Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(87)
“Ready for what?”
“You asked if I wanted to have sex with you,” he murmured. “The short answer is, yes. I do. Very much. And, preferably, as soon as possible.”
“You came all the way from Chicago to tell me that?”
She would have stalked away in dignified brilliance like the heroine of her own self-actualized drama, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm. “You didn’t let me finish. I’d love to make love… Just as soon as we’re properly engaged.”
She blinked. Oh, Dear God. Did he say…?
And then he was sliding his hand into his pocket and sliding out a little blue velvet box. “I’ve been waiting,” he said, “keeping you to myself, I know, not wanting to share you even with random strangers in restaurants. I’ve wanted you to want our relationship to move to the next level as much as I do. I think it’s time, don’t you?”
He opened the box, and Liz could only stare into the cool brilliance of the largest solitaire diamond she’d ever clapped eyes on. “I... I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll marry me. Say you’ll be Mrs. Beacon-Blackerby.”
“Beacon-Blackerby?” Ohmigod! How had she never thought how that would sound before now? “I— I need to think about it,” she lied.
Grant blinked, his handsome features registering a moment of surprise. “Think? What’s to think about? We’ve already discussed this. I thought—”
“I thought so, too. Now, I’m not so sure.” Liz ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. It smelled like window cleaner. “I’m sorry. You’ve surprised me, that’s all.”
“Of course.” Grant nodded and smoothed his sport coat. “I didn’t give you any warning I was coming. You’re overwhelmed. You need a few moments to take it all in.” He pressed the velvet box into her palm. “Here. Take it. Think on it. It’s a big step, I understand. You wouldn’t be the woman for me if you didn’t take the time to make sure it’s the right decision. We’ll discuss it over dinner.” He leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth.
Liz’s jaw gaped and she forgot not to swipe her lips in front of him as he walked down the front path. She found her voice as he reached his rental car. “Grant, wait!”
“I’m staying at the Sugar Falls Inn,” he replied, opening the driver’s door. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
Liz watched in dismay and disbelief as he pulled away. She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d suggested they move to Tajikistan and drink yak’s milk. Engaged? He wanted to get engaged?
She glanced down at the velvet box and turned its cool, silky weight in her palm. Her fingers flexed around it. She didn’t dare open it again. The brilliant solitaire only mocked the future she’d once thought she wanted.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
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CARTER GRINNED AT THE goodies on the seat beside him and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. He’d had all of fifteen minutes to shower, shave and get dressed after his last job, but the flurry of activity had only fueled the buzz of energy he’d been riding all afternoon.
Sure he’d made mistakes. He’d never been perfect, but he only saw good things ahead with Liz. For once, he—impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, Carter McIntyre—had a plan. He would surprise Liz with endearing gifts, delight her with romantic dinners and outings then win her over by helping her achieve every item on her “Liz Never” list. His hand fisted over the deck of cards on the seat beside him.
If all went well, by tonight they’d be crossing off number three with their own private game of strip poker.
Carter pulled into Liz’s drive shortly after six-thirty. Imagine him, Carter, early! After a few moments with no answer at the front door, he walked to the back slider, whistling. He knocked, a light-hearted staccato beat to match his mood.
No answer.
Perhaps she was in the shower? He tried the door. Locked. Maybe she’d gone into town with Trish or Bailey on a quick errand. Hmm. Maybe she’d decided to spring for some new lacy underthings? Heck, he grinned to himself, a man could dream.
He shrugged and decided it was fine Liz was out. It would give him time to plant something fun and whimsical in her front yard. Like the giant fake sunflowers he’d gotten at the lawn center earlier. She wouldn’t mind. He’d fill in the holes when he was done.
He retrieved the fake flowers from the bed of his truck and laughed. For a landscaper, you’d think he’d at least have the sense to bring a shovel.
Chuckling over his own scattered wits, Carter headed to the side shed. He knew Liz had been keeping it locked, but it was his lucky day, because the door was ajar when he got there. He pushed it open and scanned the jumble of tools and debris slumping lazily against the walls and floor for a shovel.
Shed clean-up had obviously not been tops on Liz’s to-do list.
Spying what looked like a shovel handle in a far corner, Carter pushed aside a half-used bag of fertilizer with his foot then muttered in annoyance as it upended.
He stooped to pick it up and paused as he noticed plastic-wrapped packages of something on the floor under a tarp. He pulled the tarp aside… and swore harshly under his breath.
What the hell?
The idiot. Some people never learned.