It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1)

by Tina Ness

  “Let’s start with two hobnobs,” he says, his big smile exposing a set of white teeth that matches the rest of him: perfect. “Better start you off with something mild.” He shoots a cute half smile at me and hands his credit card to the waitress. The waitress takes a longer-than-necessary look at him and then glances over at me. She stands there several moments too long before raising an unpleasant eyebrow at me and walking away. Marshall, who is working his wallet back into his pocket, doesn’t even notice the waitress’s odd behavior. These looks are likely a regular occurrence for any woman seen with Marshall. He is probably so used to the looks, he never notices. It leaves my nerves a bit raw. My eyes begin to travel over the lounge again as I try to regain my composure.

  I can sense him watching me looking around. He stays silent, so I take it as my cue to start the conversation.

  “This place is great. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.” I can’t hide the bit of awe in my voice. With so many things to look at, I’m tempted to suggest we wander around and see the rest of the place. But I don’t want to give up our spot, which couldn’t be more perfect since our close proximity requires our legs to touch at all times.

  “Did you notice the bar on our way in? The whole thing is lit up from underneath,” he says.

  “No, I must have missed it,” I say as I strain to swallow, once again reminded how out of touch I am with the rest of the world. And being next to Marshall could probably make me forget my own name.

  He leans back in his chair. “Here. Lean forward. It’s around the corner, but you can see some of it from here.”

  My heart jumps as I rise to my feet to lean over him for a look. My legs are positioned between his as I place my hands on either side of the chair and lean in for a look. I spot the bar, which I have no idea how I could have missed on the way in, but I pause, feeling his warm breath skim over my exposed shoulder.

  “Wow that is so cool,” I say before reluctantly retreating to the ottoman and nestling back in. “They did a great job with the details in this place. I love the furniture, and the artwork gives it so much character. It’s just what I would have done.”

  He leans forward with his elbows on his knees as if he doesn’t want to miss a word I say. “You seem to have a big interest in the décor.”

  “Well, it’s a passion of mine. I’m hoping to someday have my own interior design business.” My heartbeat becomes rapid as I await his reply.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “I’ve done several side jobs, including Beacon Pointe. That’s actually how I started working there. I did their redesign, and well, it was a constant paycheck, so I figured I’d stay there for a while and save up for my own business.”

  “How long have you been working at Beacon Pointe?”

  I feel my face get warmer. I’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. I have let myself once again get too comfortable in everyday life like when I was with Gavin, taking no risks and not really living my life. Money is only an excuse to not take any chances, when in truth, it’s the overwhelming fear of failure.

  “Four years. Manager for three of them,” I throw in.

  “Maybe I should hire you to do some work at our distilleries.”

  My throat tightens. “Sure” is all I manage to get out before the waitress arrives with our drinks. Just the idea of working for Marshall makes me jumpy.

  She places the drink in my hand with a cocktail napkin wrapped around it. As she walks away, I peel the napkin back revealing a little yellow colored drink. With a scrunched-up face, I look at Marshall. “I thought it was supposed to be green.”

  “Well, like I said, a true, quality absinthe isn’t very green. There are also pink and white variations. Only one of our products is white, but regardless of the color, once you add some grapefruit, gin, and lime, you kind of lose the green.”

  “Gin too? I thought you said this would be mild.” I shoot him another confused look.

  “Take a sip, and see what you think.”

  The glass touches my lips, and I pour my first taste into my mouth. I hope I will truly like it. This is his passion, and I would love to share it with him. The ice-cold liquid flirts with my tongue. I hold it in my mouth for a few moments before swallowing. Grapefruit is the first flavor I recognize. It isn’t until I swallow that I taste the licorice. My tongue begins to tingle, making me blush. I know he’s watching me and noting my first taste of the green fairy.

  I lick my lips. “Mmm. I like it.”

  “Good.” He looks utterly pleased. “A black fairy is another one you may want to try. It’s a little stronger, but you get a better taste of the absinthe.”

  “You’re the expert. I’ll try whatever you think I’d like.” The depth of my desire to do anything to please him brings heat to my face.

  “So have you always lived here in Duluth?”

  “Yeah, I have. And it’s crazy—I didn’t even know we had a place like this in Duluth.”

  “So what do you do besides work and pound Lakeside Trail pavement?” He sits back in his seat and sips his drink.

  I cringe at the question. The answer will no doubt reveal the dull, humdrum life I lead.

  “I hang out with Krystal from Beacon and my twin sister, Rose, mostly.” For a long moment, Marshall looks into my eyes. I can’t help but shake at the sense that he finds my simple life appealing—perhaps even a turn-on. I’m about to move closer to him when a man’s voice booms from behind me.

  “Well, well. Look who’s here. Honey, this is Marshall Roderick, the man who took over the old warehouse and transformed it into a real gem.” The gray-haired man slaps Marshall on the shoulder like they’re old pals. “Marshall, this is my wife, Becky.”

  Marshall stands and reaches out to shake her hand.

  “This is Elizabeth.”

  I stand to greet her and shift my cocktail over to other hand to shake hers. “Sorry. My hand’s a bit cold from my drink,” I say as she squeezes my hand.

  “It’s all right, dear.” Her smile is warm and welcoming, and a twinkle dances in her cheerful brown eyes.

  The guys chat for a few a minutes before Becky grabs my hand and leans in toward my ear. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, dear. My husband—as you can tell—is quite the chatterbox.”

  I laugh, loving her sweet sincerity. “It’s not a problem.” And I mean it. I’m enjoying watching Marshall interact with this man who is clearly in awe of him.

  Their laughing and back slapping continues until the man finally says, “You two should join us. This round is on me.”

  Becky finally shakes her head and interrupts her husband’s rambling. “Lenny, let’s leave this nice couple to their evening.” She tugs on his arm, and they walk away, but only after Lenny gives Marshall one last shoulder slap. Becky turns to us. “You two have a wonderful evening. It was great to meet you.”

  We both settle back into our seats, and Marshall says, “Lenny—shoot. I’m usually pretty good with names. Sorry I didn’t introduce you. I couldn’t for the life of me remember that guy’s name, and I’d hoped he’d offer it.”

  “No big deal. You know him from work?”

  “He stops in the distillery every so often, but the only time I spoke with him at any length was at our grand opening over three years ago.”

  “Well, he certainly didn’t forget you.”

  Marshall laughs. “I guess not.”

  We enjoy two more drinks, one of which was bought by the lounge’s owner when he came over to bend Marshall’s ear. I again observed how Marshall seemed to know more people than I do in this town, and his popularity says a lot about this town’s love of drinking. My intrigue only grows further as the lounge owner thanks him for his generous donation at his son’s fundraiser. I guess even playboys can have big hearts. I can’t help but feel that my mistrust is somehow unwarranted. But still, how can you misunderstand a hotel room full of women? And who knows how that waitress really knows him.

  I have Marshall’s att
ention all evening. He seems truly interested as he asks me questions about design—what I like, what I don’t, why I love it—all easy questions to answer, much to my relief. None of his questions requires me to go into any of my past. I easily avoid my train wreck of a relationship and the fact that I have done so very little with my life since completing my interior design course. He seems careful not to talk about the past, and it’s totally fine with me, but I can’t help but wonder why?

  As the night slips by, the place becomes much louder, making it hard to hear him. I make a gutsy move and take a seat on the arm of his chair, my face slightly higher than his. His ear is alarmingly close to my mouth, making me yearn to lick it from bottom to top. My nose fills with the unique aroma of sweet licorice mixed with the luscious scent of him. He takes the last sip of his cocktail and sets it down on the ottoman. His eyes are now locked with mine. He grips my hand to pull me in closer. I close my eyes, anticipating his kiss, but instead, I feel his warm breath on my neck.

  He whispers in my ear, “You’re really amazing, Elizabeth.” His hand is still on mine, and our eyes meet once again.

  For a moment, I believe him, but I remind myself that he most likely says this to all the “beautiful ladies” and that sex is all he wants. My desire for more than just sex from this man is growing by the minute, making me uneasy and angry at myself for being so easy to manipulate. Since I haven’t seen a ring or noticed a trace of one on his hand, I conclude that he isn’t married. He must be Peter’s cousin, which should make me feel bad for Peter, but this powerful force I feel when I’m near Marshall—I don’t know that I could stop myself. I don’t think I can stand another minute without his lips on mine.

  Chapter 6

  Blackwater Lounge slowly clears out. I make a necessary trip to the ladies’ room to freshen up and get my head straight while Marshall closes the tab. The night has gone so well that I can’t risk screwing it up. I’m tied up in sexual knots, so I’m bound to pounce if I don’t calm down. Gazing at my reflection in the mirror, I lean forward, looking deep into my eyes. What am I looking for? A sign telling me go ahead, take a chance? Telling me that there is no evidence on his hand that he’s married? Something telling me, “Slow down. You hardly know this man”? Can I really handle it if he’s a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy? I take a deep breath to calm my overstimulated nerves. Maybe I’m searching for a glimmer of that young, innocent girl I once knew. Leaning in closer for a sign, I bump my head against the mirror. I laugh at myself for being such a fool, and I decide to blame the absinthe.

  After a splash of cool water on my cheeks, a dab of lipstick, and a quick hair check, I head out into the foyer, where Marshall is shaking hands and laughing with Lenny.

  “Nice to see you again, Marshall,” says Lenny while patting Marshall on the back before heading out the door.

  “You have some sort of celebrity status around here,” I say, coming up behind him.

  He turns with a sly smile. “There’s something about having your own absinthe distillery that makes everyone want to be your best friend.”

  “I highly doubt that’s the only reason,” my voice teases as I raise my chin to look up at him.

  A warm smile rushes across his face. “Absinthe is all I’m good for.” He brushes up against me as he reaches to open the door for me.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t think of any reason someone would want to hang out with a friendly, funny, interesting, incredibly handsome, successful guy.”

  “You think I’m funny?”

  I can’t see his sexy smile, but I know it’s there. “And funny is all you picked up on?”

  Stepping out onto the sidewalk under the bright streetlight, I stop for a brief moment, taking a cleansing breath.

  His warm hand finds the small of my back. “I don’t want to call it an evening yet. You want to walk with me a bit?”

  My heart beats wildly. “Sure. A walk would be nice.”

  The sidewalk is much quieter than the lounge, which makes me uneasy about searching for a topic of conversation to fill the silence.

  “You seemed to enjoy the absinthe.”

  “I really did. Have to admit, I’m a bit surprised.” His warm hand continues to cradle the small of my back. I lean into it, letting it happen, caring not at all that I might just be another girl for another night.

  “No hallucinations then?”

  “Well, unless you count the talking giraffe sitting next to you half the night, then no.”

  He leans in and whispers, “It’s okay. I saw him too.”

  “Or … maybe it was just Lenny.”

  Marshall coughs, and a thunderous laugh follows. “You just might be right.”

  My grin must be a mile wide as we walk several steps in silence.

  “Looks like Lake Street Café is still open. Want to stop and grab a coffee?”

  “Sure.” I nod.

  “After you.” Gesturing with his hand as if he’s showing me the direction, he bows his head.

  He’s wearing a playful grin that’s as sexy as his everyday smile. I can’t imagine a single place in the world I would rather be than right here, right now.

  “And what is your caffeine of choice?”

  “Soy latte, half pump of almond, half pump of raspberry, no froth,” I answer too quickly. I worry he may think this is a high-maintenance choice. It’s another frill I got used to with Gavin. In actuality, a simple black coffee is a bit more like the real me, but it is a taste I’m no longer accustomed to. Marshall doesn’t even raise a brow, just turns to the counter to place our order.

  “Two medium soy lattes, half pump of almond, half pump of raspberry, no froth.”

  I laugh, knowing he could hear me.

  He turns back to me. “What is it you find funny?”

  “You don’t strike me as a soy latte kind of guy.”

  “Is that so?”

  I stare at the adorable dimple on his chin and think of how much I would love to kiss it. I blush when I see he’s aware I’m staring. Calm down, Elizabeth. The last thing you need is nervous sweat.

  When he turns to hand me my coffee, I’m nervously toying with my ring.

  He tilts his head. “Do you mind if I ask about your ring?”

  “No, not at all. I got it from my twin sister, Rose, when she came back from studying in France. The middle part spins. See?” I hold my hand up toward his face and spin it with my thumb.

  He takes my hand, bringing it up to his face. “Always Sisters, Forever Friends,” he says as he spins my ring. His warm breath on my hand makes my knees tremble.

  “You’re clearly attached to it. You and your sister must be close. Are there really two of you walking around this earth?”

  I smile, looking directly at him. “Well, we are identical twins, but her hair is lighter than mine, and she’s taller. She got the looks in the deal.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I wish I could take them back. Good going, Elizabeth. Why don’t you just come right out and tell him that you’re the one who was slighted at childbirth and that your sister is the perfect one. Tell him how much you were teased in school for that horrible boy haircut that took forever to grow out and that everybody adored your sister—the prettier one—while you’re at it.

  My pace slows, and instead of addressing it like I thought he would, he takes my hand in his instead. Never so quickly has my shame turned to joy. It’s almost like he can read me.

  We walk a block before I ask, “Do you have any siblings?” It’s a relief to put the focus on him.

  “I do. Three of them.” He sips his drink. “Mmm. This isn’t half bad.”

  “Why did you order it if you expected it to taste bad?” I scold him, amused.

  “You tried my poison, so I figured I’d try yours.”

  I laugh, looking up at his eyes, wondering if he could possibly be more adorable and sexy.

  “That’s so very Romeo and Juliet of you,” I reply.

  His devilish grin turns my heart int
o dancing butterflies as we make our way down the street. It’s a typical Saturday night on the streets of Duluth. The out-of-towners and college kids are showing up in droves to hit the bars and casino, and the street traffic is fairly steady.

  We are at the street corner, waiting to cross, when I turn toward the window of the Intrigued, an upscale clothing store. The mannequin on display is wearing a flirty, low-cut silver dress with a large turquoise jeweled necklace and a pair of black high-heeled strappy sandals that I find myself in love with. The outfit is the polar opposite of my Plain Jane T-shirt and jeans.

  Marshall comes alongside me and sweeps the hair from my shoulder, away from my neck, then leans in, whispering in my ear, “You would look fantastic in that.”

  His words make me blush, but at the same time, I’m charged with a sense of empowerment. I decide that I’m coming into town this week and buying the whole outfit, even if I never have a place to wear it. I know Marshall must be a pro at telling women just what they want to hear to get them into bed; however, I can’t help but have the notion that his words are sincere.

  We finish our coffees and are moments away from being back at his truck. Now I feel nervous again.

  We make our way around the corner into the dimly lit parking lot. Anxiety, anticipation, and pure adrenaline are weighing my breath. He presses the key fob to unlock the doors, and the truck beeps, startling me. He opens my door, but I don’t turn to get in. My hands are trembling and my heart is pounding in my ears, but I grab ahold of his arm, searching for his eyes. His hand touches the back of my neck. A fire burns deep within his eyes as he studies me. His intensity should make me pull away or, at the very least, hesitate, but instead, my grip tightens on his arm as he lifts me nearly off my toes to meet his lips.

  All of my nerve endings dance wildly. His grip is so tight that if his kiss hadn’t taken my breath away, his intense strength surely would. A moan rattles deep in his throat. The sound makes me even weaker. His soft tongue sweeps along inside my mouth with such longing it renders me totally breathless. We stumble back a few steps until I’m pinned between him and the truck. I feel the glory of his firm bulge press against my belly. A sigh escapes me as I lace my fingers into his thick brown hair—something I have desired to do from the first time I saw him, when Marshall had looked at me with those intense eyes, those eyes that I have felt studying me so many times.