because Liz had dated a few other men in town before accepting Dax’s proposal, Russ had a low opinion of her that he didn’t bother to hide. As far as she was concerned, he needed to loosen up.
“What he’s saying is that I’m hot and Dax is a lucky man,” she replied even though Russ hadn’t been speaking to her. She tossed her head so that her earrings would sparkle and spikes of hair sticking up from her ponytail would dance. “Dax knows that, don’t you, honey?” If he wasn’t going to defend her voluntarily, she’d put him on the spot so he had no choice.
For a moment, he leaned back in his chair and stared steadily back at her, his mouth set in a grim line. Then he shocked her by tossing his cards into the middle of the table.
“I fold,” he growled, scooping up his paltry little pile of chips and shoving back his chair. “I came to play poker, not to sit around jawing about flowers and fireworks.”
Oh, so men didn’t talk while they played? Liz thought. Everyone knew they were worse than women when it came to gossip.
No one breathed a word as Dax grabbed his jacket and stalked out of the room. She would sooner streak naked down Main Street than go running after him, even though her cheeks burned when she caught a couple of sympathetic glances.
“Don’t mind him,” DJ said after Dax had slammed the door behind him. “He’s probably just nervous about getting married again.”
Or Dax was upset that his brother was going to marry Allaire, the woman he was still in love with, after all, Liz thought miserably. She made sure her smile didn’t waver.
Either way, it had obviously been a huge mistake to come here tonight. Now all she had to do was to make a graceful exit without bursting into tears.
“He’ll be fine once he stops pouting.” She made a dismissive gesture that showed off her new manicure. “After all, we firecrackers like a man who can make a few sparks of his own.” She paired a little hip shimmy with a suggestive wink.
A couple of the remaining men chuckled appreciatively at her quip and Marshall gave her two big thumbs up.
“He’s got his hands full with you, that’s for sure,” he said with another charming grin of his own. No wonder every woman in town was crazy about him, even though he was head over heels in love with Mia Smith.
“You’d know about that, old boy,” Russ muttered just loud enough for Liz to hear.
Grant whacked Russ on the arm. “You look great tonight, Liz,” he said firmly.
“Thanks, boss.” She needed to get out of here. “I’m going to let you boys go back to your game. See y’all later.”
Amid a chorus of hearty good-byes, she left the room. “May the best man win,” she called over her shoulder. As she walked down the hallway, she pulled her cell phone from her bag and called Dax, intent on demanding an explanation for his outrageous behavior.
Chapter One
“You’re better off without him, Sis,” Emily said in a firm voice. “Dax Traub is an idiot if he doesn’t know what he’s losing. He’s not worth another minute of your time.”
Even though Liz was still reeling from the shock of her broken engagement, her sister’s words made her feel slightly better.
“I think you’re biased,” Liz protested in a shaky voice.
She’d called Emily as soon as she’d gotten home from meeting Dax at The Rib Shack, DJ’s latest addition to his successful restaurant chain. Apparently Dax had figured she wouldn’t make a scene if he gave her the bad news in a public place.
At first Liz had been too stunned to speak, too busy trying to absorb words that seemed to have no meaning. Holding back the threat of tears as he’d sat across from her looking uncomfortable. He’d looked anywhere but at her as he’d squirmed in his chair.
When she’d asked him why in a ragged whisper, he had merely shrugged. “It’s not you.” His face showed more discomfort than regret or sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
Still speechless, Liz had gotten to her feet, legs wobbly, and left the restaurant with as much dignity as she could manage. All the way home from town, tears running down her face, she had asked herself why. Why? Dax was handsome and sexy, his bad-boy image not hurt in the least by the motorcycle shop he owned. Apparently Liz just wasn’t pretty enough or hot enough to hang on to someone like him.
“He wasn’t right for you, honey,” Emily continued. “Why on earth did you get engaged to him in the first place? You hadn’t dated long, had you? Did you even really know him?”
Liz leaned against the kitchen counter of the tiny cabin where she lived, a cabin owned by Emily and her husband. “No, obviously not,” she moaned, “but he was so insistent. When he proposed, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and I hated to hurt his feelings.”
“Oh, honey,” Emily said, “now he’s hurt yours, the bum. Maybe it’s time to start putting yourself first. Getting married isn’t your only option, you know.”
Good point, Liz thought as she straightened and walked over to the window above the sink. The view of the trees never failed to calm her.
“I guess it’s mainly my pride that’s hurt,” she admitted, realizing that what she said was true. How many men had she dated because it was hard to turn them down, even when she had no real romantic interest in them?
“Did you love him?” Emily asked. “Could you really picture yourself spending the rest of your life with him?”
Liz tried to picture herself with gray hair and bifocals, seated on a Harley with a shawl draped around her shoulders. “Maybe I was more in love with the idea of getting married than I ever was with Dax.” After all, hadn’t she been planning her wedding since she was a little girl?
At least she hadn’t slept with him. She had wanted to wait and he’d been okay with that. Perhaps too okay.
“Truth be told, I don’t think he’s over his first wife, Allaire,” Liz admitted aloud the niggling suspicion she’d refused to acknowledge before, even in her thoughts. As her fingers tightened on her phone, she watched a woodpecker drilling a nearby tree trunk in a quest for insects. “It probably wasn’t a coincidence that we got engaged at about the same time she and DJ made their announcement,” she admitted.
Emily groaned again. “You poor thing. If he was on the rebound—”
“You know what,” Liz interrupted on a fresh burst of determination, “I’m going to get through this and I’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
“I know you will.” Emily’s tone was instantly hearty—and as phony as the counterfeit twenty Liz had gotten stuck with at the bar last week.
Still, Liz appreciated her sister’s support. Even if Emily did sometimes think Liz was a flake just because she had changed jobs a few times—well, maybe more than just a few—as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do until she met the perfect mate and married him.
Didn’t most women like her—single, early twenties—want it all, a great career, a wonderful husband and a perfect family? Wasn’t that still the American dream?
She rubbed her temple with her free hand. Was she being realistic in thinking it was possible? Perhaps she needed to rethink things.
Even though having a man in her life would be nice, like having a sports car, she didn’t need one. She straightened. Emily was right; she had other options. This could be the first day of a new plan, a new direction.
A brand-new Lizbeth Stanton!
The notion was too fresh to share with her sister. She might remind Liz of all the other times she’d made fresh starts, make her doubt herself.
“Em, I’ve got to go,” Liz said, glancing up at the clock. She had a couple of errands