Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(13)
The air in Liz’s lungs seized as she momentarily wondered whether Carter could read minds as well as make women spontaneously ignite with a single eyebrow twitch. The grocery store? Good Lord. And, cooking for him? Cooking would be far more intimate than grabbing a bite at a local sandwich shop. No. Going home was a bad idea. It was dangerous. And spending time with Carter McIntyre had always been dangerous.
As dangerous as seven minutes, blindfolded, in the darkened pantry at Jenny Whitmeyer’s sixteenth birthday party and only ever knowing the first boy she’d ever kissed had silky hair, tasted like Twizzlers… and smelled like fresh air and sweet rebellion.
“Sounds like a great idea,” she said.
CHAPTER SIX
____________________
“I’M NOT AN AXE MURDERER.”
Liz stared at Carter in shock, the memory of that long ago kiss still on her lips. She clutched her purse a little tighter. “What?”
“Just in case you were worried. I haven’t turned into an axe murderer or anything over the last ten years.”
“Why would I—?”
“Because, usually women worry about that sort of thing when a guy invites himself to their house. I just wanted to reassure you. I’m not a murderer. I’m just hungry.”
“I hadn’t…” She flushed, the idea of Carter being violent the last thing on her mind.
“You just got all quiet there for a minute, and I thought you might be having second thoughts. We can pick up a sub or something if you want.”
“No. No. It’s fine. It’s good. I actually need a few things. I was just, ah, planning my list in my head.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
Liz hopped out and hurried toward the entrance, visions of Carter doing unscrupulous things dancing through her head.
The automatic doors whooshed aside, and Liz reached for a basket. She was overreacting. What harm could come from getting a few things at the store and sharing a casual meal with an old friend? That’s all this was. For all the axe murderer talk, she didn’t believe Carter McIntyre had a mean bone in his body. The man was dangerous, sure, but not in that way.
Besides, it’s not like anyone was going to dare her to sit in a dark pantry tonight waiting for some anonymous boy to give her a kiss. Those days were long behind her.
She decided who kissed her now. And when.
“Forget the basket,” Carter said, skidding to a halt beside her with an empty cart. “I’ve been working all day, and I’m starved. I’ll push. You lead.”
“Oh. All right. Let’s start with produce.” Liz pulled her purse up on her shoulder and shook her head as Carter zipped ahead down the aisle, one foot on the back of the cart like a scooter. So much for leading.
She set some lettuce into the cart and silently marveled at how surreal life was sometimes. She was grocery shopping with Carter McIntyre. How many times had she dreamed about this very thing? The minivan? The adorable toddlers? The blissfully domestic existence as if they were a modern-day version of the Leave it to Beaver re-runs she used to watch every Saturday with her dad?
To think she’d actually imagined Carter growing up and becoming half of an adult couple. The man couldn’t even push a simple grocery cart without treating it like a riding toy. If she didn’t get this over with, her inner June would probably start humming liltingly and reaching for imaginary aprons. Liz rolled her eyes and tossed a red onion into the cart.
Dum. Dum. De-dum. Dum-de-dum-de-dum-de-DUM…
“Oh, crap,” she said.
Carter turned to look at her. “Is that your cell phone?” Liz nodded. “Unusual ring tone.”
“I prefer to think of it as an early warning system.” Carter’s eyebrow did that wingy thing at her in question. “It’s my mother.”
Her purse strap jingled again.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“I can call her back.” Liz picked up a bulb of garlic and sniffed it. She looked at Carter. “What?”
“Your mother is calling.”
“I—” Oh, crap. That’s right. Carter didn’t have a mother. She’d died when he was little. Some terrible accident. Liz fought not to squirm under his gaze. She pulled out her phone. “Hi, Mom!”
She gave Carter a cheery smile and braced herself for the volume. He’d think she were a cad if she held the phone at a safe distance from her ear like she usually did.
“Elizabeth! I’m glad I caught you! How’s the weather? I hear you might be in for some rain this week! You can never trust the Weather Channel, though. They are so often wrong! Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Oh, I thought I’d lost you! You’re so quiet!”
“I’m in the grocery store, Mom.”
“Where?”
“The— nevermind. What do you need?” She glanced guiltily at Carter. “I mean, why are you calling?”
“It’s your dad! He’s worried about the patio. He doesn’t want the pavers to have grass growing out of them. You know how awful that looks! Can you make sure they use that special sand that keeps the grass from growing?”
“Special sand that keeps grass from growing? I’ve never heard—”