Page 7 of No More Secrets
Summer raised her phone and clicked a picture of him. “I’ll keep an eye out for her just in case,” she said.
“Did you just take a picture of me?”
Summer smiled innocently. “It’s for the blog.”
He pushed away from the door and stalked down the hall, muttering about blogs and articles.
While Carter got naked, Summer distracted herself by changing into black skinnies and a soft gray tunic with a flattering scoop neck. It was the exact color of Carter’s eyes.
She styled her hair into a simple topknot and slipped on ballet flats. Some subtle smoke at her eyes and rose on her cheeks and she considered herself presentable for a casual family dinner.
Summer was halfway down the stairs when the front door swung open.
“Yoo hoo!”
The woman was wrestling a stockpot through the door when Summer got to her.
“Here, let me help.”
“I’ve got this if you can grab the grocery bag out of the backseat,” she said with a quick grin. “I’ll meet you back in the kitchen for a proper introduction.”
Summer hustled outside and grabbed the cloth bag out of the late model sedan. Back inside, she found the woman hunched over the pot on the stove. Dressed in a chunky knit cardigan and jeans, she had dark rimmed glasses and a blunt bob with streaks of silver that framed her oval face. Trim and fashionable, she was clearly very comfortable in Carter’s home.
Summer put the bag on the island.
“Ah! Thank you,” the woman said, slapping the lid back on the pot and turning around. “So, you must be Summer Lentz.” She extended her hand and a trio of bracelets jingled.
“I am.” Summer took her hand.
“Welcome to Blue Moon Bend. I’m Phoebe Pierce. Carter’s mom.”
Her grip was just like her expression, friendly and confident.
“Mrs. Pierce, it’s great to meet you. I’m so excited to be here.”
“Call me Phoebe. And we’re excited to have you,” she said, digging through the drawers for a wooden spoon. “Spaghetti okay for dinner tonight? It’s one of Carter’s favorites.”
“It smells incredible.”
“Pierce family recipe and Pierce family veggies. So where is my handsome oldest?”
“Carter’s upstairs taking a shower.”
“Good. Then we’ll get to know each other before he comes down. Wine?”
Summer grinned. It was going to be much easier getting answers out of Phoebe than her son. She was sure of it. “Sure. Can I help with anything?”
“How about you start chopping for the salad? Pretty much anything you find in the fridge is fair game,” Phoebe said, gesturing with a loaf of garlic bread toward the stainless steel behemoth.
––––––––
When Carter came downstairs, fresh from a shower, he found his mother and his houseguest chatting and laughing in the kitchen.
“There’s my favorite son,” Phoebe said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
“That’s what she calls us when she can’t remember our names,” Carter explained to Summer.
She was clutching one of his nicest knives in a white-knuckle grip and focusing on her massacre of a carrot. Anticipating bloodshed, he grimaced and moved in.
