Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2) (35 page)

“I didn’t bring any pictures,” Lydia said. “I want to talk about Liz and Carter.”

“Me, too,” said June.

“Me, too,” said Ruth.

Claire sighed. “Fine. But if we’re going to meddle, we need to do it right. We need to plan ahead. Lydia, bring me my calendar from the fridge. Now, if I invite them all to my birthday next month, that will bring them together again in a few weeks. And, Ruth, if you hold your annual Fourth of July barbecue, I can be sure to get Liz back from Chicago. I can always pretend they overlooked something with my heart and she needs to come home while she still can…”

All three of them looked at Claire, aghast.

“What? I could have been dying today! I’m not waiting around for things to work out on their own. Who’s with me?”

Lydia picked up another cherry tomato. “I suppose I did see an adorable vintage teddy come into
Second Chances
yesterday. If you can get Liz to the shop, I’ll point it out to her…”

“Now, we’re talking,” Claire said. She looked up at June and Ruth expectantly. “Any ideas?”

“Short of locking them in a room together, I’ve got nothing,” said June. She set the cake in the middle of the table.

Lydia set the plates and utensils next to the cake and sighed. “I miss over the moon sex.”

They were all silent a moment.

Claire picked up a knife. “I nearly died tonight. I’m eating dessert first…”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
____________________

T
HE NEXT MORNING, Liz watched from her bedroom window as Carter’s truck pulled out of the driveway. She caught herself humming a chipper tune, turned and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was softly tousled, her eyes bright, her skin luminescent. She looked thoroughly kissed, thoroughly pleased with herself—and thoroughly self-delusional.

Wasn’t it pure and utter folly to become romantically involved with Carter McIntyre? Reality would come crashing into her idyllic dream-world sooner or later like it always did. Six weeks? What would that prove? That she was more infatuated with him than ever?

Liz let out a shaky breath and hugged her bathrobe around her more tightly. Infatuated, hell. She was solidly, undeniably in love with the man. She could try to rationalize it every which way but Sunday, but the truth was she was head over heels. And, worse than the puppy-love of her youth, the feelings she had for him now were far more intense—and far more dangerous to her heart.

Liz impatiently yanked on a T-shirt and sweats, shoved a brush through her tangled hair and stalked to the kitchen where she cracked the slider open a bit to get fresh, head-clearing morning air to her brain.

She was smarter than this. And yet, here she’d gone from being a sucker for Grant—and nearly ruining her career in the bargain—to falling into bed with a man notorious for being irresponsible.

What was she thinking?

Liz snapped the coffee filter into place and punched the ‘on’ button. She couldn’t get side-tracked. Last night she’d been weak, distracted by all that had gone on with Aunt Claire. She’d been emotionally vulnerable, that’s all. And Carter had been so...

Enough
. That was yesterday. And, er, this morning. Today was different. Today she would get back on track.

Sure, he was gorgeous. There was no denying that. And attentive. Entertaining. Generous. But, he was flawed, too. Irreverent. Habitually tardy. Perhaps not enough to have him hanged, but surely enough to give her second thoughts.

She’d simply have some coffee, put her attention back on her to-do list and put fanciful notions of a long-term relationship with Carter McIntyre on the shelf where they belonged.

Liz stared down at the legal pad on her kitchen table and tried to concentrate.

It read
: Clean House.

Exactly,
she told herself, straightening purposefully in her chair. She needed to clean house. Sure, she needed to scrub walls and floors, the oven and sinks, but, more importantly, she needed to take stock of where she was and what she was doing. Like Aunt Claire said, she needed to make a new plan.

What, for instance, had made her so ridiculously susceptible to believing Grant wanted more than he did? Was she that short on prospects she needed to lunge for the first eligible bachelor to show an interest? Was she going to be forever haunted by the dreamy memory of a stolen kiss, forever measuring every man to that impossible yardstick?

Or, was something more at work?

“Work,” she mumbled as she stared off into the distance, her to-do list forgotten. It surprised her to realize she missed being at work about as much as she missed Grant. Which was to say—not much at all. Both represented security, responsibility, a sense of what she was supposed to do with her life. Somehow though, at work and with Grant, she’d fallen into a routine that felt safe, sensible, predictable...

Perhaps that was what made Carter so unaccountably appealing. She never knew what to expect—like being blindfolded.

“But that doesn’t make them wrong and him right,” she murmured aloud.

“Who wrong and who right?” asked a voice from the patio.

Liz jumped, a hand plastered to her chest. “Valerie? You scared the heck out of me! What are you doing back there?”

Valerie lifted a camera into view. “I didn’t see any cars in the drive, so I thought I’d stop and take some photos for the listing. I didn’t realize you were home until I heard you talking to yourself.”

“I wasn’t talking to my—” Liz started to protest, except that’s exactly what she’d been doing. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “Well, carry on. As you can see, I’m just getting coffee.”

Valerie turned her back and snapped a couple more photos of the yard. “Seeing as you’re here, mind if I come in and take some indoor shots? ”

Liz shrugged. “Knock yourself out.” She poured her own coffee and then felt guilty for being snippy.  “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.”

Drat. Liz reached for a second mug.

“I’ve got a couple potential buyers I was worried about bringing over this afternoon, but I’ll be honest, I’m shocked at how good the place looks now,” Val stepped into the kitchen to take her coffee.

Hmm.
Apparently vampires drank it black.

“Gee, thanks.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d need a pat on the back, but nice job.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think it looks good. And, trust me, I see a lot of not good.”

“No, not that. The first part. Why wouldn’t I need a pat on the back? If you put your best efforts into something…”

Val rearranged a couple of things on the counter and shoed Liz aside to take a picture. She shook her head pityingly. “You never could get enough attention, could you? Valedictorian? Assistant V.P.? Queen of Charitable Causes? Should I be thanking you for trying to steal my boyfriend back in high school? You want a pat on the back for that, too?

“Who? I never tried to—!”

Valerie lowered the camera. “Dan. And you
so
did.” She took another sip of coffee. “
Hmm
. Good stuff. I never used to like it black. And, don’t deny it. You always had a thing for Dan. But, you can have him now. He’s all yours.”

“Back up the train. I have
never
had a thing for Dan.”

Valerie repositioned Cookie Rooster and snapped another photo. “Yeah, right.”

“I didn’t!”

“Oh, please. You’ve been after him ever since you sucked face with him at Jenny Whitmeyer’s party junior year. And, don’t deny it. Everybody knows.”

Liz choked on her coffee. “
What?
I never—!”

“Tell me another one. He said you were so horny he had to physically pry you off him.”

Liz felt the blood drain from her face before it roared back in a wave of humiliation.
Dan? It had been DAN in the pantry?
Oh, my God! And all these years she’d fantasized it had been Carter? No
wonder
Dan was so solicitous at the reunion dance!

Liz thought back. She remembered it all so vividly. The tentative kisses, the deeper explorations… the unmistakable feel of something surging toward her, warm and heavy and unknown… and then he reached up to take her hands from his shoulders and held them at her sides…

…he had to physically pry you off him…

Oh. God.

Her stomach roiled. How could she have been so
wrong
?

Valerie took a swig of coffee and snapped another picture. “All these years, every time we had a fight all I’d hear was, ‘Maybe I’ll ask out Beth Beacon, she’s really into me.’ Well, have at it.” Valerie turned and raised one over-plucked brow. “You okay? You look kind of peaked.”

“I’m…”

“Whatever. Take him for all I care. You two deserve each other. He’s a dick and you’re desperate, so you make a good match.”

“Excuse me?” Liz snapped back into focus. “I am
not
desperate. I’ve never been into Dan—
especially now
—and if I was horny it’s because I mistook your boyfriend for my… my…”
My what?
“…Carter.”

“
Your
Carter?”

“No, not
my
Carter, just Carter.”

“Don’t lie to yourself; he’s never been
just
Carter.” Liz turned as Bailey sauntered in, a to-go cup in her fist. She flumped onto a kitchen chair. “Hey, Val, how’s the bat cave?”

“Piss off, Bailey. You were never funny.”

“Bailey!” Liz said, grateful for reinforcements; although, she could use a little less in the way of expository comments. “How’d you get in?”

“Your brother. Do you guys not talk to one another? He’s out front installing some new coach lights. They look good, by the way.”

“He is?”

“Your brother’s
here?
”
Valerie gasped.

Liz shrugged. “Apparently.”

Valerie looked like she was about to bolt. Or throw up. Hard to tell.

Bailey pulled a Snickers bar out of her pocket, the scents of chocolate and sweet mocha filling the air. “You appear to have swallowed a lemon, Valerie, if you don’t mind my saying.” Valerie’s pink lips twisted in annoyance. “Do you have a problem with Liz’s brother?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Valerie set her mug on the counter and headed toward the slider. “I forgot to take photos of the garage. I’m going to go do that before I forget.”

“It’s shorter if you go out the front door,” Bailey pointed out sweetly. Or, as sweetly as a mischievous fairy could be.

“Why don’t you like my brother?” Liz demanded. “Or, do you have a thing against my whole family?”

Valerie’s boobs inflated, straining the buttons of her satin blouse, as she took a deep breath then let it out again. “If you must know, and as painful as you will surely find this information, your brother and I have… a history.”

“Oh my God!” Liz breathed. “You and
John?
”

Valerie’s eyes flashed as she pointed a silencing finger at Bailey. “
Not. A. Word
.”

“I can’t…” Liz managed.

“Neither can I,” Bailey said, around a mouthful of Snickers despite Valerie’s laser finger directive. “You’ve been shagging Liz’s brother?”

“We had a… relationship. Yes.”

“
Ew!”
said Bailey and Liz in unison.

“But it’s over now.”

“Because she kicked me out
.” All eyes turned toward the swinging door to the dining room where John stood, moody and brooding and looking at Valerie like she was a chocolate fountain at a diabetes fundraiser.

“I didn’t kick you out,” she said. “We agreed we were moving our separate ways.”

“We didn’t agree on anything,” John said, walking in and grabbing a coffee mug of his own.

Liz scowled. My God, was this a diner or something? At this rate, she’d have to make a second pot.

“I need to give my marriage another shot,” Valerie said, albeit weakly.

“You’re divorced, Val. You’ve been divorced four years. Dan had his shot.”

“He wants me back,” she said.

“Wait a minute,” Liz interjected. “You just told me
I
could have Dan.”

Valerie gave her the look of death.

Wow. No wonder vampires didn’t want to look in mirrors. They’d scare themselves right out of immortality.

“It’s complicated,” Valerie said, turning back to John.

“He’s a drug addict and a jerk,” John spat.

“We all have our faults,” Valerie murmured.

John just stared at her like Heathcliff brooding over Catherine.

Liz didn’t want to tell either one of them that things ended badly in Bronte’s world.