Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(38)

Liz sucked in a mortified breath and clenched her eyes shut. “He’s not,” she gasped.

“Nope. Sorry. My mistake. It’s the bird bath.”

She turned from the driveway as tears of humiliation burned the back of her eyes. “Please go,” she said.

“I would, but I’ve been meaning to talk with your brother for a couple weeks now. Seems as good a time as any to catch up.

“And besides, his car is blocking mine.”




HIGH AS A KITE.

Carter watched Liz’s brother more or less re-zip his fly. Who knew what John had ingested, smoked, or shot himself up with this time? Better to stick around a bit to make sure Liz didn’t need the help she’d already declined.

Carter pasted a benign grin on his face and waved. “Hey, John! Long time no see!”

John spun around slowly, a bewildered expression crossing his face as he squinted toward the front stoop.

“It’s Carter. Carter McIntyre.”

John stumbled up the path and stopped. He frowned at them. “Carter? Beth? Whaddr you doin’ here?”

Liz gaped at her brother, her nose wrinkling as he approached, then seemed to recover her composure. “I’m on vacation. Helping mom and dad clean up the house. What are you doing here?”

“Need to crash,” John mumbled, his face turning slightly green in the pale porch light. “Feeling a little... off.”

Liz’s eyes shot to Carter. “He can’t drive in this condition,” she murmured in alarm.

“He got here,” Carter muttered back. “But you’re right. Do you want me to take him home?”

John swore and they looked toward him. “Can’t go home,” he mumbled. “No more. No more…”

Liz let out a short breath. “He’ll have to stay I guess.”

Carter helped John negotiate the threshold, grateful he wouldn’t be risking his truck’s upholstery. “Where do you want him?”

“The couch? I don’t think stairs are a good idea. I’ll get some old sheets to put on it, though. Just in case.”

Carter nodded and helped John sit so he could take off his shoes. John was so far gone, he only mumbled incoherently from time to time. It was a miracle the guy had made it there in the condition he was in.

Liz returned with an armload of bedding and began to spread sheets over the sofa. She wrinkled her nose again as Carter helped John collapse onto the makeshift bed. “He positively reeks. Do you think we should take him to the hospital?”

“No. I think he’ll sleep it off.”

She nodded and allowed Carter to lead her away. She looked pale, worried. And deeply embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.” The apologies started pouring out of her as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t have to see this. Or deal with this—”

“Neither should you,” he interrupted.

She nodded then, an abrupt movement, her lips a taut line.

“You know this doesn’t reflect on you, Liz. You don’t have to explain it away.”

“I know.” She said the words, but he could see she felt she were somehow responsible for her brother’s actions. Her eyes met his. Grateful. Weary. “Thanks for helping.”

“No problem.” He shuffled from foot to foot, unwilling to leave. Unwilling to leave her looking so... lost. “Will you be all right? I can stay if you want.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He doubted she’d sleep a wink, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. “Does eight o’clock work for you? I usually start earlier, but considering—”

“Eight o’clock is fine.”

He walked to the slider, not wanting to remind either of them of the unpleasant reality lying on the living room couch and wished he could recapture the easy camaraderie they’d shared earlier. “Thanks again for dinner.”

She nodded and her fingers brushed his arm. It warmed him in ways he couldn’t explain. “Carter?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m glad you came. I had a good time tonight. Before—”

“Me, too.” He flashed her a smile and inclined his head fractionally. He wanted to kiss her. To be honest, he wanted to do much more than kiss her. And, for a moment, he almost gave in to the impulse to take that half step forward and lose himself in her full, soft mouth. Instinct told him she wouldn’t push him away.

Common sense told him they’d both regret the timing.

Swallowing his disappointment, Carter reached up to brush a strand of hair from her temple. His thumb lingered on her cheek, drawing an idle circle. He wouldn’t draw her to him, he told himself. He wouldn’t take advantage.

He gave her a half smile and dropped his hand. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she replied. Her eyes filled with some emotion he couldn’t name as she took a step back, but then her hand snaked out at the last minute to grab his arm. “Wait! You can’t leave!”

He stopped, relieved. He didn’t have to feel guilty after all. If Liz wanted it, too…

“You need to move John’s car, remember? I’ll get his keys.”

Carter bit his lip. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.”