“Elizabeth.”
I jump, startled because I didn’t realize he was in the car with me already.
“Stop thinking.”
“It’s your fault.”
He frowns, and I regret placing the blame on him. Marc backs out of my driveway. “Tell me what not to do to help then.” His voice is so soft, it nearly sounds broken. It’s like I hit him and screamed that it was seriously his fault.
Now, I feel worse.
“Nothing. It’s not really your fault, Marco Polo.” A slight smile appears as I use his nickname. “It’s just a different battle when you’re here. I’ll stop thinking so much once you start making me have fun.”
His smile widens. “You like me.”
“I’m not admitting that.”
He laughs. “That’s okay. I’ll get it out of you eventually.” Thankfully, he lets it go. “How was your day?”
“Just the average exciting day of a bank teller.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back to school? What’s your passion anyway?”
“No, I don’t think I’ll ever go back.” I stop, thinking of how the last time I discussed my passion, it was with Roger. I have the sudden yearning to do what I haven’t even thought about since he died. “I...” I take a deep breath. “I loved to bake cakes and decorate them. I used to want to open my own cake shop. I haven’t even had cake in nearly six years.”
“You don’t want to do that anymore?” Marc asks quietly.
“No. I haven’t thought about it for a long time.”
“Noah and Meredith are looking forward to seeing you again.”
I laugh a little. “Why? They barely know me.”
“Exactly.”
“Why do you owe them a dinner anyway?” I ask, remembering that’s why they’re going to be there.
He shrugs. “I lost a race.” He pulls into a restaurant’s parking lot and parks. I start getting nervous as we head inside, but Marc hooks his arm around my neck, letting his forearm dangle down my chest and tucks me into his side. “It’ll be fun,” he tells me quietly before we’re greeted by the hostess. “We’re meeting the Ramsey party,” he says to her.
She nods and leads us to a booth where Noah and Meredith are already seated. Meredith still looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why. Marc motions for me to slide in first, so I do. I give them an awkward little wave. They smile.
“He hasn’t run you off yet?” Noah asks.
I laugh. “He has. The problem is he keeps chasing after me.”
Marc nudges my shoulder with his. “You can’t hurt my feelings in front of my friends.”
I try not to laugh and shrug. “Sorry.”
A waitress appears to take our drink orders and we’re thankfully silent for a little bit while we look over the menu. Marc points out things here and there that he’s tried and liked before, some things he recommends staying away from, and the one thing he loved, which was a pasta dish. He smiles a little too much when I end up ordering the pasta.
“How long have y’all known this loon?” I nod toward Marc.
“I’ve known him for a few years, but Mere only met him a few months ago.”
“What do you do?” I ask Meredith.
“I’m an assistant tennis coach at a local high school, and I recently retired from playing tennis professionally.”
My eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re Meredith Quick! That’s why you’ve looked familiar. I loved playing tennis in high school and was going to play in college, but never did. I followed your career. I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were you!” Damn. I’ve been sitting with tennis royalty and didn’t even know it! She dropped off the face of the earth after her injury and breakup with Vance Powers, who I’ve always thought was a prick and I’ve never met him.
“It’s okay,” Meredith laughs a little.
“How did you meet Noah?”
“They’re high school sweethearts,” Marc answers for her.
Those words unexpectedly hit me hard. I loathe the moments when grief decides to attack me in such innocent ways. Roger and I were high school sweethearts. My mind is thrown back in time to prom night for some reason. Roger was so handsome in his suit. He loved me in green, so my dress was green. Most high school boys were full of self-confidence or awkwardness on the dance floor. Roger, he just held me close for the slow songs and watched me from the sidelines while I danced with my friends on the faster paced songs.
That was the night, as we swayed to the music, that he told me his plan for us. How he wanted to get married before we started college, how he wanted us to find an apartment of our own, and how we were going to spend our life together. He told me every detail and how he was going to make it happen.
“Elizabeth,” Marc snaps sternly, squeezing my hand. Those blue eyes are full of concern and worry. “You okay?” he asks quietly.
I flick my gaze across the table at Noah and Meredith who are both watching me. A large lump settles in my throat. What am I doing here? My life with Roger wasn’t perfect by any means, but we were perfect for one another. How do I let that go, even a little bit to be around Marc? How can anything else ever compare? Sure, there’s chemistry with Marc, but I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to let it stand on its own, away from what I had with Roger.
“Excuse us.” Marc slides out of the booth. My hand is still in his, so he pulls me with him. He drags me toward the back of the restaurant where there’s a hallway around a corner, leading to the bathrooms. He cups my face. My eyes flutter close as my lungs struggle to breathe. His forehead rests against mine. “Listen to me. Don’t overthink this. It’s dinner with my friends. Nothing more. Don’t get lost in that pretty head of yours or I’ll have to drag you back to the trampoline park.”
“They probably think I’m crazy now,” I mutter, opening my eyes. God, his eyes are so freaking blue. They’re a bright blue that makes me think of the sky. It’s almost overwhelming to have them so close.
His eyes soften. “They won’t judge you. They’ve lived through their own hell and dealt with it in their own ways. They won’t think you’re crazy for doing the same thing.”
“They know?” I squeak.
“They only know you have a hard past, nothing specific.”
I relax a little at that. I don’t like everyone knowing about Roger. He’s mine and I share him with people fit to know about him.
“You okay now?”
I nod in his hands, glancing down just to avoid looking at him. “Sorry. The high school sweethearts thing just shipped my mind elsewhere.”
He presses a firm kiss to my forehead. “Don’t apologize.”
With that, he leads me back to the table where our food is now waiting for us.
Meredith starts talking a little about tennis and then her dog, Leo, and it’s as if my mishap never happened. I learn the couple is supposed to get married next August in Pittsburgh and Marc is going to be Noah’s best man. Meredith seems as nice as I thought she’d be. Her and Noah are adorable together. It’s easy to see the love between them.
“Are you from Raleigh?” she asks.
I nod, hating that the conversation had to come to me. “I’ve lived here my entire life.”
“Have you ever thought about moving away to someplace new?”
I twirl some of the delicious pasta and take a bite to buy myself some time. Of course it makes sense to the athletes who travel all the time for their jobs to think other people would want to leave and see the world, too. The one time I wanted to leave was after Roger died, but I just couldn’t leave him behind. Swallowing the food, I shake my head. “This is all I know, and I love it here. Why change?”
“What did you do on your first date?”
A stupid smile appears. “We went to a trampoline park.”
“And it was obviously fun,” Marc adds, bumping his shoulder with mine with a matching smile.
“A trampoline park?” Noah questions.
“Yeah,” Marc sa
ys. “There’s a bunch of trampolines and you jump around on them. There’s a ball pit, a place to play dodge ball, and some other stuff, but we stuck to the trampolines.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun! Is he treating you well?”
I’m surprised that Meredith cares. I mean, I’d assumed she would care how I’m treating him.
“Of course he is, especially after Scott talked to him,” Noah answers.
My muscles lock. Scott talked to him? I turn to face Marc, trying to ask without asking what he said to him and what Marc said back.
“Don’t blow it out of proportion,” Marc says easily.
“What did he say?” The words force themselves out of my mouth.
“Just to be good to you.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
The waitress drops off the check, and I know that can’t be all he said. Noah wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise. Before today is over with, I will find out exactly what Scott said to Marc.
“This is the last meal you two will con out of me,” Marc tells them. “It has been fun, but Elizabeth and I have something we need to do.”
That gets my attention. “We do?”
“Yes.” He slides out of the booth and holds his hand out for mine. I take it, wondering what he has up his sleeve next. Meredith and Noah are standing across from us. Marc gives Meredith a one-armed hug and kisses her on the cheek before grinning.
“Seriously? You’re still going to kiss her in front of Elizabeth?”
Great. He’s going to have everyone calling me that.
“Yes, and it’s Lizzy,” he corrects for me.
Noah just shakes his head. “Let’s go, Mere.” He takes her hand and leads her away as she waves goodbye to us.
Marc hooks his arm around my neck and we follow them outside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Not terrible, no.”
“Oh, come on. Give me some credit.”
“For what? All we did was have dinner with your friends.” Surprisingly, no hockey was discussed and I wonder if Marc told them not to bring up the subject. It makes me happy and sad at the same time. Then, I remember we’re supposed to do something now. “What are we about to do?”
“You’ll see.” Marc opens the truck door with a flourish and bows as I walk past him to get inside. I can’t help but laugh a little. Despite myself, I watch him walk around the truck, a small smile gracing his face. He’s so much trouble. We don’t say much, but I’m utterly confused when he pulls into the parking lot of a grocery store.
“What are we doing?” I finally ask once we’re inside and we each have a little blue basket in our hands.
“We’re going to have a bake-off. You get whatever ingredients you need for your cake, and I’ll do the same for mine and meet you back at the truck.”
I stare at him. He’s joking, right? He wants me to bake a cake? The last time I baked a cake was for Roger. My throat tightens at the thought and I start shaking my head. We’re not doing this. I refuse. Why does he insist on pushing me? Doesn’t he realize how fragile I am and that if he isn’t careful, I’ll be broken beyond repair for certain?
Marc kisses me softly, and I swear if he doesn’t stop kissing me out of the blue, I might just scream!
“We’re doing this, and I promise it’ll be fun.” He turns and walks away like he doesn’t have a care in the world, the bastard.
I look down at my basket. Either I can go out to the truck and refuse to have any part in this, or I can give in. Which is it going to be?
THERE’S A COUPLE of reasons why this bake-off is a bad idea.
One: I’ve never baked a cake in my entire life.
Two: I knew Elizabeth would object.
Three: It could end in disaster.
But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how she abandoned her passion for so long. I couldn’t imagine just dropping hockey and never looking back. I thought that maybe this could be a good way to make her jump back into it, even if it’s only for tonight.
However, I’ve been sitting on the tailgate of my truck for fifteen minutes and Elizabeth still hasn’t walked out of the store. Maybe she snuck out and caught a cab home? I could’ve fucked up big time. But then, I see her. She’s carrying four bags. What in the hell did she buy? She isn’t smiling, so I know she still isn’t looking forward to this.
She stops a few inches from me, as if to stay out of the way of any cars that may drive by.
“If I do this, I want something in return.”
I reach for her bags, which she hands over to me, and ask, “What do you want?”
“I want to know exactly what Scott said to you, and I want to see where you live.” When my eyebrow quirks, she hurries to add, “Not today. Maybe after your road trip.”
“Done.” My phone starts buzzing in my pocket. Reluctantly, I pull it out, see it’s my dad, and silence the ringer. “Let’s go.” I move the bags into the truck. Once we’re on the road, I ask, “What did you buy?”
“You are not getting near my mixer, so I bought a cheap one for you to use, some more of the general ingredients, and a few more cooling racks.”
I glance over at her and realize her hands are trembling. Fuck. What I’m asking of her is bigger than I thought. I reach over, unbuckle her seatbelt, and my voice rumbles as I order, “Move over here.” Elizabeth frowns, but slides into the middle seat and buckles in again. I slide my arm around her neck like I usually do and force my tone to lighten and soften. “Why are you always getting nervous when you’re with me? Huh, Elizabeth? I’ve been the perfect gentleman so far, haven’t I?”
At this, she snorts, which makes me smile. “I’m a complicated woman, Marco. What do you expect?”
“Good point.”
She pinches my side. “Stop agreeing with me.”
“But I thought the woman was always right?”
“If I stood in front of you and said, I look fat, are you going to agree with me?”
“I can’t win.”
She laughs. “Now you’re learning. So, what did Scott say to you?”
“It was when I came to practice late. Basically, he was surprised that I knew you were his sister-in-law and that I knew about Roger. He said you hadn’t spoken his name since he died. He asked me if you told me anything else, I said no, and he said to be good to you. That’s the extent of our conversation.”
I’m expecting her to lock up on me, but she doesn’t. I’m surprised when she leans into my side and I wonder if she realizes she’s doing it. Elizabeth glances down at her lap.
“It’s just extra hard to talk about him with them. I have a hard enough time being around them as it is. Besides, it was almost like Roger was more mine than Scott’s, even though they were brothers. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”
“It only has to make sense to you.”
“Well, that’s good.” She laughs.
We get to her house and Elizabeth heads in first while I grab the bags before following her. She turns lights on along the way. Her home is simple and quaint. There’s a lack of photos, but there’s still some personality. She has decorative pillows on the couch, a few canvases of flowers or the ocean hanging around, and little knickknacks here and there.
I start unloading the groceries while she brings an expensive looking mixer from her pantry. No wonder she doesn’t want me to use it. Though, I’m sure she could just use the cheap one she bought for me to use as well. I subtly watch as she glides the tips of her fingers over the machine, lost in her head for sure. This time, I let her stay there instead of pulling her out of it. There’s a lot of ingredients on the counter that I’ve never seen go into a cake. Then again, I’ve never even seen a cake being made.
With a deep breath, Elizabeth turns to face me. “Have you ever made a cake before?”
I shake my head.
“Oh god. Well, what are you attempting?”
“German chocolate cake.” I texted Meredith while I was in the store and asked her to name a cake. That
was her response. I looked up the recipe online and bought what I needed based on that.
“Any rules for your little bake-off?” she asks as she grabs three round cake pans for me.
“Nope. Winner should get a prize.”
“If we’re the judges, who’s to say we won’t pick our own cakes?”
“I can be unbiased.” She quirks an eyebrow at me, but I ignore her. “Just think of what the winner should get and let’s get started.” She nods and we go about our business. I pull up the recipe and get started. When I start to mix the ingredients, Elizabeth stops me. “What?”
“What are you trying to do? Beat the ingredients to death while making a mess in my kitchen? You don’t need the mixer that high.” She adjusts it to a lower setting before letting me take over again and going back to her cake.
Once I’m ready to pour the batter into the pans, I hesitate. Elizabeth eyes me as I grab a measuring cup and she looks away to hide a smile. What better way to make sure the batter is equally divided into the three pans than to measure? Soon, my pans are in the oven, and I have a few minutes to watch Elizabeth. She’s clearly in her element now that she’s stopped paying attention to me.
That’s all I need to see to know I made the right decision in making us do this. I don’t have to start the icing until the cakes are done baking, so I continue to watch her. I don’t think she even knows I’m watching. She pours her batter into a simple sheet cake pan before turning to face me with a frown.
“What are you doing?”
I shrug. Her cell phone rings and my eyes follow as she goes to answer it. Sylvia. Of course. I wonder if she has other friends or family. While she’s distracted, I decide to find the hall bathroom. There are two closed doors in the hallway. I choose the first one.
My eyes widen as I take in what is definitely not the bathroom. It’s a bedroom with two twin beds. The walls are a cream white, but everything else in the room screams girl. There’s a toy chest, stuffed animals, and the entire package. What in the hell?
“What are you doing?”
I swivel on my heels at the sound of Elizabeth’s even voice. “Picked the wrong door for the bathroom. What is this?”
Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2) Page 5
