It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (18 page)

I do, and it turns me on even more. I rock against my hand.

“Oh, God, Beth, I can see you when I close my eyes, and you are so perfect. Now speed it up and tell me how it feels.”

“Oh, fuck,” I nearly yell. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Hit it, baby, hit it hard!”

His voice sends me over the edge in a violent, jolting, cosmic orgasm that waves through every inch of my being. I’m smiling so big now that there is no way he can’t hear it. I relax my back down to the bed with a sigh.

“How do you feel now, baby?” His voice is sexy, laced with pride in his accomplishment. We both know who had the upper hand last, and I’m delighted it was him.

I close my eyes tight and imagine the sexy dimple on his chin. “Like I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

Friday, July 2

Today is my last day at Beacon Pointe, then I’m off to Minneapolis to see Marshall.

“Boo!” Krystal peeks into the hotel office, making me scream.

“You looked pretty deep in thought there, Lizzie.”

I look up at her. She looks different. There’s a sparkle in her eyes and a rosiness to her cheeks. She is usually happy, but this is different. I stand up from the office desk and walk around it to be face-to-face with her.

“Wow, what or who put that glow on your face?” I ask her.

“I could ask you the same question, but isn’t Marshall in Minneapolis?”

I feel my face flush with excitement at the idea of it being my turn to share a dirty little secret for once.

“Yes, he’s in Minneapolis.” I grin devilishly. “But last night’s phone conversation—well, let’s just say it was one I will never forget.”

“Damn, my girl is growing up,” Krystal says as she sniffles and wipes away an imaginary tear. “I can’t even claim that one.”

“No way. I have one on you now?”

She smiles and winks. “Sure do.”

“Now what’s your news?” I ask.

“You might want to sit down for this one.” She laughs and shifts her body in a very un-Krystal way. “Well, I have been going out with a new guy this past week, and I guess I’m just really happy.”

“So it’s the spankings and being tied up that’s got you glowing?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” she says with a quick glance down at the floor.

“Okay, whips and chains then?”

“Well, that’s the crazy thing. He’s nothing like any other guy I’ve ever dated.”

She’s reluctant, and I’m dying to know why. “And?”

“I actually haven’t even slept with him.”

Is she blushing? Yep— I think I do spot a hint of rose. Note the date and time. When did she meet this guy?

“All right, girl, spill it.”

She smiles so big I think she may split her lip. “It’s Parker.”

“What? Very funny, Krystal. No, really, who is it?”

“You must be rubbing off on me, Lizzie, because I got me a pretty boy.”

“You’re telling me the guy we met last Friday, the one who brought along that eighties’ throwback, Gloria, can actually keep it in his pants?”

She shoots me a scrunched-up smile. “Do you think I would claim something so … blah if it wasn’t the truth?”

“You and Parker. Never would have guessed it. But I did sense something between you two last Friday.”

“With both of our histories, we decided it might be best to do things different—but God, it’s killing me.”

I shake my head, bemused for a few seconds.

“I’m still riding on the hope that he’ll be an angel by day and a devil by night.”

“There it is. You were starting to scare me, Krystal.” I couldn’t be happier for my friend in this moment. Her face is beaming with joy. She deserves this happiness.

***

“Your destination is on the right,” blares the often-annoying voice of the GPS lady. Today, the voice is more of a comfort. She has informed me that I’m here, at Marshall’s home, the place I have been eagerly looking forward to being in all week. It’s a cute charcoal-gray house with brick details, a black door, and black shutters.

I text Marshall, telling him I’m here, then shove my phone into my purse and head to the backseat for my duffel bag. The bag had slid down behind the passenger seat when some asshole cut in front of me, causing me to swerve to the right to dodge his bumper. Since I was in a great mood, I blew it off and refrained from flicking him off.

I crawl across the seat and grab my pink duffel bag handle, and as I do, something dark catches my eye. I slowly turn my attention to it—two blood-stained fingerprints on the side of the driver’s seat. I freeze, flashing back to the fear for my life. They look too big to be mine, but I need to know. I slowly bring my fingers up to the prints. Careful not to touch them, I hover my fingers over the stain. Clearly, these are not from my fingers. They are his prints, painted with blood, possibly my blood. He’s left a mark not only in my memory, but also in my car. A sudden jolt of fear consumes me as a hand touches my hip. I scream and frantically pull my whole body into the car, thrashing around as I bring myself up to a seated position.

“Beth, it’s me.”

I still, looking at Marshall’s face, but a verbal response is impossible.

“Baby, it’s me.” He climbs into the car, looking scared to death and unsure what to do. He searches for my eyes, and when he finds them, his are glossy and anguished. “Beth, honey, are you okay? I’m so sorry I scared you.” He scoops me up into his arms. His hand strokes my hair as I sit trembling and weeping in his arms.

After several moments, I sit back to look at him, the pain in his eyes making my heart hurt.

He places a hand on my cheek. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“Oh, Marshall, it wasn’t just that. It started when I saw that.” I point to the spot on the seat. “They’re his prints stained in blood.” I look away, burying my face in his chest, not wanting to look another second. His heart is pounding hard, and his body is rigid under my hands and face.

Moments pass before he relaxes slightly. “Let’s get you out of this car and into the house.” He shifts over in the seat, holding my head tight against his chest so there’s no chance I will catch sight of the prints again. My feet touch the pavement as he rises to stand, still holding me tight. “You okay, baby? I’m going to let go and grab your bag, okay?”

“I’m fine, Marshall. It’s okay.” I do my best to smile at him, but the hard ball in the pit of my stomach won’t allow it.

He grabs my bag and purse, then takes my hand. I feel the blow of the car door rattling in its hinges as he throws it into place, clearly letting off some steam.

He drops my bag just inside the door as we step over the threshold, then scoops me up in his arms. I bury my face in his neck. He carries me up some stairs and down a long hallway before pulling down the covers and gently lowering me onto the bed.

I’m a bit surprised he is so eager to have me that he can’t let me recover awhile first. He crawls in behind me, pulling the covers up over us and simply holding me there. He holds me for the longest time, and it is just what I need right now. It is the sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced. The warmth of our bodies through our clothes is great, but skin on skin would be so much better.

“Marshall,” I whisper. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”

“Beth, that’s not why I brought you up here. I just planned to hold you, comfort you.”

“And you’re doing just that. But I need to feel closer to you. I want to feel your skin against mine,” I breathe.

I reach for the bottom corners of his shirt.

He takes my wrist. “Please, Beth, let me do this.”

His motions are soft and graceful as he removes everything but my bra and panties, and then I watch as he strips down to his briefs. He lowers back down onto the bed and slides back in behind me. Flesh on flesh, breath for breath, legs and arms tangled. It works like magic, and we both drift off to sleep.

***

A soft golden light fills his room as I awaken. His warm body is still wrapped around mine. I hardly move, and he is up on one elbow, looking down at me.

“How are you feeling?” Worry is still ragged in his voice.

“So much better. You gave me just what I needed.” I place a soothing hand along his chiseled jaw.

He gets up from the bed and scoops up my clothes, setting them next to me. He kisses my forehead. “I’ll go get your bag.” He disappears out the door.

Getting dressed, I let my eyes wander around his room. The room décor has me wondering if it’s his taste or if this was her design. Was this the room they had shared, the home they had shared? Did he move after her death? All of a sudden, I feel uncomfortable and out of place. I need to get out of this room. I head down the hallway and slip into the bathroom.

Marshall calls to me from outside the door. “Beth, do you need your bag, or should I put it in the bedroom?”

“The bedroom’s fine.” I feel a twinge of guilt for feeling jealous, even if only for a minute, of a woman who was taken too early from this earth, who suffered needlessly for months, who will no longer get to be wrapped in the loving comfort of such a strong, selfless creature as Marshall Roderick. Why should I get to have this, this thing with Marshall that feels so good?

“Just head downstairs when you’re finished, okay, Beth?”

“Okay.” I glance in the mirror, and after one look at my swollen eyes, I wish I had my bag.

I know I need to fill Marshall in on my visit from Detective Damico and the article, but I just want a little more time to feel like my life wasn’t flipped upside down. Marshall has been through too much, and I need to protect him from pain. This is my pain to deal with.

As I descend the stairway, a large black-and-white framed image captures my attention. It takes up a good portion of the wall. Marshall and two little blond-haired girls—they must be his nieces—are frozen in motion. Marshall’s arms are wrapped around them, and he has such a look of joy on his face it almost hurts my heart. The younger girl has a hose in her hand with water spouting from it. All of them are soaking wet and laughing hysterically. It’s one of the most beautiful images I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but wonder what kind of father he would be. If I had to take a guess off this picture alone, I’d say he would be the perfect dad.

Marshall’s distant voice arrests my attention. “I’m aware that you don’t typically pick up the cars you detail, but I need you to make an exception. My girlfriend’s car needs to be cleaned thoroughly. I can take my business elsewhere if—”

I feel like a love-stricken teenager when I hear him call me his girlfriend.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Yes, the works. I need every inch of that car scrubbed clean.” He finishes up when I reach his side in his kitchen. “Hold on,” he says into the phone before he pulls it away from his ear. “Beth, what’s your keyless entry code?”

“It doesn’t work. Been broken for months.”

Perplexed, he puts the phone back to his ear. “I’ll leave the keys on top of the passenger-side front tire. Thanks for helping me out, Roger,” he says into the phone. This Roger must be someone he knows since it’s well after normal business hours. Makes me wonder what other kinds of connections Marshall has.

He hangs up, then clutches me in a hug. “Well, I hadn’t intended for the two of us to nap so long. I have some filet mignon marinating in the fridge. I can fire up the grill now if you’re hungry.”

“That would be great, but Marshall, you don’t need to have my car—”

He puts up a hand. “Yes, Beth, I do, and you’re not going to argue with me on this, either.”

I can’t help but smile. I want to argue with him, but it just feels so good to have someone take care of you. I kiss him and bite his lower lip. “Well, thank you. It’s very sweet of you.”

“What I should really do is have Roger tow it away. I could take you to get something else tomorrow.” He shakes his head, bringing his gaze to the floor.

“Marshall, I like my car. Plus, I can’t afford anything else, not with quitting my job and not knowing how steady my income will be. She has a few more good years in her.”

“I just don’t like it, Beth.” He turns and grabs the steaks from the fridge and sets them on the counter. “Will you go grab me your keys while I start the grill?”

***

I bring in the last of the contents from the patio where I had enjoyed the best piece of steak I have ever had in my life. Marshall knows his food and drink, a quality I find extremely sexy. He let me choose the wine from his wine rack, a 2005 from Damselfly Vineyards, which Marshall said is one of his favorites and that I really enjoyed.

I watch him as he moves around the kitchen, drying the last pan and wiping down the counter, before I approach him with the question weighing on my mind.

“Marshall, can I ask you something?”

He drops the towel onto the counter and turns to me. “Of course you can.” He takes a step closer to me, no doubt sensing my apprehension.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.” I suddenly wonder if I need to know. Does it really matter? Will I be fine with any answer he gives me?

“Beth, I have nothing to hide. Ask me anything?”

“Is this the house”—I shift my weight to my other leg—“you shared with your wife?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“And the shed?” I motion toward the backyard with my head.

“Yes.”

Shit, now what? What do I do with this? What do I say?
I shift nervously to the other hip. “Isn’t it hard for you to be in this house?”

“Well, at first it was, but as time went by, some of the memories began to fade, and well, it just gets easier. Certain things will trigger a memory, I’d imagine, for the rest of my life, but she would want me to move on, and I want to move on. A new house just never felt like the answer.”

“Does it feel weird to have me here?”

“I wasn’t totally sure how I was going to feel with you here, but what I realize now is that having you here is actually really good for me. I finally feel like I can get past all of this and have a normal future…” He stops, leaving it feeling unfinished, and I wonder what it is he didn’t say.

“You know you can ask me anything you want about my past, too, if you want,” I offer, even though I know I have nothing interesting to tell.

He takes my hands where I’m twirling my ring and raises them above me, stepping me back and pinning them to the wall. “If you haven’t noticed, Beth, I have quite a thing for you. Your past relationships don’t even matter anymore, just the here and now. I don’t care what road led you here, led you to me, and molded you into the beautiful woman standing here before me. All I know is that who you are is perfect.”

I’m just a redheaded girl with a mundane life, hoping to go places, hoping to belong, hoping to make her mark. I have so little to offer him. How he doesn’t see that or doesn’t seem to care, I don’t know, but in this moment, I want to give him all of me, my heart, my soul, my body. I need to feel his desire both inside and out. I need him to take me somewhere that has been out of reach in the past.