Carter made himself at home in Lincoln's kitchen and set to work on fixing dinner. The steaks had been set out earlier, and by the time the food was ready, he figured Eliza would be due a break.
He wasn't sure how she did what she did, but as a contractor who'd spent more than his fair share of time going over house plans with clients who constantly changed their minds or saw some great new thing they wanted to add due to Pinterest—something that happened a lot with his job these days—he empathized with Eliza.
Amelia wasn't demanding in any way, but one glance at her expectant expression made it clear Eliza was having a hard time setting boundaries due to the time crunch. She wanted to keep her clients happy—always a good thing—but there had to be limits.
He noticed a break in the conversation and took advantage of it. "Eliza, how do you like your steak?"
Her head jerked in his direction, and he watched her gaze drop to the platter piled high.
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"We planned to," Amelia said. "Dinner for all of us. Mac and Marsali are coming over later."
"Amelia, we have a lot to go over," Eliza said.
"And you will," Carter said. "But you have to eat."
"Yes," Amelia said. "So we will feed you while you ask us questions."
Eliza seemed to take a moment to come to terms with the dinner plans and finally shrugged.
"Okay, thank you. Um, medium to medium well," Eliza said.
He nodded and grabbed the platter to head out the door. Piper hopped down from her seat and followed him with her bottle of water. While he opened the door for Piper, he caught Eliza's gaze on him and felt a surge of pleasure. Maybe he was egotistical, but he could tell she liked what she saw, even if she pretended otherwise.
By the pool, he opened the grill he'd started before going inside and got to work, his thoughts on the plans being made. He'd never had a big to-do like the one Amelia and Lincoln were planning, and it made him wonder what Eliza's dream wedding would be like. Big and fancy? Small and intimate?
Doing what she did, it made sense that she'd want something like no one else. She was unique, after all, and having planned so many weddings and made so many brides happy over the years, she'd no doubt given a lot of thought to her own and deserved to have something fancy for herself.
A bit later, Carter sent Piper in to tell the adults the steaks were about ready and rolled the corncobs one more time. He couldn't wait to see how Eliza ate hers. Delicate little nibbles? Cut it off and eat with a fork? Dig in and chomp down?
The door opened onto the screened-in patio, and everyone emerged carrying something. Plates, glasses, drinks, utensils.
Eliza carried one of her three-ring binder books, and when he joined them, he realized it had Lincoln’s and Amelia's names on it. "Had to bring it with you, huh?"
"Every minute counts," she said.
They settled in around the teakwood table on the screened porch. Carter walked around the group, delivering their custom cooked meat.
"These look fabulous," Amelia said. "And the corn? Yum."
"Dig in," he said, using the fork to place Eliza's on the plate in front of her. "Medium with a shade of well."
"Thank you."
Once everyone was served, he loaded his own plate and took the spot opposite Eliza, noting she deftly cut her steak but didn't so much as look at the corn.
"I love fresh veggies," Amelia said. "Though you're not helping me keep things low-carb with this."
"You don't need to worry about that," Lincoln said.
"Agreed," Carter added. "Men don't want to cuddle stick figures."
Eliza avoided eye contact and kept chewing.
"Oh, Carter, while you were grilling, we decided on colors," Amelia said. "Mostly white and sand, with hints of gold and blue. I'm thinking a tulle gown for Piper. Blue to match her beautiful eyes."
"Will it have a poofy skirt?" Piper asked, butter running off her chin.
"You can have the poofiest skirt available," Amelia said.
"And be the most beautiful flower girl there ever was," he said to his daughter.
Carter felt the moment Eliza's gaze landed on him, but when he shifted his attention to her, she averted her gaze once more.
She still hadn't touched her corn. Surely she wasn't one of those women who didn't like to get a little messy? What about ribs? Seafood?
Sex?
"Izzy and I are going shopping tomorrow to look for a wedding dress," Amelia said, referring to her best friend. "You're welcome to join us, Eliza."
"Can I come?" Piper asked.
"You'll be in school, kiddo," Carter said. "But you'd better believe Amelia will pick out something pretty for you, too."
"Definitely," Amelia said.
The subject changed to what the groomsmen would wear and how Lincoln would differentiate himself from the pack. Carter listened with half an ear, not really caring what he wore.
His gaze locked on Eliza, and he watched as she eyed the corn like a project she was about to undertake. "Not your favorite?"
"Too messy."
Hmm. He happened to like some things messy. But what was more, he got the distinct impression by the way she was eyeing it that she would've chowed down on the corn had no one been around, so messiness had a place with her, but not where everyone could see.
Really? Comparing the way she eats—or doesn't eat—corn on the cob to other areas of life?
It made him wonder, though. Because that first night when he'd met her, she'd been tipsy and her guard had been down. Eliza had been messy and messy looked good on her.
Now she appeared much too professional, not to mention stressed, and he wouldn't mind seeing her with butter on her soft, kissable lips. Or hair wet and stuck to her skin in the pool.
When dinner was over, the half ear of perfectly grilled corn remained on Eliza's plate, and he mourned not getting to see her eat it.
"Oh, I'm stuffed," Amelia said. "Eliza, can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine. That was delicious. Thank you."
The thank-you was said to him, and Carter dipped his head in a nod.
Everyone gathered plates and glasses, and he and Eliza were the last at the table.
"Next time I'll cut the corn off the cob for you."
She lifted her head at his words, and her eyes widened a bit before she shook her head. "That's… thoughtful but not necessary. I just didn't want to seem unprofessional when I'm on the job."
"What about when you're not working?"
A smile tugged at her lips. "Grilled corn is a huge favorite, actually."
A laugh left his chest. "So basically you sat there being tortured through dinner because you didn't want to be messy?"
"Yup."
He paused at the entrance to the house, her comment drawing his attention to her lips just like it had that night in the elevator. Was that only a few days ago? Given how many times she'd wound up in his thoughts, it seemed like a lot longer.
"Um… I should probably get in there so I won't be here all night."
"You can always sleep over at my place." The moment the words came out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back, but it was too late. And he hadn't meant them like that. Well, he wouldn't be opposed to that but still… "On the couch. Or spare bedroom. Not… Sorry."
A low laugh emerged from her, and she shook her head as she slipped by him into the house.
He watched her every move, taking in the sway of her hips as she walked back to the kitchen table.
Across the room, Lincoln cleared his throat, and Carter looked up to find his older brother shooting him a dark glare. Carter sighed.
The next two weeks were going to be a whole different type of torture.