Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2) (27 page)

“Helping an old friend? Not a problem.”

She looked as if she wanted to protest further, but he flashed her a bright grin and asked how her father was doing. That distracted her long enough and soon they pulled into her drive.

She slipped from the cab and hurried to the front door. Carter followed more slowly, the paint cans a solid weight in his hands.

He balanced one on his knee as he waited for Liz to open the lock, enjoying the flex of muscle in his arm, the tension in his thigh. If anyone asked, he would have readily admitted he liked manual labor. The exertion, even the sweat. It felt good to put his mind and body toward one purpose. It helped him feel centered, calm almost.

As Grams always said, the right kind of activity kept him out of trouble.

“You really don’t have to—” Liz began again as he followed her through the door.

“I’m not charging you for it, Liz. I just want something to do with my hands.” Her eyes flashed to his, and suddenly he heard his words in a different light and wondered if he were keeping out of trouble or stepping into it. “I like to keep busy,” he said somewhat hoarsely, wishing he hadn’t been picturing something entirely different he might be doing with his hands.

“Of course,” she murmured, scurrying toward the kitchen. “Let’s get started then.”

He blew out a ragged breath and told his hands to behave themselves.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
____________________

Twelve years earlier…

I
T HAPPENED IN A BLUR. One minute Carter was grinding the half-smoked cigarette under his heel, the next minute he’d pinned Dan-the-Jerk-Jock-O’Connell against the wall in the Whitmeyers’ hallway, his fist at Dan’s throat.

“I don’t think so,” was all he’d said.

“
What the f—?”
Dan sputtered. “Lay off! What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Carter said, the adrenaline pumping through his veins like an electric current.  “There’s
nothing
wrong with
me
.”

He leaned closer, perversely enjoying the sheen of sweat beading on Dan’s brow. “Now, listen up,” he ground out, his voice lower and more gravelly than it had been in all of his seventeen years. “You’re
not
going in there. You’re
not
giving
anyone
an education. And you’re
not
ever
going to breathe a word of this to anyone. Got it?”

Dan shook Carter off, but that’s only because Carter chose to let him go. “Christ,” Dan swore. “Are you fucking high?” But, he backed away anyway, straightening his jacket and glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one had witnessed anything. “I don’t need this shit,” he said. “If you want her so bad, she’s all yours.”

Carter raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Asshole,” Dan muttered as he retreated down the hall.

Carter waited until Dan was gone before he exhaled. His body was humming, still throbbing with whatever emotion had made him act on animal instinct, because it sure as heck hadn’t been his brain. If he’d been using his brain, he wouldn’t have pinned the most popular jock in class against the wall and gone psycho on him.

There’d be no repercussions, though. There’d been no witnesses. Dan wasn’t stupid enough to admit he’d been bested by an outsider whose muscles didn’t come from lifting weights in the gym but from shoveling manure and throwing rocks around for his uncle’s landscaping business.

Carter glanced at the door in front of him.

She’s all yours.

Shit. He couldn’t just leave her there. How humiliating would that be? Beth wasn’t so bad. A little nervous maybe. A lot serious. But she had a sweet smile and she’d sat in that library week after week drilling him on trig until he thought he’d dream in parabolas. No, he couldn’t leave her there.

He swallowed. But, if he went in there now, he’d taste of beer and cigarettes for sure. She’d know it was him.

Rummaging through his coat pockets, he dug out a package of Twizzlers and crammed one into his mouth. It was better than nothing. He spotted a room deodorizer on the hallway table, rubbed it lightly on the outside of his coat to cover the smoke scent on his clothes and figured it was now or never.

Swallowing the last of the Twizzler, Carter took a breath… and snicked open the pantry door.

She stood in shadow, the light of an outdoor streetlight only half illuminating her. She had her hands clasped in front of her and her head held high, her lips in a faint smile as if amused by the situation.

Carter smiled, too, even though she couldn’t see him, and closed the door.

He almost said hi, just to put her at ease and let her know he was there, but the sudden alertness in her posture told him she already knew. Her smile faded.

Now what?

He realized he was shaking, an aftershock from his run-in with Dan, no doubt, but it left him feeling oddly nervous, something he wasn’t used to feeling around a girl. He took a step closer and reached out to touch her hand so she’d know where he was.

She jerked then gave a soft, nervous laugh. “Sorry,” she whispered, although it sounded louder in the small room. “You surprised me.”

Her lips formed a half smile under the blindfold and Carter found himself staring at them. They were a soft pink color. He’d never noticed before how sexy they were. How wide and full and tempting. He found himself looking forward to a taste.

He took another step closer, and her tongue darted out as his toe knocked against hers. She laughed a little and he took the opportunity to steady himself by resting his hands on her elbows.

He didn’t let go.

He just needed to kiss her. It shouldn’t be hard. Hell, he’d made out with girls for a hell of a lot longer than seven minutes, and at this point, he didn’t think anyone was counting. But, if he didn’t make an effort, didn’t make it last a little while, Beth would be crushed thinking she’d somehow disappointed.

No. No matter how bad she was at this, he had to at least give her five minutes before he quit. He owed her that much.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and he slid a hand up her shoulder, instinctively trying to soothe her, and cupped her nape. His fingers flexed, discovering the soft, silky skin there, and he ran his fingers lightly up and down her nape again, enjoying the feel of it.

She leaned into his hand, a soft gasp escaping her and he took that moment to lean forward and press his lips to hers.

She went rigid for one surprised second, and then softened underneath him, a faint smile forming against his mouth for a brief moment before she leaned more firmly into him, seeking. Trusting.  Melting.

He lost himself in that kiss. Lost himself for long, drugging, blood-thrumming moments as Beth Beacon came alive in his arms, a warm, rich heat seeping into him as her hand found the back of his head, her fingers lightly resting there as they shared sweet, lazy kisses, one after another after another.

He eased closer, less of a premeditated move than a desire for more.

His tongue snaked out lightly at first, testing, teasing. She pulled away slightly, but then she began to explore on her own, tentatively then more boldly.

Dipping further.

He pulled her against him then, and her hand sank deeper into his hair, as the kiss grew hotter, intensified.

Her breathing was quick and light now, her kisses like heaven, and he didn’t even know he was doing it as his hand slid down her back to cup her and hold her soft, feminine curves against him.

She went still, and he realized where his hand was.

What he’d been thinking.

He let out a shaky breath against her lips. He throbbed in ways he knew he couldn’t satisfy, and if he didn’t somehow find a way to pull himself back, he’d be giving Beth the very education he’d tried to spare her.

Still kissing her deeply, fully, earnestly, he reached up and grasped her hands in his and pulled them down to her sides. Then he cupped her face and slowly, slowly pulled away.

She moaned softly—a protest—and he bent to lay one last kiss on her still-parted, upturned lips.

Their breaths were shallow, the air thick with desire. Inexplicably, impossibly, Beth smiled.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him, and rested his index finger against her well-kissed lips. They puckered briefly, full and moist, pressing a kiss to his skin, before she stepped away, folding her hands together again as they’d been when he’d first entered.

She didn’t say another word, only stood there, her breath light, her lips forming a half, knowing smile as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
____________________

L
IZ SLUMPED INTO A tarp-draped kitchen chair, her arms already weary from working muscles seldom used. With the priming nearly complete, she could start the finish coat by dinnertime. She could be done with the kitchen and back on schedule by Monday night.

It felt good to make so much progress. And, it was fun.

Because of Carter.

Liz turned and smiled despite her fatigue. He had his back to her, his cargo shorts and T-shirt splattered with white primer, his muscles flexing in his arms as he stroked the roller over the ceiling in time to the rock music he’d insisted on blaring.

“I’ve decided to go for it!” he said over the din.

“What?” she yelled back.

“The fountain project,” he said, pausing to turn down the radio. “I’m going to bid on it.”

“I think you should.”

He nodded as he set his roller in the tray next to her brush. “You know what this means, don’t you?” He cocked a grin at her. “It means I’m finally growing up.”

“You’ve been grown up for a while.”

He helped himself to a soda. “My uncle wants me to take over the business.”

“He— Carter, that’s wonderful!”

He popped open the can, looking somewhat pensive. “This would be my first solo project.”

“From what I’ve seen you’ve been working on your own for a while.”

“I know. But, if Pops isn’t working at all, I’ll probably need an extra hand. That means hiring an employee or two, scheduling…” He ran a hand over his face and looked at her soberly. “As I said, growing up.”

“Take heart. It happens to the best of us.”

He sat down. “I just never expected it to happen to me.”

She chuckled at the lost boy look on his face and got up to get a drink as well. “I have to say, I’m feeling as proud of you as the day you came home with a B+ on that trig test. I couldn’t have been more pleased—”

“I cheated,” he said.

She whirled around.
“
You
didn’t!”

“No,” he laughed, standing up again. “But, your expression just now was priceless.”

She
harrumphed
and went back to pouring her iced tea. “Worry not. You haven’t grown up as much as you think.”

“Aw, but that’s what makes me so loveable,” he said.

She turned, intending to tell him he wasn’t all that loveable, either, but the words died on her tongue.

“Thanks,” he murmured, eyes dark, sober, as his lips hitched up at the corner endearingly. “You always did make me reach higher than I ever thought I could.”

The look on his face made her nerves hum like they had the night she’d waited for her first kiss in Jenny Whitmeyer’s pantry.

“You always did have more potential than you gave yourself credit for,” she murmured. And then he went and flashed her a bright smile, and her stomach hit the floor.

Holy. Smokes.

Liz struggled to take a breath, her blood roaring in her ears.

It couldn’t happen that quickly, could it?
It didn’t even make sense! How could she be standing here, minding her own business (thank you very much) and have a feeling like
that
rush over her?

She was far too pragmatic for it to be true. Besides, it was totally inappropriate on so many levels. She didn’t even live in Sugar Falls anymore! They had nothing in common. He was completely irreverent, and she was completely and utterly…