Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(70)

She stumbled to a chair and lowered herself in, her legs like noodles. “Carter, we shouldn’t start something we can’t—”

“Liz, I’m eating pizza now, because I want to. We had sex earlier because we wanted to. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”

“Sex is always complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Carter pulled a slice of pizza from the box and took a bite. Liz’s cell phone rang. They both looked at it where it sat on the middle of the table.

“I’ll call him back,” she said.

Carter’s eyes narrowed as it rang a second time. He looked at her. “Him? Is this about your interoffice guy?”

Liz fought not to wince as she reached over to her phone and turned it off. She didn’t want to think about Grant. Not now. Maybe not ever. “Of course not.”

“Are you lovers?”

“What? No.” She jumped up and opened the refrigerator door.

“Are you in love with him?”

Tea. She’d pour tea… “There’s no point in talking about—”

“Are you?”

Liz sloshed tea into two tumblers, this close to throwing herself at Carter and taking what little he had to offer, dignity be damned.

“Why? What does that even matter?” She closed the refrigerator door. “It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t do this,” she motioned vaguely with her hand between them, “with you. I shouldn’t have the first time; but then you showed up, and you kissed me—”

“So now it’s my fault we had sex?”

“No! No.” She swiped a hand over her face. “It’s not about fault. It’s just... I don’t do impulsive, Carter. I’m a planner. A list-maker. An I-know-what-my-credit-card-statement-will-say-before-I-get-it-in-the-mail type of person.”

“So?”

“So, I need to think…”

“Christ, Liz, do I have to kiss you again? Because I will if I have to.”

“Is that your answer to everything?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Yes,” she said, half afraid he’d kiss her and half afraid he wouldn’t. “Let’s get back to painting.” Her back and shoulders would ache like the devil in the morning, but if she didn’t do something—right now—she’d no doubt blurt out something she’d regret.

He watched her in silence a few moments then finally picked up his drink. “You’re more stubborn than I remember,” he said, although his tone was slightly amused. He handed her her pizza. “Fine. I’ll start the finish coat on the cabinets. You can go eat.”

Liz glanced at the table. It was probably best if they were in separate rooms for a while. “Are you sure?”

His gaze lingered on the vee of her T-shirt a moment before he met her eyes again. “As sure as I am that if you don’t leave, we won’t get any painting done at all.”




AFTER SHE ATE, she tried to return her plate, but Carter met her at the kitchen door and announced she was banned from entering until further notice. He told her he’d be too tempted if she tried to help and wouldn’t it be nice for her to see the final unveiling? So, she settled in the living room and attempted to figure out the wiring instructions for the coach lights. But listening to Carter sing along to the radio and being alone with her thoughts did nothing to help her focus, and she soon tossed the manual aside in favor of painting over the hideous, mustard mis-tint on the front door with a couple of coats of refreshing periwinkle blue.

Around eight o’clock, Carter came out of the kitchen to announce he was between coats and was in the mood for Chinese. They got it to-go, and Liz pretended she was okay with casually eating take-out and casually touching one another and casual sex. Yet, every time he touched her, smiled at her, leaned in for one small kiss, her heart soaked it in like a drought-stricken land soaks in rain even though she knew that in seven days she’d be on a plane again… and it would all be over.

After dinner, Carter went back to the kitchen and Liz started a primer coat in the dining room. She could hear him through the door belting out the chorus to a rock ballad as he sang along to the radio, and even though she hated the song, it didn’t stop her from wondering if things had been different… if they’d somehow gotten together in high school instead of now… would they have made it as a couple? Could it have worked then?

The hours passed, and sometime after midnight, Liz decided she’d had enough. She knocked on the door to the kitchen. “I’m going to bed.”

She heard movement, and a moment later, Carter poked his head out. “Mmm. I’d love to join you, but I’m going to keep going. I won’t be much longer.” He kissed her quickly then smiled. “Keep my side warm, will you?”

She’d agreed, but he’d never come up. Liz was both relieved and disappointed.

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and rolled to her back with a sigh.

It was nearly dawn, and replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours in her mind had done nothing to help her sleep.

She’d fallen in love.

She’d slept with Carter.

She’d forgotten about Grant.

God. How could she do that? How could she forget about a man she’d envisioned herself marrying not two short weeks ago? What did that say about her?