Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2) (25 page)

“Maybe I saw what unhappiness saying ‘yes’ to those kinds of things could bring to a person—a family—and I didn’t want any part of it. You’re right. I never did do drugs or drink or any of that other stuff most teenagers do. I went to college. I made something of myself. I wasn’t about to be some loser who—”

“Is that what you think I am?” His words cut through her rant, and suddenly she realized how she’d sounded.

“No. Of course not. I was only saying—”

“Don’t bother. I think I know what you were saying.” Liz’s chest grew tight with regret as his playful expression faded. He stepped away as if to leave.

“Carter, wait!” Liz threw her back against the kitchen door, blocking his chest with her palms. “I wasn’t talking about
you
, I was talking about other people… people like my brother.”

His eyes pierced hers, dark, haunted. Hurt. “And how am I different than him? You know my past isn’t squeaky clean. I never finished college, Liz. Never ‘made something of myself.’ I think you’ve made it perfectly clear what you think of me.”

“I don’t think you have any idea at all.”

“Name one thing that differentiates me from someone like your brother,” he demanded.

She stared at his mouth, at the firm, set line as serious and defiant as his senior picture. “For one thing, I never wanted to kiss
him
.”

Her eyes flew up as she uttered the words, as the shock of her own frankness drew an answering look of surprise—and awareness—on Carter’s face.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, the air trapped in her lungs, her mind a riot of thoughts, feelings. But then she realized she felt more than the urge to kiss him. How could she tell him she’d always admired his dogged optimism and carefree attitude—despite his tragic childhood? He’d lost his parents at a young age, gone into business with his uncle when college hadn’t been the right fit. He was self-assured, sexy and unrepentantly stubborn—everything Liz had always wished she were and wasn’t. Plus, she’d had a killer crush on him since before she had braces.

“I should hope not,” he finally said.

“I’ve never thought of you as a loser,” she whispered.

His mouth tilted at one corner. “I’ve never thought of you as boring.”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as the air sparked between him. “Thanks for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stared at his mouth. It was softening now, the corners lightly curving. “I imagine you have to get to work,” she said to his lips.

“It’s Saturday. It’s raining. I don’t have to be anywhere.”

She nodded, afraid to look him in the eye. Afraid of what she might see there. If he didn’t kiss her, if he walked away, she’d know he didn’t return her interest. That was fine. She could live with that. She had thus far, hadn’t she?

But what if he
did
kiss her? What would she do? Would he stop at one kiss? Should she stop him? Did she want to? Would he sweep her away? She didn’t need romance, per se, she—

“Liz.”

She swallowed and continued to stare at his mouth.
“Mmm?”

“Liz.”

Taking a shallow breath, she dared to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. “Yes?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he held her gaze, leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers. Soft. Warm.

Heavenly.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she clamped down on the impulse to drag him toward her and grind her mouth against his the way her body craved, fearing what might happen if she took even one tentative step down that slippery slope.

Instead, she let herself glory in the moment. Finally! Here! Today was the day Carter McIntyre kissed her again! Had she imagined it like this? His lips so incredibly warm? His breath melding with hers as his mouth parted ever so slightly?
Journey
playing ‘Open Arms’ in the background?

Okay, maybe there wasn’t a rock ballad playing on cue, but she made up for it by humming a soft moan of pleasure somewhere in the back of her throat as she let herself sink into the pleasure of this one, perfect kiss.

Just like the first time.

After a few heady moments, Carter pulled back, an easy, sensual smile lingering on his lips. “I guess you can cross ‘Counted Carter’s Fillings” off that ‘Liz Never’ list,” he said. “Anything else I can help you with today?”

Liz gasped. Here she was, winded, overwhelmed, needy in ways she’d not remembered feeling for a
long
time—if
ever
—and he was making light of it? “Is this just a joke to you?”

“Come on, Liz. Have a sense of humor.”

She squiggled out of his arms. “Pardon me if I don’t have the sense of humor of a thirteen year-old.” She brushed the hair from her temple with a shaky hand. How could he make light of something that felt so monumental? She’d spent the better part of her youth mooning after this guy and dreaming about one stupid kiss shared in a dark closet and when she finally gets the nerve to relive that moment after ten,
long
years, he makes a crack like that?

“It was just a joke,” he said.

“It wasn’t funny.”

Carter sighed and shrugged and stepped away. “You need to lighten up, Beacon.”

“You need to think before you speak.”

His eyes flashed, but he didn’t say anything else except. “I’ll see you Monday.”

She nodded curtly, not trusting herself to be polite in return and wordlessly walked him to the door. She closed it softly behind him.

Carter McIntyre wasn’t worth a slam.

CHAPTER THIRTY
____________________

B
AILEY WAS BACK at Liz’s door, knocking, within ten seconds of Carter leaving.

Liz opened the door. “
What?”

Bailey raised an eyebrow. “Somebody’s in a pissy mood.”

“Yes, somebody is. I also have no sense of humor, so watch out.”

Bailey walked in without being invited. “I forgot my bag. Got halfway to my job and realized I don’t have keys to get in.”

“Sorry, go ahead. I’m sure it’s around somewhere.”

Bailey started walking toward the kitchen. “I was afraid I might have to sit in my car for a while. Didn’t want to disturb you two if Carter was still apologizing.”

“Yes, well you’re lucky he quickly made an ass of himself.”

“It’s only been ten minutes.”

“He works fast.”

“What happened?”

“Remember that kiss back in high school?”

“The one you wrote sonnets about?”

“Mmm. Well, we kissed and you know what he says? He makes some crack about my counting his fillings. Can you believe it?”

“Did you?”

“Of course not! It was a beautiful… moment.”

“Until he didn’t recognize the magnitude of the occasion.”

Liz refilled her coffee. “When you put it like that…”

“It makes it sound like he was getting that scary chick vibe and wanted to redirect away from all the heavy emotional stuff?”

Liz looked at Bailey over the rim of her mug. “You think I’m a scary chick?”

“Serious. Just serious. You need to lighten up sometimes, that’s all.” Liz closed her eyes. “Un
less
he already told you to lighten up… in which case you need to kick his unfeeling ass right on out of here! Ah, here’s my bag!”

Liz sighed and flumped into a chair. “You’re right. I blew it. I finally get the courage to kiss the guy after all this time and it’s—honest to God—as incredible as I remember, and I go and spaz out on him. Lovely.”

“The good news is this isn’t
Fatal Attraction
spazzing. You can recover from this.”

“How?”

“Getting naked usually helps.” Bailey fished in her bag without looking up.

“It was hard enough kissing him. I don’t think getting naked is in the cards.”

Bailey popped a peanut butter cup into her mouth. “My experience is, where there’s unfinished business, getting naked is always in the cards.

“By the way, I think you should look outside.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
____________________

L
IZ STOOD IN THE dining room and stared out the window at the string of smiley-face lights Carter had hung along the roofline of the shed. She had no idea when he’d done it. Probably yesterday before he came inside with the flowers. They hung there, glowing and smiling goofily, even though it was pouring rain over their little faces.

She hated them and loved them all at the same time.

Liz sighed, watching the rain drip off the shed roof and puddle on the ground. Because of the rain, she’d spent her Saturday afternoon tackling indoor punch-list items before spending the night second-guessing every action of her adult life.

Did
she take everything too seriously?

By the time Sunday morning rolled around—still damp and cold—she hadn’t come to any epiphanies.  She rose and dressed early with every intention of getting started on a fresh to-do list for the day but, instead, found herself staring at her yellow legal pad on the kitchen table, sipping her third cup of coffee and wallowing in self-doubt. It was nine o’clock, and she’d only gotten as far as writing ‘to do’ at the top in bold, purposeful letters.

Was
she boring?
Had
she shied away from living? Did she really have no sense of humor? Those questions and more had plagued her fitful night, in part, because she knew they held a grain of truth in them.

True, she hadn’t sought opportunities to rebel against her parents. Hadn’t she seen firsthand how hurt they were by John’s reckless behavior? How frightened they were when he’d stagger in the door at three in the morning? How Mom would cry when John argued with Dad? Liz could still hear the slam of the door as he’d storm from the house. Again. Then Mom would quietly, resignedly call the police to pick him up, because she knew he wasn’t fit to drive.

Liz had vowed never to cause such pain. Then, when Trish had gotten pregnant and moved out, Liz had made a second vow to be the perfect child. To never cause her parents a moment’s worry.

But, where had that gotten her? Here she was, in her parents’ home, the only one
not
doing whatever she darn well pleased with her life because she was still busy being the dutiful child.

Still busy being everything everyone expected of Brainy Beth Beacon.

But what if I wasn’t?
she wondered.
Who would I be? What would I do then?

“Go skinny dipping—at noon,” she murmured as she penned the words on the notepad. She stared at them and laughed a bit self-consciously at herself. It wasn’t as if she actually planned to follow through on it. It felt freeing, though, if even in fantasy, she could escape from the boring box she’d painted herself into.

Grinning, Liz added another item to her list. Then another. Before long, she was at number ten. She tapped her pen on the pad and pondered.

Then, laughing out loud, she added one final item to the list and headed up to shower.

“L
IZ? YOU HOME?”

Carter knocked on the slider door and waited, the weather wet and overcast again this morning. The heavy rains they’d had overnight would make it difficult to continue the patio until things dried out or he’d make a mess of their yard.

He’d made up an excuse to come over anyway, intending to talk to her about the design for the side walkway. In truth, he was still a little peeved about how things had gone the last time he’d been over. Peeved and a little turned on.

It was not a pleasant combination.

He couldn’t say why he’d cracked the joke when he did. Maybe it was because Liz was looking at him in that intent, vulnerable way she had, and he’d wanted to put her at ease.

Now, he wanted to shake the superior out of her. Figuratively speaking, of course.
He
needed to think before he spoke? Pot calling the kettle black.