Deathblow by Dana Marton Read Free Book Online Page A

breathless. But they would never last beyond a few weeks. A couple of years ago, maybe that would have been fine with her, but now with Justin, everything had changed. She wasn’t interested.
    “He’s going to hit on me, and then things will get all awkward. He’s a womanizer. You said so.”
    Sophie frowned. “I said women like him.” She wasn’t going to give up on this. Quitting wasn’t in her nature.
    “Fine. Joe can drive by when he has free time. But I don’t want him in our lives. I don’t want to confuse Justin with that. I don’t want to be the kind of mother who has a revolving door for all the uncles .”
    Sophie had a look of satisfaction on her face as she gave Wendy a hug. “Joe will be great. You won’t even notice that he’s here.”
    Right. Because at six foot tall and built like a, well, football player, with a chiseled jaw and devilish dark eyes, Joe was so easily overlooked. “If this turns into a total fiasco, I’m blaming you for it.”
    Sophie flashed a brilliant smile as she picked up her box of files. “Give the guy a chance. That’s all I’m asking. He’ll drive by a couple of times a day, maybe park across the street and hang out. He won’t be any trouble.”
    “Okay, fine. I give up.” Wendy opened the door for her, looked out, got distracted by the bright, happy yellow of the forsythia bush. “Mind if I take some photos of your place? The front garden looks great. And in here too.” She looked back. “I like the way the sunshine from the back hits everything.”
    “Seriously?”
    “I’m trying something new. Online stock photo sites. That’s where small businesses that can’t afford their own photo shoots go to find images for their ads and websites.” She eyed the fireplace that could definitely be the backdrop on the cover of a romance novel. Indie authors used the sites too, to make their own book covers.
    “If something I upload is chosen, I receive royalty. Not much, but it adds up.” And the income gave her hope that someday she might be able to earn her living with photography.
    “Knock yourself out,” Sophie told her.
    Wendy followed her outside and opened the car door but didn’t linger. “I’ll call you later.”
    A tall, blonde woman, walking her Dalmatian, hurried toward her, then stopped in front of the house and looked after Sophie’s car as it turned at the end of the street. Her hair fell in haphazard locks to her shoulder, her shirt wrinkled.
    “I was hoping to catch her.” She sighed as she looked at Wendy. “I guess she rented out the house, then?”
    “I’ll be staying here for a little while. Hi, I’m Wendy. Are you one of the neighbors?”
    “Terry. We live at the end of the street. I talked to Sophie about renting the house for my parents. They lost their home to a scam artist. Living with us now, but they’re older and need peace and quiet, not four ADHD grandkids. There’s only one guest bedroom, so they have to share. They hadn’t shared in years. My father snores like a machine. My mother hasn’t slept through the night for weeks.”
    Her tone carried desperation as she continued. “When my mother is on the edge, everybody is on the edge. Especially my husband.” She gazed at the house with raw longing. “I guess you put in your bid first.” She didn’t bother hiding her disappointment.
    “We shouldn’t be here long. If you want to talk to Sophie about renting, just call her,” Wendy said over her shoulder as she hurried back inside.
    She didn’t like leaving Justin unattended. A minute was all it took for an accident to happen. Or, say, the furniture to get wrapped in toilet paper. Or a throw pillow to be frosted with melted butter. She blinked those images away. No sense in dwelling in the past.
    She locked the door behind her and walked to her son, who was singing the Sheep Shimmy song with the TV. Okay, no disaster. She picked him up and put kisses all over his chubby little face. “Ready for