Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(98)
“But more than anything,” he continued, his voice hoarse with emotion, “love is knowing yourself enough to recognize when another person knows, appreciates and accepts the real you…”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”
He let her go abruptly and stepped away. “But this isn’t love,” he said, gesturing to the space between them.
She felt as if she’d been thrown to the ground. Again.
“I know who I am,” he said. “But who’s the real Liz Beacon? Or should I say, Beth? Do you even know? Because I sure as hell don’t.”
He shut his eyes and sucked in a long breath, his fingers flexing in his pocket.
“By the way,” he said, “I bought you these.”
Then he threw a package of Twizzlers at her feet. And left.
CHAPTER FIFTY
____________________
“EW. THEY WERE RIGHT. It does look worse the next morning.” Bailey lifted her chocolate chip cookie in salute as Liz pushed open the kitchen door.
Liz had taken off the bulky eye patch and left it upstairs, although she still had a couple of butterfly bandages over the gash in her eyebrow. She touched her cheek gingerly.
In the end, she hadn’t been able to face anyone after Carter walked out. Thankfully, Bailey had whisked her away from prying eyes, probing questions and would-be fiancés, threatening anyone who might challenge the plan with a thwack of a Snickers bar. She’d taken Liz home, cleaned her up, fed her take-out Chinese, and crashed on the couch without another word except to come in every hour on the hour and ask her how many fingers she was holding up.
Liz had lain alone in her room, staring blindly at the ceiling. Thinking.
It had been Carter. It had been Carter all along. Valerie said the bottle picked Dan, but Liz knew it was Carter in the pantry that night. She knew it. Just as she knew he wasn’t involved in any illegal drug use.
She knew, because she didn’t need proof to know what was in her heart.
She loved him.
And, he, by some miracle, loved her.
Or did.
Bailey gestured toward Liz’s face, pulling her out of her thoughts. “So, how does it feel?”
“How does it look?”
“Awful.”
“That’s how it feels.” Liz pulled a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. She didn’t bother with cream or sugar.
“Can I get you anything?” Bailey asked.
“Have you learned to cook?”
“No.”
“Then toast will be fine.”
“Do you like it burnt or raw?”
“Burnt, please.”
Bailey set to work slicing bread and popping it in the toaster oven then proceeded to ignore it as she went in search of supplies in the fridge.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
Bailey met Liz’s gaze over the fridge door. “You better get used to it. She’s going to be your sister-in-law.”
Liz groaned into her coffee. “How did life get so messed up?”
“I’m letting myself in!” Valerie announced from the front door. Her heels clicked on the floors as she made her way to the kitchen. She thumped the door open, a bright pink cast on her left arm. “I have news!”
“What happened to you?” Liz asked. “I thought you just needed stitches!”
“Oh,” Val pursed her lips at her cast and shrugged, “apparently they think I fractured something, too. But, enough about that, I have news!”
“You’ve cast an evil spell on Liz’s brother?”
Valerie sniffed. “Your toast is burning.”
“Done!” Bailey pulled the smoking slices out and slathered them with butter.
“No,” Val said, to Bailey’s earlier question. She pulled some papers out of her purse. “As of fifteen minutes ago, I have a signed Purchase & Sale agreement on this house!”
“Already?” Liz asked, pulling the document forward.
“Eh!” Val snatched it back again. “You can’t see it. Confidential and all that. But your folks are thrilled. It’s just barely over their target price, but I can’t promise holding out for more will pan out. They are pleased as punch with their new future daughter-in-law.”
Valerie tucked the contract back into her purse. “Well, can’t stay. Have an engagement ring to show off and houses to sell, so ta-ta!”
“Sold.” Liz said dully as she took a bite of burnt toast. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
“What are you going to do now?” asked Bailey.
Resolutely ignoring the hollow ache in her chest, she shrugged. “Go home.”
LIZ PACKED HER SUITCASE, zipped it shut and set it by the bedroom door. With the house under contract, she was done with what she’d come to do.
“Ready when you are, Eddie.”
Eddie sat on the windowsill and stared at her. It had become his favorite spot.
“You’ll have to find a new favorite spot, Ed. Because, we’re going home.”
And, home wasn’t here anymore.
Half an hour later, Trish was driving her to the airport.
“I need to make a stop before we leave town,” Liz said. “Take a right here.”