Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) (38 page)

“She’s a client of mine. Or was.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing happened.”

“Jim, you don’t have to ex—”

“She wanted to
—have something happen, that is—”

“Please. You don’t have to
—”

“She wanted something I couldn’t give her, Kate,” he said, talking over her. “She wanted me to be someone I wasn’t. What I’m saying is
—I’ve said the words you wanted me to say tonight and... I can’t do that again.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Yes, you are. Just by being you, you are.” He sighed, compassion filling his hazel eyes. “What I’m trying to say is: you’ve had a lot of tough stuff happen to you the last few months. And maybe you are ready to move on to the next step. If so, that’s great. But, I can’t be that next step. I can’t be anything more than a friend. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. Things have gotten too intense too fast
—you know—between us.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Her stomach threatened to revolt a second time that evening but she swallowed her disappointment and forced a half smile to her lips. “I understand.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
____________________

T
WO WEEKS.
T
WO WEEKS SINCE he’d looked into Kate’s baby blues… and lied to her.

Hell, he didn’t know what he felt or what to call it, but ‘friends’ wasn’t it.

Jim shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook by the back door. Cathy was out of town, thank God, and he was back to dealing with Wilson. At least he still had the job. Never again would he date a client. Ever.

He knew there was one last cold beer in his fridge, and it had his name on it.

He pushed open the door at the top of the basement stairs and frowned at the sound of movement in his kitchen. It was unlikely to be a wild animal or intruder. Unless, of course, you considered your own family intrusive.

Which at this moment, he did.

He heaved an audible sigh when he saw Grace at the stove. “Grace, what are you doing?”

She turned, as if she stood over a steaming pot in his kitchen every Friday night. He made a mental note to hide the spare key in a new place. “I’m making dinner,” she said with some annoyance, as if his question was distracting her from the complicated task of boiling water.

“Why?”

She finally gave up peering at the box of pasta and poured it all into the pot, then gave it a stir.

“So we can eat,” she said matter-of-factly as she tore open a bag of lettuce and searched loudly in his cupboards, he guessed for something to put it in.

“‘We’ who?”

“What do you mean, ‘we who?’
Us!
Didn’t Carter tell you?”

“Would I be asking if he had?” All he wanted was a cold beer and some peace and quiet for
God’s sake. Instead, he got twenty questions with a cranky Julia Child.

“Sorry we’re late!” The front door slammed as Rachel and Doug let themselves in. Doug soon appeared holding a large white bakery box.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked again.

“Didn’t Carter tell you?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Grace called from the stove. “Put the cake over there.” She pointed to the counter under the window. “I’m almost done with the pasta. Could you finish the salad?”

“Sure.” Rachel bustled in to offer a hand as Doug set the bakery box by the window.

“Where’s Carter?” Grace asked as she stirred the pasta. “He was supposed to take care of getting her here.”

“Would someone
please
tell me what the hell is going on?” Jim finally demanded.

Three sets of eyes turned as the front door opened and shut. “How’s operation surprise party coming along?” Carter called down the hall.

“
Party?
” Jim said.

“Yeah,” Carter affirmed as he slapped his cousin on the back on his way to the fridge. “For Kate. You know, her birthday.”

“No,” Jim ground out, “I didn’t know. Apparently it was your job to tell me?”

“Was it?” Carter looked around at the others. “Geez. Forgot. Well, it’s her birthday today and the girls wanted to throw a little surprise for her, seeing as she’s all alone and new in town.”

Jim closed his eyes on a bid for patience. It did little to calm him as he heard the distinctive sound of his cousin opening
his
beer. “You’re throwing her a party. Here. Tonight.”

“Right.” Carter checked his watch. “In twenty minutes. Or as soon as I pick her up. I drove her by a job site this morning so she wouldn’t have her car today.” He tapped his temple with the neck of the bottle. “Ahead thinking I was.”

Jim stared at the beer in his cousin’s hand, alternately wishing it was in his own and wishing Carter would choke on its contents. “You plan to drive after downing that?”

“It’s just one.”

“I’ll get her,” Jim said, not really wanting any part of the whole thing. Worst case, he’d stop at the package store.

“Oh,” Rachel said. “That won’t work. She’ll suspect something if it’s you.”

“Seeing as I’m as surprised as anybody that I’m throwing a party in my house tonight, I don’t think I’ll let on.” He stood up to leave then thought to ask, “Are we expecting any more people, or should I let that be a surprise, too?”

“Don’t be snippy just because Carter forgot to tell you. It’s for Kate!”

He wasn’t being snippy, he grumbled to himself. But even if he was—which he wasn’t—didn’t he have a right to feel put out if someone planned a surprise party to be held
in his house
without notifying him to see if he even wanted to be a part of it?

“Oh, crap!” Grace exclaimed. “If you didn’t know about the party, then we don’t have a gift!”

“I was supposed to get a gift?” Jim asked.

“It’s okay,” Rachel cajoled. “We’ll do without. Though it would have been nice
—”

“What was I supposed to get her?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said unhelpfully. “Although, I had thought something from that little gift shop on the corner of Maple Street—you know the one with crafts and stuff from local artists?—might have been nice. Something that’d make her think of Sugar Falls or this summer.”

“Right,” Jim nodded. “But seeing as it’s six o’clock on a Friday night, how likely is it they’ll be open?”

“That’s a great idea,” Grace chimed in, as if either of them had said anything at all constructive. “How about one of those old decoys you and Gramps used to make? Is there one you don’t like as much?”

“Real generous of you,” said Carter wandering over to peer into the bakery box. “Take some dusty cast-off from Jim’s shelf as a gift? I think she’d prefer the cake.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea! If Jim doesn’t mind,” Rachel added.

All eyes turned toward Jim.

Like he was going to say, no, they were too meaningful to him and look like a selfish jerk? But which one?

He walked to the living room and stood in front of the shelves.
Would she even want one?
Granted, she’d complimented him on them that first night, but maybe she’d just been being nice. Anyway, he couldn’t give Gramps’ decoys away, that didn’t feel right. Even though he had them in his possession for now, they should stay in the family.

That left his to choose from.

Jim studied the shelf of decoys. They’d improved over the years. His early attempts were more rustic. Once he’d improved his carving technique he’d gone through a period of experimenting with different tinted stains and paints. Some weren’t quite good enough to his eye; some he didn’t think were right. Finally he picked one from the back of the shelf.

“Here,” he said to Grace as she stood in the doorway.

“This one?” she asked with some surprise.

“Yeah. Something wrong with it?”

“No.”

“Then dust it off before you wrap it. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

August 7
Expectations. I’m entirely against them. They only set you up for disappointment. On the other hand, I’m all for Pleasant Surprises. In fact, I’m expecting one any day now...

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
____________________

“
I
SHOULD TELL HIM.”

Kate sat back on her heels
—not sure where that particular thought had come from—and surveyed the piles of paperwork surrounding her. Carter had asked her to sort through a few boxes of paperwork he’d pulled from a closet to see what needed keeping and what could be safely tossed. It might seem a tedious process to some, but it felt liberating to Kate. Plus she was getting paid for the effort. She was more than happy to oblige.

Except now she had entirely too much time to think. About life. And relationships. And how she was deceiving the man she’d rapidly become much too fond of. As a friend, of course.

It had been two weeks since the Naughty Nightie party. And aside from a few brief exchanges while helping Liam take care of Smudge, she hadn’t spoken to Jim—not that she knew what she could say.

Kate bit her lip. She didn’t want to ruin their friendship, but now more than ever it mattered what he thought. She pulled at her waistband hoping to gain a little breathing room and recognized the futility. Pretty soon she’d have no choice but to come clean.

With everybody.

Not that she had any idea how she
would
tell him.
Oh, I’m just mailing my health insurance payment. I’d switch, but I have to keep it up for nine months to avoid being denied on a new policy for a pre-existing condition.

Or how about...

Beer and pizza for dinner? Oh, can’t have the beer, because it’s not good for the baby.

Or even better...

I’m pregnant, but don’t worry. It’s not yours...

That last one made her pause. If only it
were
Jim’s, she wouldn’t have so much getting in the way of a future with him. She’d have more binding them together than a tentative friendship and way too much sexual attraction.

Kate closed the drawer of the filing cabinet and surveyed the small room. It had taken a few days, but she’d not only gotten to the bottom of the piles, she’d set up organizational systems even Carter could follow. At least, in theory. He seemed perfectly happy letting her take care of the office work.

And that was good news. For at least the time being they’d decided she would continue to work a couple afternoons a week. So far, she’d done simple bookkeeping, filing, and supplies ordering.

She tidied the desktop and wondered when Carter might be back to drive her home.

Home. Funny how quickly she’d come to think of the little white cottage by the lake as home. She’d yet to work up the courage to ask Ruth Pearson about renting at the end of the summer.
Which ended in two weeks.

Oh
God. She
had
to call Nancy.

Kate stood and brushed the thought away. Today was her birthday. Not that she had any big plans. Susan Lamont had called earlier in the week asking if Liam would be interested in a play date with the twins. Apparently it was the anniversary of the day they had come home from the NICU, and Susan was taking them to the pizza and games center for an evening of revelry.

Kate had been about to offer to tag along when Susan had told her in no uncertain terms to enjoy her night of freedom.

As if being alone was what she most wanted in life.

Maybe she’d run to the grocery store, pick up a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a romance novel and spend her birthday indulging in herself. Maybe she’d even have time to paint her nails.

All of them.

Kate smiled, pleased with her plan, as the door to the apartment swung open. “
Oh!”
she said.

“Hey.” Jim waved. “You ready?”

Why was
he
here? She hadn’t seen him for days. “Where’s Carter?” she blurted before her thoughts could wander any further.

Jim held the door for her as she picked up her sweater and purse. “He forgot something and asked me to give you a ride.”

“Oh. I see. Well, thanks.”

“Sure.”

They walked in silence to Jim’s truck. He wore the same khaki carpenter pants and plain tee he’d had on the first time they’d met, though he had on a pair of dark, weathered work-boots which made her think of sexy rural men and hay barns.

Hay barns? A vague recollection of a story someone told at the Naughty Nightie party came to mind, but she couldn’t remember the details. All she could remember is picturing Jim Pearson as the hero of the narrative. Her cheeks grew hot in the cooling air.

“Something funny?”

Kate glanced up. “No. Why?”

“You were smiling.”

She folded her sweater over her arm. “Just remembering something from the swap and shop night is all.”