Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(48)

“Sorry about the wheels,” Carter apologized as he strolled toward her up the front walk. “The bracket holding the exhaust pipe on my truck rusted through. It was too hot to wire it up right away, so it’s a good thing it’s warm tonight. You ready?”

Liz stared, mouth agape at the motorcycle that stood in the driveway. “You expect me to ride that?”

“I know it’s not ideal, but consider it an adventure. If you’d driven here instead of flying, we could’ve taken your car.”

“If you’d called me, I would have borrowed my sister’s, but it’s too late for that now.”

“It is? Don’t tell me...” Carter peered at her watch and winced. “Ooh. That late, huh? I’ve smashed so many watches by accident over the years I just don’t wear them anymore. Well, I guess we’d better head out.”

“I’m in a dress, Carter!”

He whistled appreciatively. “And a very nice one, too. Thank goodness it’s short enough to get on the bike.”

“I don’t even have a helmet!”

“You can wear mine. I hope it doesn’t mess up your hair, which, by the way, looks fantastic.”

“Thank you.” Liz stared at the bike nervously. Carter waited. She let out a short breath. “I’ll get my purse.”

He followed her into the living room and lingered while Liz collected her purse and the thin black cardigan she’d decided she might need despite the unseasonably warm evening.

“Ah! Looking at the old yearbook were you?”

Liz blanched and tried to snatch the book before Carter could get to it.

Damn, the man was fast.

“Let me guess,” he teased, pinning her with his eyes. “You were mooning over this page because you had a crush on a certain someone in high school?”

“Give me the book.” Oh God, was she that easy to read?

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Just give me the book, Carter.”

“Who was it? Can’t be Bill Nelson. I can’t see you going for the whole Goth look. And Chip Otterman was into Jenny even then. Hmm…” He grinned devilishly, his finger scanning over the photos, but then he stopped and pressed his lips together. “Of course.”

Liz paled and tried to snatch the book again, but Carter pulled it away. Ack! Would the humiliation of high school never end?

“It was Dan O’Connell wasn’t it? Mr. All-Star everything? Heir to the inglorious O’Connell auto dealerships?” Carter tossed the yearbook onto the coffee table and shook his head. “Why wouldn’t you have a crush on him?”

Liz grasped the book from the table and held it to her chest. “I think every girl in school had a crush on Dan at one point or another.”

“Including you,” he said. He cleared his throat and walked to the door as if impatient to leave now that he realized how late they were. “Ready?”

Liz looked down at the open book in her hands. She hadn’t been looking at Dan O’Connell at all. She’d been staring at the unusually sober-faced photograph of Carter McIntyre and the scrawled inscription beside it.

To Beth ‘Beautiful Brain’ Beacon, Shine on! Carter

Beth closed the book and set it on the table again. She really was an idiot.




HE WAS AN IDIOT.

Carter strode toward his bike, scowling at the ground as he walked. To think he’d actually been looking forward to taking Beth, no Liz, to the dance tonight—and here she was hoping to catch up with Dan-the-Jerk-Jock-O’Connell? And in the outfit she had on, who would blame Dan for taking a second look?

If the gods were smiling on him, Dan would be suffering from some horribly ironic fate, like bankruptcy or irritable bowel syndrome. But, Carter knew better. He’d run into Dan just last week at the gas station. Dan had been driving a brand new BMW and bragging about the unbelievable returns on his investment portfolio.

Carter flung his leg over the seat of his old bike and slid forward, handing Liz the helmet. If she had her eye on Dan, there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. Carter McIntyre wasn’t anyone’s first choice unless you were looking to rebel against your parents. And they were long past that phase.

“You know I once dated a trauma surgeon that called these nothing more than brain buckets,” Liz said, sliding the helmet carefully over her hair.

“Fun guy.”

Carter closed his eyes as Liz slid behind him and adjusted her skirt, tucking the folds of it under her thighs. Lord, why did he have visions about those legs wrapping around him?

“Where do you want my feet?”

Her words skittered across his cheek, and he licked his lips as he caught a whiff of something sexy and exotic float by him on the warm spring air. He glanced down at her feet, clad in sleek, strappy high-heeled sandals. “Right on those,” he pointed and nodded as her feet found their perches. The legs fantasy would not go away.

“What do I do?” she wanted to know as he started the engine.

“Just hang on.”

He felt her nod again and set the bike it motion, rolling toward the end of the drive.

“Ack!”

Carter braked hard and reached behind him to catch Liz before she headed to the pavement. “I said hang on!”

“To what?” she cried. “There isn’t anything to hang on to!”