Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(12)

Carter pushed away from his truck as she approached, his cell phone to his ear. “Sorry, I can’t make it tonight,” he said into the phone. “My last job is running late… No. I’ll grab something…. I know you don’t want me to miss it… I’ll do my best… Yeah… All right. See you then.” He hunched away a little. “Love you, too,” he murmured, then he slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Liz. “Ready?”

Och! Liz tried not to stare at the pocket of his jeans where she could just make out the outline of his phone. His poor girlfriend! She was probably nice, too. Carter always dated nice girls you wished you could hate except they volunteered at the food pantry or humane society and had alcoholic fathers or siblings with Down Syndrome so you felt sorry for them and envious all at the same time. No doubt his girlfriend du jour thought she could reform the reckless, bad boy in him and would only blame herself when she failed miserably.

Thank goodness she had solid, dependable Grant waiting for her at home.

“Ready.” She stepped toward the truck and tugged the door handle.

She tugged again.

Carter stepped forward and gripped the handle over her hand, pulling hard, his fingers warm and firm atop hers. The door lurched open. “Sorry,” he said. “Sticks sometimes.” He gestured toward the seat. “Just, ah, shove that out of your way.”

Liz stared, aghast at the mess on the seat and the floor, but Carter was already halfway around the truck. Lovely. The man clearly lived on caffeine and sugar. Using the side of her purse to shovel loose papers, candy wrappers and what-not toward the center console, she tried not to touch anything with her bare hands. She brushed the seat lightly with a paper napkin she’d found, decided it would be rude to lay it out on the seat as a protective liner, and hoisted herself into the cab. A Mountain Dew can burbled its last dregs onto her shoe.

Carter threw the dirty note pad from his back pocket onto the seat next to a half dozen others and stuck the key in the ignition. He followed her gaze as she stared down at the empty soda cans, coffee cups and—was that a beer bottle?—on the floor. “Sorry. Keep meaning to clear that out.”

“Mmm,” she said noncommittally, praying her skirt would come clean after sitting on his seats. Lord only knew what was on them. She set her purse on her lap and gripped it primly. His girlfriend must have tiny feet. Or, if she were smart, her own car.

Liz threaded the strap of her purse through her fingers as they pulled out of the driveway. She swallowed and glanced as his profile. “So. I didn’t realize you were working for your uncle now.”

“Yeah. Have been for a while.”

“That must be… nice.” She nudged a coffee cup that kept falling on her foot, the silence stretching out between them. If he couldn’t even keep his own car clean, did she want this guy working on the house? She’d eat first then tell him she wouldn’t be needing his help.

She should probably pay for her own meal, though. After all, she wasn’t rude.

Carter slowed at a traffic light. “You in Sugar Falls for long?”

“Only a week or two. My parents are moving to Florida full time. They asked me to take care of some improvements to get the house here ready to put on the market.”

“Selling, huh? How much do they want for it?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken with the realtor yet.”

“Much land?”

“Six and a half acres.”

“It’s a nice spot out here.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

The conversation petered out and he looked at her, his green eyes dark, like deep, secret pools you could happily dive into and not care if you ever resurfaced for air.

Not that she was thinking that or anything.

Liz shifted in her seat. She should ask him to stop at the store. Then she could pick up a few basics. Mixed greens. Boneless chicken. Some brown rice.

Cat food. She couldn’t forget cat food. The stuff Trish left was mostly fillers. Eddie had a very sensitive tummy. Cat food and then she’d tell him he wasn’t hired.

“Is that why you’ve never been back?” Carter asked.

“What? I’ve been back.”

“Not much. After high school, you pretty much disappeared.”

“California’s a long way from home, and I interned most summers. Anyway, I’m sure nobody missed me around here.”

He winked. “Maybe I missed you.”

“Please,” she scoffed, though his words and the flash of a dimple in his cheek had her heart slamming in her breast and her woman bits perking to attention. She made a pretense of restacking the papers on his center console.

Broccoli. She should definitely pick up broccoli…

“I did! I missed those roast beef sandwiches you made that time we studied for trig at your house. Remember that?”

Remember? She’d made a shrine to that day in her journal. Carter McIntyre ate in my kitchen!!

“God, they were amazing! Beef, bacon, onion, swiss cheese and that sauce you whipped up...”

“Horseradish mayo,” she said.

“It had a kick to it,” he grinned again.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Yeah, well, food is important to guys. We never forget a good meal.” Liz grabbed the dash as Carter turned a hard left. “You know what? Forget going out. We’ll do one better. We’ll make your famous roast beef sandwiches. Now that I’ve mentioned them, I’ve got a real craving for them.” He turned into the grocery store parking lot and swung into a space. “What do you think?”