Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(77)

Carter turned toward his sister doubtfully.

“Hey, I appreciate the breakfast and all,” Grace began, “but I’m not the bookkeeping type.”

“It’s not just that,” Kate said. “There is supplies ordering that needs to be done. It’s actually very interesting. And you don’t need to worry. I’ve got it all organized...”

Carter scraped his chair back and downed the last of his coffee. “You know, I appreciate your wanting to make things all neat and tidy, Kate, but I think I can work it out on my own if it’s all the same to you.”

“But with your uncle and his back issues, I know how much more work is falling on your—”

“It’s okay. I know office work—it’s not Grace’s thing either. And you guys, you have your own stuff you need to focus on. Like you said. You’ve got everything organized now. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine.”




CARTER RAN A HAND through his hair and frowned at the computer screen.

“I am so screwed.”

He didn’t do well with computers, particularly computers with accounts receivable programs that didn’t function the way they were supposed to function. Or print when they were supposed to print.

Oh, the hell with it. He’d hand write the damn bill. Who cared that Mrs. Marston was notoriously anal about wanting every single paver itemized? She’d have to deal with it. He didn’t have time to trouble-shoot the program; he needed to get paid.

As he shuffled through the desk drawer for an invoice pad, his hand bumped into the manila envelope addressed to the Beautification League. He stilled.

What a waste of time. There was no way, with Kate bailing on him that he’d take on anything like that now. He’d need a tender to help if he was going to do the fountain project, especially in the short timeframe they’d set out for it, and he wouldn’t have time to hire anyone now that he’d be putting extra hours into admin tasks. Good thing he hadn’t already submitted it.

He was stuffing the proposal back in the drawer and pulling out the invoice pad when the phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Carter? It’s John. John Beacon.”

Carter wondered momentarily if he should pretend the connection was bad then regretted the thought. It was Liz’s brother after all.

He stood and walked toward the kitchen for more coffee. “Hey, John. What’s up?”

“Listen, I need a place to crash, and I was wondering...”

John paused and Carter glanced around his disordered condo. Newspapers littered the coffee table. Dishes sat in the sink. Yesterday’s workout clothes hung over the back of the sofa. “Jeez. I wish I could help you. What about your folks place?”

“I don’t want to get in Liz’s way. All I need is a sofa. Just for a few days.”

Carter picked up the dirty clothes in his fist. “All right. Sure. A few days.”

“Thanks.”

The obvious gratitude in John’s voice made Carter feel like a jerk for having tried to beg off.

“Hey, I’m in Concord for the day, but I’ll see you tonight. Will you be home around eight?”

“Yeah. I should be here,” Carter said.

“Just a few days. It’s all I need.”

“You bet.”

Carter hung up. There’d been a time he would have readily offered to have John stay. He must be getting old, because he didn’t feel like drinking beer all night and waking exhausted and hung-over. He didn’t want to deal with wondering if John would end up staying one night. Two. Or three weeks.

Good God, when had he grown up?





CHAPTER FORTY

____________________

LIZ SCRUBBED THE SHOWER stall with a cloud of abrasive cleaner. It was time to go back to being an adult. An adult who’d made mistakes, for sure. But, especially, an adult who’d, in the interest of playing it safe, shied away from having the tough discussions that might cause conflict.

When had she become so afraid of making waves?

And, where had that reticence gotten her? Almost engaged? Carter was right to scoff! She felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Did Grant even want a commitment from her? Ever? Had she been deluding herself into believing that, too?

Taking a deep breath, she decided to find out. She wiped her hands on her sweats, pick up her cell phone and dialed.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Liz froze, wondering if Grant thought she were someone else then forced herself to relax, realizing he must recognize her number from caller-ID. “Hi, Grant. I’m sorry to call you at work, but...” She paused and worried her lip. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe she should wait until they were face to face. Maybe...

“What’s up? Did you have changes you wanted to make to the Eaton presentation?”

“No. No, the presentation is fine. It’s just... there’s something I wanted to ask you. Something I need to talk to you about.”

“I’d love to talk, but I’m right about to pop into a—”

“Do you just want to have sex?” she blurted. “With me, that is?”

There was a moment’s pause, a nervous burst of laughter. “Do I what?”