for the past week.”
Poor girl. If she'd landed on Glenda's radar, she was in for a world of trouble. “So what has you so curious about her?”
“I've spotted her arguing with Sam.” Glenda lowered her voice. “Twice.”
What in the hell was his by-the-book brother doing going toe-to-toe with a wild child? Oh, this was going to be good. “Why don't you just ask Sam then?”
Glenda shot him an are-you-stupid look. “You think I haven't? That boy is tighter than a clam when it comes to his business. I'm his mother. Why he thinks he has to keep secrets from me, I'll never know.”
At that moment, the Layton in question got out of his Volvo sedan. Standing stick straight, Sam surveyed the crowd. A devious smile curled his lips the moment he locked eyes on the tall blonde and he threaded through the crowd toward her.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Beth made her way to Hank's side just as the auctioneer stepped to the front porch.
Frank turned on the microphone and inhaled a deep breath. “Remember folks, all proceeds of this auction go to the Dry Creek County Big Brothers and Big Sisters Program. We'll start the bidding at…”
Beth slipped her hand into Hank's. “Come on, let's go.”
“Don't you want to stay?”
Glancing back at the people milling around her grandparents' front yard, she remembered the birthday parties out back, the way her abuelita's cheese enchiladas smelled and the many nights she’d spent as a teenager, tucked away on a lumpy twin mattress dreaming about Hank Layton. The memories were hers forever. She took them with her wherever she went.
“That's just a house.” She brushed his lips with hers. “You're my home.”
