next to the car. “Time’s a wasting.”
Gran’s voice brought him back to the business at hand—keeping Gran safe.
Liz sped up. He kept pace with her. “Call me anytime about Gran. I’d rather know what’s going on than be surprised.”
“Of course,” Liz replied tersely. “Though I’m sure there won’t be anything else I need to call about.” She avoided his eyes, practically radiating tension, as she headed for the car.
Liz needed loosening up in a big way. He wouldn’t mind being the one to get her there. Nope, wouldn’t mind that at all.
“I’ll drive over to the dealer too,” he said. “I can help with the haggling.”
“That’s not…” Liz stopped at the driver-side door. “I mean, you don’t have to. I can help her.” She stood stiffly, looking everywhere but at him.
“It’s fine. I can go,” he said.
Liz gave a brief nod and unlocked the car.
He walked around to the other side and held the door open for Gran. “You’re using the insurance money?”
“Yup,” Gran answered as she fastened her seat belt. “That Toyota is melba toast. Bo-ring.”
He couldn’t disagree. As he drove his own car to the Ford dealer, he decided hiring Liz was a good idea. He would’ve just kept arguing with Gran, and she would’ve fought him tooth and nail. This was easier. A win/win.
And there was something about Liz. She wasn’t his usual type. He liked busty, flirty women, especially the newly divorced, who were in it for a good time. Liz probably wouldn’t know a good time if it bit her on the ass.
At the dealer, Gran got into a convertible right away while the sales guy talked her ear off.
“I need to make a call,” Liz said, taking a few steps away.
He inclined his head. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but Liz’s voice carried when she got worked up.
“This last trimester is especially important for the baby’s development,” she said. “Did you read the book?…Okay. Call me if you need me. Bye.”
It was the reminder he needed. Liz had a baby on the way, and he’d already put in his time raising his kid brothers after their mother died. He’d had to step up as the man of the house when his father decided he’d rather lose himself to drink than deal with his grief. Or his three sons.
Liz was back to her cool, controlled self. She kept her distance at the dealer, avoiding his eyes, keeping Gran between them like he had something that was catching.
He helped negotiate a fair price with the sales guy. A short while later, Gran drove off the lot in a shiny red convertible, with Liz and him trailing behind in their separate cars, eating her dust.
Liz drove exactly the speed limit. He drove behind her for a while, puzzling over his simultaneous frustration with her uptight ways and his fascination with the idea of pushing her out of her comfort zone.
Finally, he hit the accelerator to pass her. As he drew even with her car, he glanced over at her. She drove with both hands on the steering wheel in the nine and three o’clock positions, her expression serious, eyes glued to the road ahead of her. She made the perfect antidote to Gran’s newfound crazy.
He had no business messing around with Liz.
None at all.
Off limits.
Chapter Six
Liz drove Maggie home after a long, leisurely drive in the convertible. It was their second day of “taking the car for a spin,” as Maggie liked to say. They’d taken winding country roads through the nearby towns dotted with horse farms and beautiful elegant homes. Today they’d stopped at a park for a picnic in a gorgeous gazebo, chatting over chicken salad sandwiches, fruit salad, and iced tea. Liz was loving her new job.
Until she pulled into Maggie’s driveway. Her heart kicked into double-time when she saw Ryan’s car parked out front. She whipped off the baseball hat she wore in the convertible to keep her hair in place and pulled down the visor to check her hair.
“Ah! Major hat head.” The hat had conspired with the