by Cheri Allan
“I beg your pardon?”
“The next level. He doesn’t want to get married, for Christ’s sake, the guy just wants to get laid! And here you’re giving me a hard time just because I’m upfront about it? Fuck! The only thing complicated here is you!”
At her stunned intake of breath, he caught himself. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He raked his fingers through his hair again, anger and hurt and envy for this guy he’d never even met coursing through him. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, let it drop to her side again. “Don’t. You’ve said enough. Just... go.”
“Liz…” But the look she gave him told him it was too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
____________________
CARTER FROWNED at the orange juice his cousin Jim set in front of him and tried to ignore his sister’s smirk as she draped herself over a neighboring chair. Clearly it had been a mistake to come here and expose himself to his family’s scrutiny and opinions, but his sister-in-law, Kate, had invited him days ago. And he was out of milk.
He’d hoped for a private moment to talk to his cousin, man-to-man, given the fact that he’d clearly gone off the deep end. Hell, maybe there was a way to undo this mess he found himself in.
Just his luck, his sister was already sponging breakfast off Jim and Kate when he arrived. He’d been reduced to relating a highly edited version of the weekend’s events.
“She shut me out,” he said in conclusion, accepting a second helping of waffles from Jim. The guy ate like a king. “Why do women have to make everything so complicated?”
“Well, what did you expect?” Grace helped herself to the syrup and a generous spoonful of whipped cream. “Did you think just because she liked the cabinet color she’d up and decide she couldn’t possibly leave them? Or Sugar Falls? Or you? Did you think,” she laughed over a mouthful of waffle, “she’d fall in love with you over a paint chip?”
“It was a valid question. You don’t have to make me sound ridiculous,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry. I’m making you sound ridiculous?”
“What I meant is... she’s not easy. In my experience, women have always been easy.” He turned to Jim for confirmation of this universal truth.
Grace snorted in disgust.
Carter frowned. “What I mean is, easy to please. Easy to figure out. You do nice things, say nice things to them, they do nice things and say nice things to you. Easy.” And nobody felt things they shouldn’t feel.
“Easy to get into bed, you mean.”
Carter scowled as he reached for the syrup. “I’m not talking about that.”
“What? Carter McIntyre not bragging about his latest conquest?”
“She’s not a—” He uttered a short curse and smacked his fist on the table in frustration. “Why do I even try?”
Shit. Is that what his exes felt like? Conquests? Is that how he appeared? He thought back over his dating history with new eyes. He’d never intentionally misled anyone, never talked about a future or kids or love. He’d thought it was kinder to quietly back away when things got too close. Easier. But, maybe it had only been easier for him… like pushing someone away to swim to safety alone.
“Don’t be so hard on him, Grace.” Kate set baby Lily in her bouncy seat and flashed him a reassuring smile.
He stabbed at his waffle knowing he was being set adrift and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He helped himself to the syrup. “Yeah. Shut up and pass the whipped cream. By the way, thanks for breakfast, Kate.”
“My pleasure.” She glanced toward Grace then back at Carter. “But I did have ulterior motives for inviting you two today.”
Grace and Carter eyed each other warily.
“You did?”
Kate glanced uncertainly toward her husband then squared her shoulders. “The thing is, I don’t think I can continue to help with the landscaping business. I simply don’t have the time anymore.” She gestured toward the sleeping baby meaningfully.
Carter’s lips lifted in a half smile. “The first six weeks are the hardest. Rachel said so. After that, things settle out again. You’re just talking temporarily, right?”
“Carter, the business is at a point where you need someone a minimum of part-time. Probably more. I thought with Grace between jobs, it was the right time to bow out gracefully. I’ve got my own business to tend to as well as the kids…”
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?”
“Just want sex. Is that what we’ve been talking about? When we’ve talked about taking it to the next level?”
“What?” she braced herself as he paused. He chuckled awkwardly. “You’ve, ah, taken me by surprise here, sweetheart. I don’t—”
“It’s a simple question.”
“It’s not—” She could hear him exhale. “Of course, I want to have sex with you. I thought I’d made that clear.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, I can’t… I can’t talk now. Ethan’s waiting or else I—”
“No!” she cut him off, glad he couldn’t witness her humiliation in person. “No. It’s okay. I understand.”
“I’ll call you later, all right? After I get out. I—”
“No! No. Please don’t. Don’t call. I have, um, things to finish here. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“You’re not— I’m sorry you’ve been confused about us, Liz. I—”
“You know what? I’ll call when I get back to Chicago. Phew!” she fake sighed. “I don’t know when I’ll have time to talk earlier. Truly. So busy here!”
“Liz—”
But she’d already hung up, the phone forgotten in her hand as she stared out the window, her body buzzing with humiliation.
How could she have been so foolish? Here she’d thought they’d been moving toward something, something meaningful, something more, and all he’d wanted was sex? She should probably feel flattered he’d care so much, would wait so long, just to get his hands in her pants, but she couldn’t summon the enthusiasm for it.
She’d put her job on the line—the one she’d worked for for ten long, slogging years—and become romantically involved with a coworker all for the possibility of a quick shag?
It seemed she’d put her heart on the line doing the same with Carter, so she really couldn’t point fingers at Grant.
Oh God, what a mess.
Liz buried her face in her hands and waited for the tears. They didn’t come, damn it.
The phone rang on the bed beside her. Liz automatically flipped it open. Trish. “I know we’re sisters,” Liz said, “but now is not a good—”
“It’s Aunt Claire,” Trish cut in. “I just got a call from the hospital. She’s in the E.R.... something about feeling dizzy and chest pains.”
“Chest pains?” Liz stood numbly, a wave of dread washing over her. Aunt Claire was built like an ox, how could she be having chest pains?
“I have to pick up the kids from preschool... drop them off at the neighbor’s. I can swing by to pick you up after that—”
“No! No. It’s too far out of your way. I’ll get there on my own. Just go. Make sure she’s not alone.”
Liz hung up, her fingers shaking, and dialed the only number that came to mind.
“Yeah?”
Even the distracted, impatient sound of his voice was calming, reassuring. “Carter, it’s Liz. I need a favor.”
“I know. Grab a coat on your way out. It’s starting to rain again.”
“My Aunt is—”
“At Sugar Falls General. I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Here?”
“Out front.”
Liz peeked out the window. Carter stood in her driveway, his shoulders hunched against the weather as he opened the passenger door of his pickup. Waiting. “I’ll be right out.”
A light drizzle chilled the air as she hurried down the front walk and slid into the truck. “How did you know?” she asked, still stunned and grateful he was there.
“Grams. Your aunt was complaining of palpitations and dizziness at their get-together Friday night. They finally convinced her to get it checked out.”
“She’s been having symptoms for four days?”
“On and off.”
Liz pressed a hand to her eyes then straightened to look out the window. Time enough to worry about Aunt Claire when they knew more. “Listen, about earlier...” she began.
“Forget it.”
Liz nodded and turned toward the window. She didn’t want to talk either.
Seemed she was as bad at communicating as the rest of her family was. Must be genetic.
“Hey. It’s probably nothing serious,” Carter reassured her as he pulled onto the main road.
Liz nodded again and swallowed through the thickening dread in her throat. She hoped he was right. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that life as she knew it was quickly unraveling.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
____________________
“IT’S NOTHING SERIOUS.” Aunt Claire insisted, pursing her lips and pulling at the flap of her ill-fitting hospital gown. “I don’t know why you rushed down here. They’re just running some routine tests.”
“If they’re so routine, why are you in the E.R.?” Liz countered. “Besides, we didn’t want you to be alone while you waited.”
“We?” Aunt Claire asked as she peered at Carter behind Liz.
“Trish and me. She’s coming as soon as she drops off the kids.”
“And my grandmother will be here as soon as she’s picked up June and Lydia,” Carter added from the doorway.
“You’ll all be bored. They’ve got me hooked up like a science experiment waiting for me to spit out data. But, it’s your time…”
Liz sat in the chair by the bed, noting the worried crease on her great-aunt’s forehead. “When did it start?”
“Friday. They come and go. Then they came again this afternoon. Scared me a little.”
“You were smart to come and get checked out.” Liz squeezed Claire’s hand, knowing she must have been more than a little scared to check herself into the E.R.
Liz closed her eyes as Carter’s hand brushed her shoulder. She wanted to lean into him, his quiet support, but steeled herself against it.
“I’ll wait in the lobby,” he whispered in her ear. “They don’t want more than one visitor in here.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ll wait,” he said firmly, giving her shoulder a final squeeze before slipping out.
Liz caught Aunt Claire’s speculative glance when she turned back around. “He’s just a friend.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Liz’s face grew warm, but she didn’t reply. “He’s a good boy, Liz. It’s nice to see you’re smart enough to see beneath the surface.”
“It’s complicated.”
Claire scowled as a phle
botomist came in the room. “Life’s complicated,” she insisted as he rolled up her sleeve. “That’s what makes it interesting. Get used to it.”
Liz slumped in the chair and sighed. “Then my life must be very interesting right now.”
Claire shooed the phlebotomist on his way as soon as he was done. “Well don’t hold back. What’s interesting?”
“You don’t want to hear. Besides, now is not the time.”
“I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“I come out of it looking pretty foolish in the end.”
“I thought we were talking about Carter.”
“Him, too.”
“You’d better start from the beginning.”
Minutes later, after editing out the steamier scenes in her little daytime drama, Liz sat back and spread her hands. “See? I’ve been wasting my time—and risking my job—dating a coworker for months who only wanted... a casual fling, and I’ve become... emotionally involved... with a man who has a reputation for using illegal drugs. I told you I’d come out looking foolish.”
Claire shook her head and pinned Liz with steely eyes. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I know. I know. Me, too.”
Claire tsked impatiently. “Talk about thick-headed! If I weren’t trussed up like a chicken I’d smack you ‘side the head. I would have thought you—of all people—would be better about not judging others by their reputation! Haven’t you railed against that your whole life? What did they used to call you? Smarty Pants? Beth the Brainiac?”
“Brainy Beacon,” Liz mumbled.
“Ah, right. And here you are taking all the sordid gossip you’ve heard about Carter at face value? I’m shocked.”
Liz eyed the heart monitor worriedly. “Please don’t get yourself worked up right now...”
“Pfft. Then stop being a ninny!”
“I’m trying to be cautious. Being a ninny is what landed me on the front page of the newspaper with my underwear hanging out.”
“Being a ninny is what has you sitting in this chair like a sad sack thinking you’ve run out of options.”
“No, I’ve just run out of plans.”
