Page 32 of Betting on Lizzie

“I just got off the phone with them,” he said. “Told them we arrested someone unaffiliated with you, so I don’t see why not. I’m sure there’s some red tape and all that, but you should be good to go.”

“Feel bad you suspected me now?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Not one bit,” he retorted. “Like I said when we met. Nine times out of ten, it’s the owner.”

“Yeah, well. Thanks, Mansfield. Come by the new bar next week, and I’ll give you one on the house. Catch ya later.”

He hung up with a smile on his face. She was so unlike the other women he knew. That wasn’t saying much. He didn’t know many, but still, there was something about her that intrigued him. Made him want to know her better and figure out what made her tick. And now that he’d ruled her out as a suspect, those feelings were multiplying and intensifying.

A couple of nights later, he was out walking Jasper and spotted Lizzie’s monstrous mini horse. The dog had just pooped, and Lizzie was hunched over, dutifully picking it up.

“You need a backhoe for the poop,” he said.

She stood hastily and almost looked embarrassed. Ben didn’t think that was possible.

“Ha,” she said. “That’s true. They did tell me—big dog, big turds—but I didn’t listen. This is my only complaint.”

She tied off the bag, threw it into a nearby trash can, and used some hand sanitizer. Charlie was leashed but needn’t have been. He stayed within a foot of Lizzie at all times. After an initial butt-sniffing greeting, he’d deemed Jasper a non-threat and ignored him, but continued to give Ben the side-eye.

Lizzie started out onto the pier.

“Mind if we tag along?”

“Free country,” she said, turning her back on him.

So, she wasn’t going to make this easy. It only took a couple of long strides to catch her, and they walked side by side to the end of the wooden pier. This far out, the wind wasn’t blocked, and her hair fluttered around her face. She used a hairband from her wrist to tie up a ponytail—a move he’d seen Maya make a thousand times.

“I’m sorry I suspected you,” he said to break the silence.

She smiled and shrugged. “No worries. I understand why you did.”

They looked out over the river while he summoned the courage to do something he hadn’t done in ages.

“Look, I’m too old to play games. Do you want to go out with me? On a date?”

She stared at him for a second. Possibly just to see him sweat? Perhaps it wasn’t the smoothest of invitations, but he thought she felt the connection too. Was he so out of touch with women that he’d misread the situation?

“Sure,” she finally said.

“Great. It’s either this or have my daughter set me up with someone online.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

He barked out a laugh. “Sorry. I guess I need some practice.”

They started the walk back, and as they approached the base of her building, she spoke again.

“Where and when?”

“Oh, geez,” he said. “I didn’t think that far in advance. It took all my brain power and gumption just to ask. Can I get back to you on that?”

This time when she laughed, she ran a hand down his arm. The light touch of a woman shouldn’t have affected him so much, but it had been a while.

“Yes. That’s fine. The grand opening for The Tipsy Twist is next Thursday. Why don’t you stop by for the drink I promised you?”

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

He had a week to get his act together. Bumbling idiocy would only be charming for so long.

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