Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(37)

“Maybe you should concentrate on the game instead of trying to stir up gossip.”

“You’re not playing fair. You plied me with good food, liquored me up and now you’re distracting me while I’m planning my next move.”

“The wine is technically your fault, and I’m just sitting here.”

He glanced up, his eyes sliding warmly over her face, pausing a moment at the base of her neck, leaving a trail of awareness wherever they lingered. “Like I said. Distracting.”

Liz bit her lip and studied the board. No man should be blessed with lashes that thick and dark. She captured his other knight. Smiled. “I really do enjoy chess, though. Thanks for suggesting it.”

“Of course you enjoy it. You’re winning.”

“As I recall, we used to be pretty evenly matched. That is, when you were paying attention.”

“I’m paying attention.” He took one of her pawns and picked up her wine tumbler. Took a sip.

“I thought you were done for the night,” she commented, oddly excited by the small intimacy of having him drink from her glass.

“Not even close,” he smiled.

She took his second rook.

“Ouch,” he winced. “You’re ruthless tonight.”

“Not ruthless. Focused.”

“I’ve always had a hard time with that.” He leaned forward and captured her queen. “But sometimes I can pull it together. Checkmate, by the way.”

“What?” Liz studied the board a moment then threw her hands up in defeat. “I can’t believe it! You’ve got me!”

“Ah,” he sighed. “Could you say that again? I so love hearing those words.”

She threw him a glance as she cleared the board. “Please. Don’t tell me you’re still a gloater.”

“A gloater? Would you deny me the pleasure of my victory? Tsk. Tsk. Don’t tell me you’re still a poor sport.”

“I was never a poor sport. I just enjoy winning more than losing.”

He grinned and finished her wine. “So do I.”

The air in the room sparked with awareness as Carter held her gaze. She didn’t think they were talking about chess anymore, but it was hard to tell. He had a perpetual air of casual indifference which made it nearly impossible to tell whether he was serious.

She set the chess set on the shelf and smoothed her shirt.

“Well. It’s getting late. I should probably go,” he said, rising from the table. “Thanks for dinner. It was terrific.”

“You’re welcome. Did you want any cookies? For the road, I mean?”

“You have to ask?”

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Liz hurried to the kitchen, pulled a plastic bag from the drawer and filled it with cookies.

“You spoil me.”

Liz jumped as Carter reached from behind her to take the bag of cookies. Good heavens, the man moved like a cat.

She smoothed her hair and darted a glance at the kitchen clock. 9:53? How did it get so late? “When will I see you again? I mean, when do you expect to start on the patio?”

Carter swallowed a bite of cookie he’d snitched from the bag. “Weather allowing, tomorrow work for you?”

“To—” The ring of her cell phone interrupted. Liz jumped and pulled her phone from her pocket. She set it face down on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you need to get that?”

“No. It’ll go to voicemail. I can call back. So, tom—?” Again, the phone rang.

“Go ahead and pick up. I know my way out.”

Liz nodded and picked up the phone. She followed Carter to the living room. The front door clicked shut as she answered the call. “Grant! You’re back! Hi… Sorry. I was just... away from the phone for a moment.”

“I thought I might have had the wrong number. So, did you get the e-mail I sent you on N.S. Utilities?”

“Not yet. I haven’t checked e-mail since this morning. I thought you—”

“Liz?” Liz spun around to find the front door open again, Carter poking his head around the jamb. “Thought you might want to know your brother’s here.”

“My—?” She turned back to the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back. John’s just arrived.”

“Is that who I heard in the background?” Grant asked.

“No. That was... yes! Right. My brother. I really should go. I’ll call you later?”

“Check your e-mail, Liz. I need your input before the meeting tomorrow.”

“I’ll check it before I go to bed. Promise.”

Liz hung up and walked to the door.

“Your folks?” Carter asked.

“Business call.”

Carter’s eyes met hers. “Kind of late for business.”

Liz ignored the comment as she watched her brother negotiate the steps at the end of the walk. She paled. John was clearly intoxicated or... something.

“Thanks for coming,” she said too brightly, hoping Carter would take the hint and leave. Like now.

Instead, he leaned closer, the warm brush of his body making her jump. “Do you need help?” he asked.

“Why would I need help?”

“For one, I think your brother’s pissing on the mailbox.”