I keep quiet and wait her out. I love using this tactic to make people reveal things they didn’t intend to. I let silence work in my favor and enjoy letting them stew. How far is she willing to go to get rid of me?
“You arevery kind,” she continues, but the way she says it makes it clear I’m most certainly not. “I’ll askValerie to send some cupcakes for your troubles and we’ll leave it at that.” Eliza’s words are infused with more conviction this time. It’s borderline cute.
“Nonsense.” I’m enjoying her squirming. “We’ll leave in ten.” Shutting down any debate, I open my tablet to check today’s numbers. In the corner of my eye, her shoulders slump and a defeated exhale deflates her niceness completely, her lips moving in a silent mumble.
I catch the end tail of it and nearly chuckle.
“Or some hay for a stubborn ass.”
There’s no point in pretending I’m not just plain curious at this point.
Chapter Three
ELIZA
Charity case.
Dull, countryside mess.
The words keep spiraling in my head, and I finish cooking on autopilot. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was tiptoeing to the bathroom because I didn’t want to disturb him. The words hit me square in the chest when I passed his bedroom. That part of his call rang clearly. Photos I found online of him and the beautiful women flashed in a carousel when feminine laughter chimed through the door. I can imagine the two of them laughing at me.
The tips of my fingers are numb from shame. I’m perfectly aware of my flaws and the two days spent crying in bed didn’t do me any favors. Having a stranger stumble on one of the worst times in my life is embarrassing enough without hearing them ridicule my appearance.
Washing some cups to have something to do and clear my head, I focus on planning my next steps. It’s more important now than wallowing in Carter’s hurtful words. The harsh reality is I don’t have a home now. It cuts deep after eight years of finally feeling settled. Ididn’t think I’d be in this situation again. I refuse to be a burden to the Duntons and can’t count on any of my old friends since they were, or became, more Jared’s friends than mine. He took over every aspect of my life and I let him, thinking I was so lucky.
“I didn’t get your name last night.” Carter’s voice makes me jump out of my skin, and it’s a miracle I don’t drop the cup I’ve been mindlessly washing for the past five minutes.
He’s sitting at the little butcher’s block kitchen island, looking even better than last night. No dark brown hair is out of place, his fresh shirt hugs his frame. One difference from yesterday’s clean-cut image is a slight shadow across his jaw, which unfortunately makes him even more handsome. Carter’s eyes are lighter in the sunlight, two dried river stones, and I’m exposed under his scrutiny.
Once I get my heartbeat under control I manage to answer him. “It’s Eliza.”
My apology breakfast doesn’t have the expected result and the hint of disgust in his perusal of the food takes the wind out of my sails. He must be one of those fitness nuts because, in the end, he only places some fruit on his plate.
Carter barely says anything and the frosty politeness makes me itch to get out of here faster. But then he decides to send me into a tailspin when he insists on coming with me. The last thing I want is him following me to Sam’s little fishing cabin.
Sam’s arthritis made it impossible to spend the night there anymore and so he stopped taking care of the one-bedroom cabin a few years ago. It needs some serious repairs, but I’ll figure something out. It’ll put a dent in my savings to get an air mattress, but it’s cheaper than going to a motel for weeks until I patch the place up. Or maybe I can use a tent for a while.
“Tea?” I push the steaming cup toward Carter.
Grayish blue eyes cut to me, narrowing slightly. Good to know that offering him tea is the equivalent of offending his ancestors.
“I dislike tea.” His rejection is flat. “Tastes horrible,” he says, going back to leisurely eating his fruits.
Rude.
“Take a sip at least, it’s a blend made from local herbs and—”
“No,” he says, retrieving a smaller leather bag from the couch.
Yet again I’m left gaping at his back until he pulls out a tablet and I do my best to convince him I can go alone to the other cabin.
Carter’s attention is glued to the graphs and numbers filling the screen. My efforts to ditch him fall flat and I have ten minutes to panic and find some excuses when we get there. Even before looking him up, Carter’s appearance told me he wasn’t your average man, but the Maserati parked outside left no doubt. I don’t want him to judge me, especially after he called me a charity case.
When my phone finally charged, I switched it on to a barrage of missed calls and texts this morning. I assured Martha I was still alive and saw that Valerie had indeed left a text after I didn’t answer her calls. The ten texts from Jared are ticking bombs in my inbox. It’s tens of calls. Someone at the bar must have told him.
He’s worried, but not enough to come back Friday night. He always stayed the weekend during his work trips to “rest” or have “informal meetings” with the local companies. I’m such an idiot.
I’m torn between the pain of facing him and listening to his explanations and the hurt of him not bothering to come back home, but there’s no time to dwell on it. Carter saunters out of his bedroom and opens the front door, waiting for me.
