It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (8 page)

I make it past the front desk unscathed. Melissa, whom I don’t know well, has tonight’s shift and thankfully doesn’t ask why I’m here. She just gives me wave and goes about her business. Krystal’s or Kiki’s questions as to why I’m here may have caused my courage to waiver.

My hands are shaking and my throat is scratchy and dry. My knuckles rap the door softly. I wait, but nothing. I rap again, louder this time. I begin to worry I won’t get to see him or talk to him before he heads back home tomorrow. And I don’t know when he will be back again. Damn, why on earth hadn’t I looked at the books to find out? I know why: because I would have chickened out.

The door opens to a surprised-looking Marshall, causing me to take a step back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,” I say as I begin to step sideways.

“No, Elizabeth, please don’t go.” He reaches out to grab my arm. “I’ve been considering stopping by your place all day.”

“Well, why didn’t you then?” The harshness of my question surprises us both.

“Please come in, and let’s talk.”

He directs me to have a seat upon the sofa and sits down next to me.

“I want to apologize for last night. I know I acted strange. I haven’t dated in awhile, and I guess I just … well, to be honest, I sort of panicked.”

I’m not sure what surprises me more, that he
claims
he hasn’t dated in a long time or that
he
would ever panic. Honesty is not something I’m familiar with. I don’t think Gavin was honest with me (or himself) the whole time we were together. How do I know Marshall’s not just saying this to get what he wants?

“Well, I figure it was someone you saw in the parking lot that made you act so weird, like you didn’t want to be seen with me. Someone like a girlfriend or …” I stop myself from saying “wife,” afraid if I say it, it might make it true somehow.

“I suppose that’s how it looked.” He pauses as if to choose his words carefully. “The sister of someone from my past was in the group passing by, and I”—again he carefully searches for his words—“I wasn’t prepared to have her see me … in that way.”

“What? Having a great time with someone? Do you still have feelings for this girl? Is that it?”

“It’s kind of complicated, Elizabeth. I will always have feelings for her, but it’s … over and will remain so.”

“I’m sorry, Marshall,” I say, holding my hands up. “It’s really not my business.” I suddenly feel ridiculous for coming, for having an exchange that sounds a bit more like a conversation between two people who have been dating for a while. It was one date. I’m acting nuts.

“Beth.” He leans forward and places a warm hand on my cheek, turning my face to meet his. “I need to move on, and I really would like to get to know you better.”

Beth. No one has ever called me Beth, and I have to say, I love how it sounds coming from his lips.

He tips my chin and looks into my eyes. “It’s in my past, and I’m hoping my future has a beautiful redhead in it. It’s been a really long time since I felt this way about anyone.”

I’m a sucker for his words, wanting like hell to believe them. How can I let myself do this again? I have believed kind words from Tanner and Gavin, and they turned out to be just that—words—empty promises leading to a broken heart. Can I really let myself believe him? I surely want to.

His lips meet mine, and I don’t pull away, even though my subconscious is barking at me to do so. I want so much for every bit of this, kissing Marshall, having him look into my eyes the way he does with that deep-seated fire, and having him care for me the way he did on Lakeside Trail.

Our kiss only lasts a few seconds this time, much to my disappointment. What this man does to me when I’m near him makes me forget to protect my heart, makes me forget that it will most likely be broken. I want him. I want him so badly in that moment that I don’t even care if my integrity is being compromised.

“When do you leave for Minneapolis?” I say, shaking myself back to the moment.

“I have a morning meeting here at nine, and I will take off from there.”

“Oh,” I say, with obvious disappointment in my tone.

“I’ll be back again in less than two weeks, but I do have twelve hours before my meeting. We could use some of that time to get to know each other.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “What did you have in mind?” I sputter nervously.

Marshall stands and reaches for my hand, pulling me up from the bed. I wonder if he will suggest we get into the Jacuzzi like he had the other night with Miss Mile-Long Legs and the one in his bed. Or will he just get right to it here and now? His eyes look me over briefly. He begins to speak, but a reluctant sigh leaves his smiling lips instead. I long to know what he’s thinking. His grip tightens on my hand as he pulls me in, again meeting my lips with his. Our kiss is deeper this time, his tongue dancing with mine. He stops and rests his forehead on mine. Our heavy breathing is the only sound in the room for several long moments before he suggests we head out onto the balcony.

The night is calm, and the moon is nothing but a slit, making the stars appear extra bright. We each take a seat on the cushioned bench. Marshall sits sideways facing me, resting his elbow on the back of the bench. “I want you to know that I had a really good time last night.”

True or not, his sweet confession makes me smile. “I did too.”

“So how was your day?” he asks.

“Well, I started out my day with a run.” I roll my shoulders back, realizing the immense tension I’ve been carrying all day. “Did some grocery shopping. And the usual Sunday dinner at my parents’. How about you?”

“You have dinner with your parents every Sunday?” He looks amused.

“Well, most Sundays.”

“Your family is close then?”

I can see he likes this bit of information. “Well, yes, I would say we’re pretty close. Are you close to your family?”

“My parents split when I was four. My mom moved to California with my older brother while my sister and I stayed here with my dad. He was remarried twenty-five years ago to my stepmom. I have a stepsister too. My Minnesota family is close.”

The crisp air gives me goosebumps, but it feels oh so good.

“You getting chilly, Beth? Want to head in?”

“I’m fine. It’s such a beautiful night,” I say, looking out over the water.

He moves in closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Does this help?”

“Mmm. Sure does.” The excitement makes my goosebumps double in size. I feel his warm breath near my ear.

“You smell so good.” His voice whispers in my ear.

I forget that questions still remain about last night. I tilt my head to the side, and his mouth again closes over mine. We can’t seem to get in too much conversation before the attraction we feel for one another takes over. His warm hand grabs ahold of my waist, relaxing me deeper into our embrace. My hand travels to his chest. His solid pecks are hard under my hand, and the rapid acceleration of his heartbeat makes me shiver with need. I fully give in to the soft swipes of his tongue, melting into him. My desire for this man is so deep I need to have him, but I need to say this. I pull away. “Marshall this is … is—”

“Going too fast.” He finishes my sentence.

But no, that’s not it. I wanted to tell him how this feels so great and somehow boldly state my desire for him. Yet once again, I am astounded by how he can be so very passionate, nearly primal one moment, but in the next breath, he’s a true gentleman. I realize I’m staring at him. I have no words.

We look at each other for seconds, maybe minutes—I don’t know how long—before he says, “Beth, there’s something about me you need to know.” He lowers his gaze.

My heart sinks.
Oh, God, no. Please no. Don’t say you’re in a relationship.
Does he want me to join a swingers club? What if he’s gay? Heck no, not the way I’ve seen him look at me.

“You’re cold. Let’s go in and talk. Or I’ll go get the comforter off the bed?”

“Let’s stay out,” I suggest, knowing the cold air is keeping my head clear and keeping me from attacking him like a wild cat. The luxurious Lakeview Penthouse bed looks quite warm, and being wrapped up in it with him is exactly what I want, but I want to hear him out. I want to know if what I plan to do with Marshall is going to be something I can live with when it’s all over.

He heads in to grab us a blanket, leaving me with my head swirling and my body trembling with fear of what’s to come. Or perhaps it’s just the cool night air—I’m not sure which.

A buzzing sound coming from the spot next to me that he vacated only seconds ago beckons my attention. His phone must have fallen from his pocket. I don’t mean to be nosy, but I catch a glimpse of the name on the phone. It’s Aubrey. It’s her, the beautiful blond who was here the other night, Miss Mile-Long Legs. I swallow hard.

“Marshall, your phone is buzzing,” I tell him reluctantly. He steps out onto the balcony and looks down at the rattling phone. I pray he won’t answer.

“Sorry. I’ve got to get this.” He hands me the blanket and heads back into the room. In a hushed voice, right before he heads into the bathroom, I can hear him say, “Do you need me to come over?”

Shaking with frustration and disappointment, I decide that’s my cue to leave. I can’t compete with her. I’m better than just a name on his list of “beautiful ladies.”
Get out now, before he gets the chance to break your heart.

I head quickly out the door and to the elevator, nervously spinning my ring. How on earth did I think I could do this? Be the other woman. Be that new notch on his bedpost. I’m lightheaded as I lean my shoulder against the elevator wall. My name echoes down the hallway. I can’t look at him. He can’t see the pale, heartbroken face that looks back at me in the mirrored elevator wall. With three hard stabs, I hit the door-close button, and down I go, clutching my chest. I run as fast as I can to my car before any of my coworkers have a chance to see me

Monday, May 24

I fully intend to spend my entire shift on paperwork, hidden away from yesterday, so it’s a good thing that Kiki is still at her wicked mother-in-law’s (well, not so good for her) and that Krystal has the front desk covered.

“Someone is here to see you.” Krystal grins, peeking her head around the office door.

“I told you I didn’t want to see him,” I say, shaking my head before resting it on my hand, elbow unsteady on the desk. The thought of him standing outside that door, waiting for me to come out, churns my stomach. It’s just after eight, so he hasn’t left for his morning meeting yet.

Krystal looks back, putting one finger up. “It will be just a second,” she says before walking into the office.

“It’s not Marshall, Lizzie. It’s Peter. You think the boys will duke it out for you? Who do you think would win?” Her amusement triggers my frustration.

I shake my head at her and rise from the office chair. I haven’t told Krystal what happened last night, only that I wasn’t sure if it was going to work with Marshall, him living in Minneapolis and only visiting Duluth every couple of weeks. I figure it would be best to cut my ties with him now. What little ties there are. I can’t deny the fiery passion and the strange sense of connection I felt so quickly for someone I hardly know. I need to get my mind off of him, and Peter might be exactly what I need.

“I hoped I’d find you here.” He props his elbow on the front desk in what I’d imagine is his attempt to look GQ.

“Oh, was I missing?” My humor attempt is a slam dunk, as he tips his head back and laughs.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink or dinner tonight.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Marshall entering the lobby. I make my way around the desk so I’m face-to-face with Peter, doing my best to pretend I don’t see Marshall and feeling like a child while I do so.

“Where were you thinking?” I ask, trying to keep my composure.

“Wherever you want to go.”

“How about Blackwater Lounge?” I suggest, knowing Marshall is within earshot. “I hear they have really great martinis.”

I can no longer avoid looking at Marshall since he is at Peter’s side.

Peter looks over too. “Hey, Marshall, have you met Elizabeth?” Peter then turns to me. “Elizabeth, this is my cousin’s partner, Marshall. Remember I told you they own the absinthe distillery I work for?”

My eyes grow big as I look over at Marshall.

So he isn’t Peter’s cousin … which means he’s the one who is married. Oh, this is much worse than his having a girlfriend. So is Aubrey his girlfriend and Sweet Sarah his wife? I had convinced myself that he couldn’t be married, that if he were married, it must be rocky at best since he doesn’t wear a ring. The part of me that didn’t care either way as long as I could have him rises in my throat. Feeling dizzy, I stagger back a step. I nervously look down at my hands where a tight grip on my ring has whitened my knuckles. I feel like I’m going to go down any minute.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, placing a hand my shoulder. “You look a little pale.”

I look up but can’t bring myself to look over at Marshall.

What was his plan last night? To tell me he was married? And what? Did he expect me to be okay with it? What kind of person does he take me for?

“Sure, Peter, I would love to go out on a date with you again, and I am free tonight,” I say, knowing very well I will regret it later.

“Great. Write down your number and I’ll call you when I get off work at five, and we can figure out the details.”

As I write down my number, I can feel Marshall’s eyes on me. I hand the paper to Peter with a forced smile.

This clearly rattles Marshall. He moves closer to me and takes hold of my wrist.

“Why did you leave last night?” A sorrow set deep in his baby blues looks back at me.

I shake off his grip. “You sorry excuse for a man, you don’t deserve an answer. What do you take me for? A complete idiot?” My shock and horror turns quickly to anger. I glance over at Peter, whose face drops as he takes several steps back, clearly struck by my words.

“Whoa, where did that come from, Beth? What did I do?” Marshall says as he winces.

“You have some nerve,” I spit. I turn to say, “I look forward to hearing from you later, Peter.” I manage a smile, but it’s miles from reciprocated. I head into the office, and I’m trapped in here with no other exit.

Marshall comes into the office. “Beth, I really want to talk to you.”

“You’re not allowed back here. Plus I have no interest in anything you have to say.”

“Please give me a chance to talk to you.” His face is red with embarrassment, but his eyes blaze with urgency.

I slow down for just a second as I consider letting him talk. I keep my back to him, covering my face with my hands and trying to steady my breath in the heavy air of our silence. I’d asked him if he thought I was an idiot, and the fact of the matter is, I am. I can’t do this. I can’t be with a married man. As much as I long to be touched by him, it’s the sting of knowing what I was willing to do that strikes my heart. How naïve of me to think he may have actually been interested in more than just sex. I wanted so badly for every one of his sweet words to be honest.

“I think it’s best if you leave.” The words sting as they pass over my lips.

I hear him take a deep breath. “All right” is all he says, then he’s gone.