It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (11 page)

Marshall

His phone number is written at the bottom of the letter, and before I think twice, I dial his number.

I don’t recall a time I have been this nervous and excited at the same time. He will be here any minute. Krystal is in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner when I hear a knock at the door. The second I hear it, it’s like everything goes into slow motion. As I make my way to the foyer, I notice the peonies on the half-moon table. My heart is dancing so wildly that I need to stop my forward momentum for a moment to try and slow it down. I fear I may pass out, and I certainly don’t need to add that to my “embarrassing moments” list.

I unlock the door and ease it open. There he stands before me in godlike perfection. I want to fling myself at him, tell him I’m sorry for not hearing him out, for causing him any reason to worry, for all the pain he has been through. But before I say a word, he has stepped inside toward me, clearly not wanting to touch me, maybe fearing he’ll hurt me. He reaches out and gently tucks my hair behind my ear.

“It’s so good to see you, Beth. I was so worried.” He swallows hard, like he’s holding something back. “I want to hug you so badly, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

Tears threaten my eyes at his sweet words. I love that he calls me Beth. I love that he already has something special for only me. “It’s okay if you hug me, Marshall.”

A single tear rolls down my cheek as I look up at him, deep into his denim blues. His thumb gently wipes away my tear, not breaking his locked gaze on my eyes. He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me in close, grabbing onto my hand with the other, and he kisses my head, breathing deeply into my hair. We hold still that way for a while before my gaze moves to the flowers.

“Was it you?” I mutter.

He leans back, locking eyes with me again.

“Was what me?”

I nod over to the flowers, which are behind him.

He turns back to look. “Maybe,” he says with a sheepish grin.

“Marshall, it’s too much.” More than one tear escapes my eyes this time. “How did you know it was my favorite flower?”

“I overheard you telling Krystal how gorgeous you thought they were about a year ago,” he offers, again wiping at one of my tears.

“You heard that?”

More tears rush from my eyes. I can’t get my emotions together. I hate being this fragile. Maybe it was a bad idea to have him here so soon, but I can’t be more elated with what he has just shared with me. This man is full of surprises.

“You remembered what a flower looked like from a year ago?”

“Well, when someone you can’t quit thinking about speaks—and I’ve been thinking about you since the very first time I saw you—you listen, even if they won’t actually talk to you.”

I feel my face flush. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” His hand gently reaches for the back of my neck. “Just enjoy them.”

His lips touch mine, carefully avoiding the tender side of my mouth. A few gentle nips at the corner of my lips, and I’m longing to get closer to him. Placing my hands on his waist, I pull him in tighter, forgetting about my shoulder, but only for a moment. An involuntary yelp escapes from my longing mouth.

He quickly pulls back, panicked. “Did I hurt you?”

“It’s just my shoulder. I’m all right.”

A look of uneasiness washes over his face. “Let’s go sit down. You should be taking it easy.” He grabs my hand, leading me into the living room.

“Hi, Marshall,” Krystal’s voice bellows from the kitchen.

He sits, easing me down to sit next to him. “Hey, Krystal. Thanks for staying here with Beth tonight.”

“Of course,” she yells back.

His attention is back on me. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. My shoulder is a bit achy from being dislocated, but the doctor said it might be a week or more before that goes away.” I watch as he studies the bruise and stitches on the right side of my cheek bone near my hairline.

“This looks like it hurts,” he says, gently brushing my hair back with his fingertips.

“The pain pills they have me on work wonders,” I say with a soft a laugh, but the worry in his eyes doesn’t diminish. My attention moves to Krystal as she enters the room.

“I’m going to head to bed and let you two talk.” She stops just outside the spare bedroom door. “Good night.”

We both bid her good night before she closes the door behind her. A lump forms in my throat with the thought of the questions I want so much to ask him, but I still fear that the answers may not be what I want to hear.

“Sorry about your wife,” I blurt out before I can change my mind about bringing up his painful past. Regret takes only seconds when he remains silent. Heat rises to my face, and my fingers begin to fidget with my ring.

He moves closer to me and touches my fidgeting hand until I stop, then brings my hand to his lips, applying a whisper of a kiss that causes my heart to flutter. “Beth, I was going to tell you about her that night at the hotel, but you left before I got a chance.”

“I need to ask you something,” I say reluctantly. “That woman you were with, in your hotel and the other night—”

“Is my sister,” he interrupts.

“Oh. So what about the blond woman in your bed?”

“Blond woman,” he mouths in confusion before laughing. “You must mean my nieces, Emma and Kayla. They had a ball that night in the Jacuzzi, made a big mess, which is why I needed more towels. Then they crashed out in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake the little buggers, so the girls stayed the night and my sister Aubrey came and got them the next morning.”

Every word this man speaks makes me fall harder for him. I just stare at him in awe.

“You’re not going to rat me out to the hotel authorities for having extra guests in my room are you?”

We both laugh.

A wave of regret for not hearing him out that night grabs ahold of me. “I thought you and Aubrey …”

“Yeah, I kind of figured you might have,” he says. “My sister was having rough day, and I knew if I didn’t answer her call, she would just keep calling me back.”

He takes my hands in his. The warmth of my hands in his makes me feel protected, and I can’t help but wish for him to bring me in tight to his chest to comfort me further.

He continues, “I can’t deny that losing my wife has been the hardest thing I’ve had to face, but it is in the past. She will never leave my mind completely, but I really do want to move on with my life. Right now, I just want to focus on you getting better.” He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I wish I would have followed you to your car that night so none of this would have happened to you.”

“Marshall, no. Please don’t say that. None of this is your fault.”

His pained eyes stare into mine, making my heart hurt. “I just can’t help but want to take care of you.”

“Were you in my hospital room the night of my attack?” I ask, praying that it wasn’t a dream, that I didn’t imagine it.

His uncertain eyes stare intently at me. “I was. Krystal told the nurses I was your fiancé so they’d let me in. I hope it’s okay. I just needed to see for myself that you were okay.”

I’m reminded of the sense of ease I’d felt that night in the hospital, and I feel a sudden need to keep him near me.

“That’s fine,” I say, holding back the desire I have to ask him to stay here tonight so I can feel safe and cared for. I’d known I was safe when I stayed at my parents’ the past two days, but there is just something about being near Marshall that makes my fears diminish.

We are silent for several seconds before he leans forward. “I should get going and let you get some rest. Unless there’s anything else you want to ask me?”

I don’t want him to go. I need him here. Fear of him leaving overwhelms me, and the words leave my tongue. “Please don’t go. Stay here tonight.”

Why doesn’t the thought of this bother me, after what just happened to me? I should never trust any man I don’t know really well. Why do I feel like Marshall is the key to my sanity? Have I gone bat-shit crazy?
His pained expression is unnerving.
What the heck must he think of me? After what I just went through, now I just ask him to sleep over?

“I mean, it’s getting late, and you may just want to crash here. This couch is really comfortable … and I have extra blankets and pillows … if you want to stay.” My face burns with humiliation as I stumble over my words, wishing I could take back my invite.

He smiles at me, looking mildly amused. “If you want me to stay, I’d be happy to. I have no problem sleeping here on the couch.”

“I’ll grab you some blankets and a pillow.” I get up and head to the hallway closet, struck by the stupidity of asking a tall man to sleep on a couch when he has a king-sized luxury bed waiting for him only five miles away.

As I grab for the bedding, he comes up behind me, placing his hands gently on my hips, causing an instant fire in my belly.

“Here. Let me get those. You need to be taking it easy, remember?”

While Marshall fixes the couch, I grab the new toothbrush I got after getting my teeth cleaned last week and the mini toothpaste that came with it and bring them to the guest bathroom. I show him to the bathroom before walking to my room. I’m pleasantly surprised when he walks me to my bedroom doorway and wishes me good-night with a soft kiss followed by a whisper in my ear.

“Sleep well, beautiful. I’m not far away if you need me.”

I want to tell him I need him to hold me. I need him to be next to me. I stand there, staring at the door, searching for an excuse to get him to stay and to give him the opportunity to kiss me one more time.

I brush my teeth and struggle into my pajamas before heading to my bed. I find myself staring at the doorway, playing with the idea of claiming that I need something so I can see him as long as possible.
Can I just go out and ask him to come hold me, comfort me, and just stay close to me so I don’t feel afraid?

Fear of rejection wins. I lie flat on my back, my gaze up at the ceiling, although I can hardly see a thing since my room is so dark. My imagination swirls as I envision his soft lips all over me, his strong hands floating across my body, and his warm breath all over me. Any more of those thoughts and I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Many more moments pass before the thought of him walking in on me pleasuring myself (a thought I have had before) flows into my mind only to turn me on even more. I get up out of bed and head to my bathroom to splash cold water on my face and get a grip before I head back to bed. I pull the covers up to my neck and force my eyes closed, hoping to sleep away the twisted and foolish thought that somehow sex with Marshall will make all my fear, worry, and pain just go away.

The clock reads 1:08 a.m. when I’m awakened by the pain in my shoulder. I whimper as I roll to my other side, relieving the stinging pain that shoots to my fingertips. I have kicked off all of my covers and am shivering with cold. I pull the cover back up over me and settle in before the hallway light turns on.

“Beth?” Marshall speaks softly.

“Hmm?” I moan.

“I thought I heard a noise. You okay?”

“I’m all right,” I say, only to regret it.

“Do you need anything?”

Yes. You.

“I’m okay.”

“All right then. Good-night.” I hear the hallway floor creak as he turns.

“Marshall,” I exclaim before I even know what I want to say. My back is turned to the door.

He stops, and I hear his footsteps coming farther into the room. “Yes, Beth?”

I shift to my back, but I don’t look at him as I search for the right words.

“What is it?” He comes over to the bed and sits.

At last, I find the courage to look over at him. The light from the hallway paints perfect highlights onto his chiseled cheekbones and jawline, causing any chill I may have to turn to fire.

A look of concern washes over his face, making me long to run my fingers over its perfection.

I sit myself up on my elbow. “I was wondering … if maybe …” I take a deep breath. “Well, you’re just so tall, and the sofa really can’t be very comfortable, so if you wanted to”—I have to look away from him to finish—“sleep in here with me, it would be okay.”

He says nothing and turns his head toward the door, so I can’t see his face to read it.

“It’s just that being alone doesn’t feel very good right now. The bed is big enough that we can both keep to our own sides. It’s all right if you don’t want to.” I’m officially panicked for asking him. “I’m sorry I asked.”

His head snaps back to look at me, and he places his finger gently to my lips to stop me from rambling. “Relax. I want more than anything to stay in here with you, Beth. I’m just not sure if it’s the best idea, given everything you’ve just been through.”

We both look intently at each other.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please don’t go back out there.” I take his hand and begin to lie down, relieved that he follows suit. I can hear his breath accelerate, just the way mine has, as he positions himself behind me along the contours of my body. I adjust myself farther back into him and pull his arm tighter around me. His heaving chest is against my back.

“I thought you said we would be sleeping on our own sides.” His mouth is so close that his lips brush my ear as he speaks. I close my eyes, hypersensitive to every solid inch of him that is touching me.

“I need you next to me.”

I turn my head back toward him, and he kisses my cheek and the corner of my mouth. He pulls me in tighter as I settle my head back down on my pillow. I have never fallen asleep in any man’s arms—I can never seem to get settled—but in this moment, I don’t care if I have to stay up all night, just so I never have to feel Marshall let go. His breath begins to slow, and I’m sure he’s asleep. I have never felt so safe, so whole. Oddly enough, I feel loved. I wish I could feel like this forever.

***

Wednesday, June 9

I have never been much for cuddling, but I have also never shared a bed with someone who makes me feel the way Marshall does, either. I have been lying here awake for nearly a half hour after one of the best nights of sleep I ever recall having. He is still holding me, and neither of us has moved. I wonder if he is awake, and I can’t help but wonder if he’d had any of the same thoughts I did as I drifted off to sleep last night. There wasn’t a single dirty thought I could come up with that I hadn’t thought of lying there in his arms.

I decide to head to the kitchen and make us some breakfast. I slowly wiggle out from beneath his arm, but my actions aren’t as smooth as I’d hoped. He is still sound asleep. I wonder how little sleep this man must be running on. The attack was five days ago, and the worry he must have felt going through something even remotely close to what he has been through with his wife must have been so hard on him.

I watch the rise and fall of his chest, stare at the strong biceps that had only seconds ago been wrapped around me, and bask in the fullness of the lips that had kissed mine so gently last night and with so much longing and hunger only a few weeks ago.

What is this man doing to me? I’ve just begun to scratch the surface of who Marshall really is, so it can’t be love. I don’t know what you call this feeling I’m having, but I sure as hell don’t want it ever to go away. It’s a million miles from anything I ever felt with Gavin.

If my head wasn’t still sore, I would be skipping on my way to the kitchen instead of walking. I’m so elated. Marshall confessed that I have been on his mind ever since the first time he saw me. He remembered a flower I said I liked. Good God, do you know what that does to a girl? Cloud nine doesn’t come close to the way I feel at this very moment. I couldn’t have imagined he would have taken a second look at me, let alone have me on his mind since he first laid eyes on me. This all seems too good to be true, but if it doesn’t work out, I would rather have Marshall for a little while than never at all. I can’t wait until I have healed and he won’t need to feel like he has to be so careful with me anymore.

I pop what I hope to be the very last pain pill I will ever need and munch on a few crackers before I start on breakfast. I have no idea what’s in the fridge since my mom and Rose stocked it yesterday morning. I’m not sure what Marshall likes for breakfast, so I decide on French toast, scrambled eggs, and fresh cantaloupe.

Krystal comes into the kitchen, shuffling her feet and yawning. “What’s with the couch?” she asks.

“Marshall stayed over last night.” My smile must be a mile wide.

She looks stunned. “Well, where is he now?”

“In my bed.”

“Well, you little vixen, you.”

“Nothing happened, so chill out. Want some breakfast?” I ask.

“Actually, if you’re okay here, I may just head home and get some more sleep before work.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“So he calls you Beth, huh?”

“Yes, and I love it.”

Krystal rolls her eyes and laughs. “Well, enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

I pull up my acoustic morning music mix, which includes Jamestown Revival, the band Peter had recommended. I absolutely love it, so pop my phone onto the speaker dock and keep the sound low so I won’t wake my sleeping prince.

I sing along to “California” and sway to the rhythm. My kitchen is lit brightly with morning sun, and the wonderful aroma of coffee greets my nose as I begin to cut up the cantaloupe. Mornings have always been my favorite. The light of a new day, seeing the birds outside an open window, and the feeling of fresh air as it passes through the kitchen. The energy and possibilities are so fresh, alive, and vibrant.

On the deck out back, I have my patio table all set up and ready for breakfast with Marshall, so I head in to see if Marshall is up yet. I open the sliding glass door only to see my sister and mom standing right there in my kitchen.

“Wow, someone is feeling better. Why are you making breakfast?” My mom snorts. “I figured Krystal would take care of it.”

“I wanted to make breakfast, Mom. I’m fine.” How do I tell her Krystal left me alone with a man my family has never met and who I have only just begun to get to know?

“Did Krystal get a truck?” Rose chimes in.

“No.” I bite my lip to hide my grin.

Both of them freeze, waiting for me to continue.

“Did she borrow someone’s truck then?” my sister asks.

“No.” I grab the pan off the stove and turn to the sink to wash it so they can’t see my face.

“Really, Lizzie? You’re not going to fill us in?” My sister is champing at the bit for some info.

I keep on washing, enjoying making my sister sweat it out awhile.

“Is it the guy from the hotel or the bartender?” she begs.

“Elizabeth, do you think it’s a good idea to jump into a relationship after what you have just been through?” my mom scolds.

“I’m not jumping into anything, Mom.” Thankfully, the blankets and pillow are still on the sofa, so we won’t have to go there. I finish with the pan and set it down on the sink’s edge to dry before turning to face them.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but his name is Marshall, and he slept on the couch. Krystal just left a half hour ago.” I’m twenty-six. I shouldn’t really have to answer to anybody about my sex life, my nonexistent one at that.

“Is Marshall the one you’ve been eyeing up for the past two years?” Rose barely gets the words out when I hear a laugh, and in steps Marshall.

I love that he’s confident enough just to walk into the room without the slightest look of embarrassment. I can’t say the same for Rose; her cheeks are painted red. Even my mom looks rather flustered.

“Marshall, this is my mother, Addison, and my sister, Rose.”

Marshall shakes their hands. “Nice to meet you, ladies.”

As he shakes Rose’s hand, I can’t help but wonder if he finds Rose more attractive than me, like everyone else does. Thankfully, he seems unfazed by her. He turns to me.

“Good morning, Beth. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept great. How about you?”

The way he is looking at me right now is all it takes for me to blush, which totals three women blushing in my kitchen.

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

“I made us some breakfast. I hope you like French toast and scrambled eggs.” I motion out to the deck.

“I should’ve been the one making you breakfast this morning.” He touches my arm, and the look of concern in his eyes has returned.

My mom clears her throat. “You look familiar, Marshall. Have we met before?”

He was there at the hospital, so she must have noticed him at some point.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says.

I wonder if he’s just saying that to avoid any awkwardness or if he never even noticed her at the hospital.

She lets the thought go easily. “We will leave you two to your breakfast. We wanted to check on Liz before we went to get supplies for the big birthday party next weekend. You should join us next Saturday for Liz and Rose’s birthday party, Marshall.”

“I’m sure Marshall has better things to do than attend an extremely unnecessary birthday party.” I send an annoyed look her way, but she totally misses it.

“I have to head to Minneapolis for the next two weeks, but I appreciate the invite, Addison.”

“Please, call me Addie. Well, if anything changes, we live a few blocks down from the Scenic Route B&B in the yellow house on First Street. ”

“Mom, please. He said he couldn’t make it,” I retort.

My family clearly needs to be shoved out the door. “I will walk you two out. Marshall, go ahead and start without me. I’ll be out in a minute.”

They share good-byes, and we head to the foyer.

I didn’t think my grin could get any bigger, but as we make it to the front door, my sister snaps around and says to me with wide eyes, “Holy shit, Liz. He’s gorgeous.”

I look at my mom, and the flush on her cheeks is a dead giveaway that she is thinking it too. I burst into laughter at the two of them. “So it’s not only me who thinks so?”

I shut the door and lean back against it, preparing myself for what this morning, my first with Marshall, might bring.