Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(90)

“It’s fine, but I’m sure you’ll want something fancy. Let’s go have a look. Love to stay and chat, guys, but duty calls.” Carter steered Liz toward the house.

“What the—?” She frowned as Carter shoved her through the door and into the house. He shut the door abruptly behind her then peeked through the transom.

“Would you mind telling me what’s going on? Who’s that other—? Oh, isn’t this beautiful!”

Carter turned to see her holding the little glass bird he’d meant to surprise her with later. Its cool, clear green reminded him of a new spring leaf. Made him think of Liz. “I thought it’d look nice on your windowsill. It would remind you of home. I mean, here, when you’re in Chicago.”

Her eyes were bright as she smiled at him. “That’s so sweet of you.”

He shrugged. “I meant it for later. After.”

“You mean there’s more?”

He nodded, noting with relief that John and Rick were no longer standing out front. Hopefully they had the good sense to take their business elsewhere. “Yeah, there’s more. Now go get changed. You can wear that purple number you wore to the reunion.”

Her eyebrows lifted uncertainly even as her hand clutched the newel post. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? The evening can’t turn out any worse than the reunion, can it? We’ll make new, better memories in it.”

She grinned and hurried up the stairs.

Carter looked out the transom window again then swore to himself. Their cars were still in the driveway. Which meant they were probably in the shed. Would they notice the tarp had been disturbed? He hadn’t taken care to replace it, had simply left it as it had fallen not wanting to touch it again.

Damn.

“Where are we going for dinner?” Liz called from upstairs.

“It’s a surprise!” he hedged as he watched yet another vehicle enter the drive. “No need to hurry, though. We’ve got time if you need to fix your hair... or makeup...”

What the heck?

“Hey, Liz, I’ve got to get something from the car. I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Okay, but when you get back, I’ll need you to zip me!”

Carter blew out a quick breath of relief. Good. That would keep her upstairs—and out of the way for a few more minutes while he got rid of John and Rick. And, whomever had just arrived and parked on the road. What the hell was going on?

“Bailey?” Carter said, intercepting her on the front stoop. “What are— Is that Trish and the kids?”

“Probably,” Bailey replied. “So, what’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!”

“Didn’t Liz’s mom call you, too?”

“No.”

“Huh. I got a message to be here promptly at 6:45 for some big surprise.”

“I’m skyping now, Mom, can’t you see?” Trish bustled up the walkway, the twins fake-tripping each other, the baby swinging from her seat in the crook of Trish’s arm and her tablet held out in front of her.

“Oh, this is amazing!” Liz’s mom yelled from the tablet screen. “Hello, Carter! I’m a mobile hotspot!”

Carter waved at the tablet. “Hi, Mrs. Beacon.”

“Is everyone here? I mean there?” Mrs. Beacon asked, craning her neck, as if she’d get a better view from her sofa in Florida.

Trish looked around. “Not quite, but we’re a couple minutes early.”

“Early for what?” Carter asked again.

“The big surprise!” Mrs. Beacon yelled. “Shh!” she said, putting a finger to her lips. “Trish! Put me somewhere I can see the apple tree! I don’t want to miss a thing!”

“I can do it,” Ben said. The boy stood at Trish’s elbow and reached for the tablet.

Carter couldn’t believe the transformation in the kid. For one, he was standing relatively still.

“Okay, but be careful! No running!” Trish said automatically, but Ben was already walking, albeit quickly, toward the side yard where the apple tree was.

“Is that the same kid?” Carter asked.

Trish set the baby down and rolled her shoulders as more cars entered the drive. “Yes, I’m happy to say. Hey, Aunt Claire!”

Carter’s gut roiled as yet another unwanted guest arrived. Pretty soon… yup. There was Jeff Dayton, and Ted Seamans, the Fire Marshall, and… who the heck was that guy?

A slick-looking metro-dude stepped out of the same sedan Carter had seen dropping Liz off twenty minutes ago. The guy ran a hand through his product-enhanced hair and glanced around at all the cars. He looked nervous as he wove his way toward them.

“Excuse me,” he said, approaching the cluster of people on the front walk. “Does anyone know how I might get in touch with Mrs. Beacon? Liz’s mother?”

“And you are…?” Bailey asked.

“Grant Blackerby.”

The interoffice-guy?

“Grant!” Liz said from behind Carter. She stood at the front door, gawking, the back of her dress flapping in the breeze. “What—? What is everyone doing here?”

“Liz, I’m sorry,” Grant said, peering around her relatives. “I—”