Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(73)

She smiled. “I’m glad he liked it. I’m sorry you felt awkward about it.”

Silence.

“Liz? I…” Grant lowered his voice. “I know I said we should take a siesta… to give you time to think about us, but I have to admit… I miss you.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he chuckled again, warmer this time, “of course I do.”

“But, I thought… I thought you were trying to tell me you needed a break. I thought that’s what ‘siesta’ meant.”

“A break? No! Is that why you’ve—?” He half-laughed then sighed. “No.” She could hear him moving around, the click of a door. He was probably at work. He was nearly whispering now. “I didn’t want a break, Liz, I thought you did! Even though we talked about it, planned for it, it seemed like you weren’t really ready to move things forward, if you know what I mean.” He sighed again. “And when we never talked about what happened that night… or didn’t happen…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”

He let out another sigh. “Maybe I’m just being a guy, but if you’re not into me enough to want sex this far into a relationship, I’ve got to wonder if you’re having second thoughts. Hell, maybe you were never into me…”

“Of course I was into you! I spent days planning for that night!”

Liz blew out a breath. That probably wasn’t a tack she wanted to take right now, considering. “I’m sorry. I am. I know that night was a disaster. Sometimes… sometimes I work so hard to make things perfect, I forget to live in the moment.

“But, that’s changing,” she said. “I’m changing. Coming home has forced me to lower my expectations.” She thought of how that might sound. “Of myself! I meant of myself.”

“It’s okay. I got it.” He paused. “So, where do we go from here?”

Liz couldn’t answer. She thought about what she’d been doing over the last couple of weeks and how this man had been nothing but understanding, supportive and good to her. He truly was the man she should have chosen, and yet she’d gone and fallen for the heartbreaker who would only make her cry in the end.

Hadn’t she known that twelve years ago?

“You deserve better than what I’ve given you,” she finally said.

“I’ll accept your best efforts at improving that in the future,” he chuckled awkwardly. Paused. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” God, did all men have dorky senses of humor? “But, to be honest, I don’t know what the future holds. Coming home has been very emotional for me. I don’t think I can explain it over the phone. I still need to process it all.” Plus, there’s the little matter of being in love with someone else.

“Sure. I understand. I’m glad you’re working through it. It seemed we hit a plateau a few weeks back, and it threw me off. I thought we were on a good course.”

He blew out a breath and continued. “I know working together has made things complicated, but, I promise, that’s going to change. I don’t want to go into it over the phone, but I want you to know, I want to move forward with you, Liz. I think I’ve been patient enough. Don’t you agree?”

Liz teared up at the hopeful tone in his voice. Now this was a good man. This was a man who understood that major life decisions require careful consideration, balancing of pros and cons. You can’t just leap without looking. People have to make compromises and adjustments. This was a man who wanted to talk about their future!

“I’d love to—”

“Great!”

She’d been about to say, but I don’t know if I can, but the relief in his voice stopped her.

“We’ll talk when you get home?” he said.

“Yeah. We’ll talk,” the cowardly part of her agreed.

“Great. Take good care of yourself, Liz.”

“You, too.”

She hung up, her hand shaking.

Lovely. She couldn’t wait to get back to Chicago to tell the man who’d waited months to make love to her that she’d jumped into bed with another guy after mere days. He probably wouldn’t be so eager to take things to the next level with her then.

In the meantime, he still thought they were nearly engaged.

Which meant, until she talked to him and set him straight, she was, too.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

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“I HAVE SERIOUSLY underestimated you.” Trish ran an admiring hand across a cabinet door as she pulled down a coffee mug. “These are gorgeous!”

Liz looked at the cabinets wistfully. They were bright, beautiful and brought a calming cheer to a cool, cloudy Tuesday afternoon. Exactly as she’d always pictured them. She bit her lip. “I’m having them repainted as soon as Carter’s done with the walkway,” she said, hoping he was well out of earshot.

Carter had been hard at work for nearly two days straight on the walkways. He and Liz had only shared casual pleasantries, dancing around one another, not talking about the monumental shift in their relationship, as if the elephant in the corner of the room were a natural part of the décor.

Trish whirled, coffee slurping from the pot. “Repainted? Why?”