Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(43)

She groaned. Despite falling into bed some time after midnight, she had work to do. Sliding out of bed, she did a few stretches to get the kinks out of her lower back then padded to the window.

She slid the curtain aside. Carter was in the driveway lifting supplies off the tailgate of his pickup, the muscles in his lightly tanned forearms flexing with the effort. Her skin tingled, as a warm flood of purely feminine appreciation washed over her.

She frowned.

She shouldn’t be noticing his forearms. Or tan. Or musculature of any kind.

She let the curtain drop back into place and headed toward the bathroom. She should be showering and getting on with the business at hand. Like checking her e-mail for the morning. And making sure Grant didn’t need any clarification on the spreadsheet she’d sent before falling into bed the night before.

She had no business checking out Carter like he was the pool boy. It was unseemly. Unprofessional. Un—

A loud thunk from outside had her rushing back to the window. A heavy looking machine was on the ground beside a trailer. Carter was frowning and swearing at the machine, or so it appeared, and rubbing his shin. She must have made some noise of alarm, because he glanced up and caught her eye.

He waved hello.

Liz waved back automatically then leapt from the window with a groan. Perfect. She’d just waved good morning to the guy she wasn’t supposed to be having inappropriate thoughts about—wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties!

She let out a quick breath and told herself she was being ridiculous. He probably hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t wearing pants. She would just put on some sweats, finger-comb her hair and go get her coffee like every other morning. No need to worry about her appearance. Carter was here to work, not socialize.

Liz had her hand on the bedroom doorknob then turned toward the bathroom.

It couldn’t hurt to brush teeth. Brushing teeth was simply good hygiene.

It had nothing to do with the last dream she had before waking up—a dream of kissing a sexy, dark-haired man in the rain.




“HELL-O,” CARTER MURMURED under his breath as he straightened again, the bruise on his shin forgotten. “And good morning to you, too.”

An appreciative smile creased his face as he maneuvered the compactor to the side of the driveway and began loading hand tools into his wheelbarrow. A sight like that could bring more cheer to a man’s morning than a cup of coffee and a sunny day combined.

Carter pushed the wheelbarrow to the backyard and plugged an old radio into the outdoor socket. He waved to Liz through the slider as she got her morning coffee and counted himself a lucky man. He’d be doing this job alone.

Normally, he’d bemoan the lack of a second pair of hands. Certainly having help would have prevented the bruise to his shin from the compactor as it slid off the side of the trailer’s ramp, but a bruise was a small price to pay to spend an extra day or so on the job. Not that Pops would have been much help unloading the compactor anyway.

Carter turned as Liz opened the patio door.

“Did you want some coffee before you get started? You can drink it in the sunshine.”

Carter held up the travel mug he’d filled at home.

Her smile faded. “I guess you’re all set.”

“Can I take a rain check?”

“Of course. There’s water in the fridge. You know where the coffee pot is. Help yourself. Whenever. Just don’t let Eddie out.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Well, if you need anything, let me know.”

He felt a gut punch of desire as her teeth worried her lower lip. His mind worked in overdrive to think of a reason to keep her there. She looked sexy as hell, like she’d just rolled out of bed. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I could use a hand with screeding later. Pops is at the chiropractor’s again.”

She gave a half smile. “That presumes I know what ‘screeding’ means.”

“Leveling the sand with a straight edge before I start laying the pavers.”

“Oh. Sure. I’d be happy to help. Sorry about your uncle. Is it serious?”

He shrugged. “An old back injury, it’s just been acting up lately. He had it operated on back when I was in college, but it got infected. Pretty nasty.”

“My God, that’s awful! And, when you’re self-employed, there’s no workman’s comp to fall back on.”

He nodded, impressed she understood. “I did what I could to keep things going until he was back on his feet.”

“But you were in college. How did you—?”

“I quit. Heck, probably wouldn’t have made it through anyway, right?” He flashed a grin and took a long slug of coffee, ignoring the sympathetic, curious expression on her face. “Well, back to work. I’ll let you know when I need that extra hand.” Unfortunately, she wasn’t done.

“Why didn’t you go back to college? When your uncle was better?”

“What was the point?”

“But, I thought you were getting your business degree. Certainly it made sense—”

He laughed without humor. “No need when I’m working off my back.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got so much potential. Your business, I mean.”

“I’ve got plenty of work. No degree needed.” He walked over to retrieve a roll of mason’s line that had rolled under his wheelbarrow.