“No ‘Hello, Marc’ or ‘I missed your sexy face?’”
“Hello, Marc. I missed your sexy face. Now what’s going on? You should be on the plane heading home . . .”
“That’s more like it,” he said in his smooth as whiskey voice, and she chuckled softly, not wanting to encourage him because then she’d never get an answer out of him. “Hi, Elizabeth. I missed your beautiful face too, especially that smile of yours.”
When he said that, she couldn’t help but believe him and she smiled, feeling a damn blush cover her cheeks. “Marc—”
“It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Marc? Is everything okay?”
“Yes . . . it is . . . well, except for the fact that I have to wait to see you. Flight’s been delayed. Mechanical something or another.”
“Oh . . .”
“But . . . I’m booked on another flight. Mia’s with me. I was wondering if you could meet me at her place.”
“Sure.”
“How are you, Elizabeth?”
“Actually good. I took Maddox to visit Tom’s grave yesterday.”
His sigh over the line made her frown. “I’m sorry this took longer than I had anticipated. I wish I could have been there for you.”
“I appreciate that, but it was good for me to do it on my own.”
“So, you’re okay?”
“I am,” she said, a secret smile teasing her lips.
“So, how’s my little man? I’ve missed him so much.”
“He’s sleeping now. His grandma should be here around five to watch him.”
“Damn planes. I really was hoping to see him today.”
She didn’t say “later tonight,” but that was her plan—for him to spend the night. Lizzie was so ready to take this step.
Lizzie looked up at the address on the building then back down at her phone. Same number but it didn’t look like the house of the lead singer of one of the hottest bands on the planet. No flashy house . . . nope, just a typical Chicago three flat on a double lot.
Ringing the doorbell, she waited. The door opened and when she expected to see Mia, she got a full view of a now-tanned Marc. Her mouth had to have dropped open at how utterly gorgeous he was. That tan really made his light blue eyes stand out.
No words passed between them. He pulled her into his arms, squeezing the breath right out of her. “I’m so fucking glad to see you, beautiful,” he said, his words right against her ear. It felt like his lips kissed her as well, but then it was over and he stepped back. “You look stunning.”
“Amazing what having no spit-up on your clothes will do for your looks,” she replied. He laughed, but his eyes didn’t leave her. Guess he liked what he saw.
“Come on . . . Mia’s in the kitchen and it smells so good in there.”
The moment Lizzie entered Mia’s house, the aroma hit her. “Oh that does smell good!” Lizzie exclaimed.
“It’s almost done,” Mia called out, coming into Lizzie’s view, a wide smile on her face. “Hi, Lizzie,” Mia said. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” she said, shrugging off her coat which Marc took from her.
“It’s . . . uh, good to see you again,” Mia said and Lizzie couldn’t help but note that she seemed nervous. That surprised Lizzie. Why would one of the most famous musicians in the world be nervous around her?
“It is,” Lizzie said, stepping forward and hugging the rock star. And the smile that Mia gave her was full of gratitude. Awkwardness over. Mia opened her mouth to speak when a timer buzzed from the kitchen.
“Ooh . . . Marc, be helpful and get Lizzie something to drink,” Mia said, turning around and heading back to the kitchen.
“You’re bossy,” Marc shot back at Mia then turned to Lizzie. “Glad you’re not bossy, Elizabeth.”
“I’m not?”
“You like to tell me what to do? I thought it was the other way around,” he said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes at the sexual innuendo he put to it, causing him to laugh.
“You know you enjoy it when I order you about,” she said for his ears only. He smiled that devastating grin of his and leaned down so his lips were against her ear.
“You know I’ll do anything you ask, Elizabeth,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
That sounded like a promise . . . she liked that—a lot.
“Come on. Let’s get you something to drink.”
After an amazing dinner of shepherd’s pie, the three sat in the family room, each with a glass of wine. Lizzie listened to their hilarious stories that both Marc and Mia were all too happy to share with her. She learned a lot, but top on that list was the special bond those two had shared over the years. She saw it in the twinkle in Mia’s eyes as Marc regaled a story of one of their many parties back in the day. Or in the proud smile on Marc’s face as Mia spoke of her career.
“When are you finally moving back?” Marc asked.
“Hey, did you tell Lizzie your news?” Mia shot back.
“No . . . you are a pain in the ass. Answer then I’ll tell her.”
His news? What news?
“No. You first!”
“Fine. But I’m not dropping my question.”
“Fine,” she mimicked him perfectly.
Marc turned to Lizzie. “So, some big news . . . our screenplay got picked up for development.”
“For a movie?” Lizzie asked.
“Yes,” he said, an excited smile on his face.
“Holy shit, Marc!” she said, launching herself into him, her arms going around his neck, so happy for him.
“Yeah . . . holy shit is right!”
She pulled back and looked at his face, searching his eyes. “What does this mean exactly? What’s next?”
“To be honest, I don’t really know yet.”
Lizzie sat back on the sofa, though she wanted to stay there. She settled for sitting right up against him, his arm thrown around her shoulders, keeping her close.
“Now, you,” Marc said, spinning back and locking his eyes on Mia. “Answer my question.”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I ran into Ethan last week.”
“Oh yeah?” Marc asked, a crooked smile on his face.
“Yeah . . . I miss him.”
“What happened, baby girl?”
“I had a meeting at a hotel in LA for the movie. When it was over, I couldn’t find my damn keys. When I looked up, he was there. Standing in front of me like a goddamn dream. So fucking gorgeous.”
Lizzie agreed with that statement. Ethan Christopher was one of the hottest athletes around.
“Anyway, he wanted to get a drink. We talked. It was so nice . . . so easy. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed just talking to him or anyone like that. It was great until he pushed a couple sensitive buttons.”
“Lemme guess. The movie?” Marc asked.
Mia had been making the rounds on the entertainment shows and magazines lately about her foray into the motion picture world. From what Lizzie had gleaned from them, Mia played a woman trying to deal with—and not very well—the abrupt breakup with her boyfriend.
Mia nodded. “I don’t want him to see it. I don’t want Ethan to see me on the screen acting out the drug scenes. It was damn second nature to me.”
“Did you . . .” Marc started to speak then stopped mid-thought.
“No,” Mia said with a quick shake of her head. “I beat those urges. I just want him to be able to look at me without seeing me do the drugs.”
“He won’t see it, Mia,” Lizzie spoke up, her eyes quickly glancing from Mia to Marc. “If he loves you, he’ll just see you. Not the drugs. Not that mistake. He’ll see you.”
Her eyes fell to Marc, hoping he had heard her message too. She saw him. Only him.
“Anyway, I still have the bladder of a pregnant woman. Bathroom?” Lizzie asked
After Mia directed her, Lizzie pushed herself up from the couch in search of bladder relief. Lizzie took the opportunity to loo
k around Mia’s place on her way back, taking it all in. The intimate space of a rock star. And she was struck by the furniture. She knew this work. It had Tom written all over it. She did a little searching and saw his metal badge tacked on the underside of so many pieces in her house. Tom had had a huge impact on Mia’s life. It showed throughout her house. Lizzie went further into the house and Tom’s work was there too. Every room. When she turned around, her eyes landed on the wall of pictures by the staircase.
Lizzie smiled seeing so many familiar faces in those pictures—so many of Marc and Mia’s bandmates, and then there were the group shots with Tom in them. He was such a goofball when it came to pictures with his silly faces. In most pictures, his hat was on his head, sometimes askew. Towards the middle of the wall, Lizzie spotted a picture of just him and Mia. At Tom’s funeral, Lizzie had thought that this Mia was Tom’s Mia—the woman whom he obsessed over for years—but Lizzie never had concrete proof. Until now. This picture . . . Tom wore the Cubs hat she’d gotten him the month before she and Marc had broken up. But what really struck her was the background of the picture—Tom’s bedroom. His bed. His shirtless torso. Holy crap! Mia. Tom. They were really together and he’d never said a thing to her. Why? It sucked that she’d never know his answer.
She studied his face some more. She saw happiness. That bright smile that showcased his perfect teeth. God, she loved that smile.
Lizzie had to get her focus off of Tom otherwise her mood would definitely turn south. She started looking at the rest of the pictures, her eyes falling on a shot of Mia and Marc . . . who had long hair . . . and she started laughing. Oh my God!
“When was this picture?” Lizzie called out. When Marc and Mia came into the hall, Lizzie pointed at it, and he visibly winced upon looking at it, while Mia laughed along with her.
“2000 . . . he was still stuck in the nineties,” Mia chuckled some more.
“How long did he have it?” Lizzie asked.
“Don’t you answer that,” Marc said, glaring at Mia who just kept laughing.
“Too long,” she finally squeaked out.
“I never realized you’ve known each other so long.”
“Ten years,” Marc said proudly. “Couldn’t get rid of the brat.”
“You can’t call me that!” Mia exclaimed. “Only Marty.”
“Pest?” he offered jokingly and Mia pouted. He put his arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my baby girl,” he said fondly to which Mia smiled sadly. A story was there, Lizzie knew that for sure, but not one she’d get to tonight.
“Speaking of babies, you’ve got to show me pictures of your little man,” Mia said to her.
Lizzie’s mouth spread wide in a smug smile when Marc announced he was the most precious thing ever. She went to her purse and pulled her phone out. “That’s my Maddox,” Lizzie said, handing Mia the phone.
The smile on Mia’s face wavered ever so slightly as she flipped through the pictures. “He is the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen,” Mia said, handing the phone back. Then she turned and headed out of the room. Marc and Lizzie shared a glance and watched Mia stop, bringing her hand to her face.
“Let’s give her a moment,” Lizzie said. Marc nodded, but when Mia’s shoulders started to shake, he went to her and folded her in his arms, the silent tears turning louder.
“What is it, baby girl?”
“I miss him so much.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why?’”
“I think you need to truthfully face his death and what he meant to you.”
“I don’t want to do this . . .” she protested.
“Mia,” Marc said, using his authoritative tone on her and from Mia’s puff of air, it wasn’t the first time he’d used it on her.
“Let it go, Marc.”
“Honesty sets you free, Mia. Otherwise it’ll pull you under.”
“Can I not talk about him? I can’t go back and revisit that time . . . I . . .” she stopped and looked off to the side, lost in her thoughts. “Sorry,” she said.
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push so hard. I just want you to finally admit how you felt about him, because how you felt for Tom doesn’t change how you feel for Ethan. You can have multiple loves in your life.”
“This coming from the guy who’s only loved one?” Mia shot back, a smile on her face.
“Good one,” he said with a lift of his head and a smile. “I may not practice what I preach, but what I said is sound . . . for you.”
Lizzie’s mind repeated what Mia had just said. This coming from the guy who’s only loved one?
And a big smile lit her face.
I’m his only love.
Marc
The air was heavy with silent thoughts as Marc drove them back to Lizzie’s. “You okay there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, her head moving slightly so their eyes met. “Just a little tired. Maddox was a hungry boy last night.”
Her light-hearted voice pulled a chuckle from him. “I can’t wait to see him. He’s probably doubled in size since I last saw him.”
“Marc . . . you’ve only been gone two weeks,” she laughed, shaking her head.
He hoped she was right. When he was out in LA and FaceTiming with Lizzie and Maddox, he had realized he didn’t want to miss a moment of Maddox’s life, nor did he want to miss out on Lizzie’s. Marc wanted both of them in his life forever. He just had to figure out how to go about it without losing them.
Glancing over at Lizzie, he noticed her drooping eyelids and reached out and brought her closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed and then her eyes stayed shut.
Turning onto the highway, Lizzie’s head fell from his shoulder to his lap and he groaned when she snuggled into him, her head brushing repeatedly against his now hard dick.
Now here was the beginning of a fantasy . . . a top one at that. All she had to do was wake up and turn around.
But she didn’t. She stayed asleep in his lap the entire ride home. He pulled into the driveway after the most torturous ride ever. Each bump had her head moving against his cock. Each bump had him wishing she’d wake up and do something about it.
Brushing aside her fiery hair, he called out her name. “We’re home, Elizabeth.”
“Mmm,” she moaned against his leg and he swore his dick twitched. Maybe even poked her in the damn eye.
“Sleeping beauty . . .” he said, then tickled her nose.
“Marc!” she shouted, lifting her head off his lap.
“Home,” he said, pointing ahead.
She looked at her house then back at him, a pensive light to her beautiful eyes. With each moment she remained silent, the more on edge he felt. What was wrong? “I don’t want to go in without you.”
“Elizabeth . . .” he said, unsure of what she meant, afraid to believe it.
“Marc . . . I never want to go into my house without you,” she admitted, sweet tears in her eyes. “I want you by my side. Not just as my friend, but as my lover. I don’t want to fight what I feel anymore. I don’t want to waste any more time without you. I want to take this gigantic step towards you and our future together. But in order to do so, I need you by my side. So . . . will you stand by me?”
Did he just hear all of that? She wanted him . . . as her lover. She wanted a future together . . . with him.
He smiled. She wanted it all with him. His dream was finally coming true.
“Elizabeth, I’m already by your side. I’ve just been waiting for you to be ready.”
“I’m ready, Marc,” she said through her tears. “I love you.”
He cupped her face and fused his lips to hers. The sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted. The only mouth he ever wanted to taste for the rest of his life.
Still holding her face, he spoke words he hadn’t said in over two years. “Elizabeth McCullough, I love you. All I ever wanted was to spend my life with you.”
“Fulfilling
all our fantasies?” she suggested, crawling over and onto his lap. Her hands slid between them and tugged on the button to his jeans.
“Mmm . . .” he groaned as her hand wrapped around him. “Yes . . . every single one.”
Lizzie
Thirty years later . . . July 22, 2040
Sometimes she wondered why she still did these Sunday breakfasts. It seemed to always end in disaster, Lizzie thought, regarding the very gross looking pot of oatmeal. At least, she’d smartened up and had a couple coffee cakes in reserve.
“Mama!” Maddox called from the living room.
And that was the reason why she kept up the tradition. It had definitely changed over this year. Her middle child, Grainne, moved to London a few months back. She was an interior designer, and the lure of a position with a top company had her shipping off across the ocean. Holden, her baby, hadn’t technically moved out . . . yet. Many of his belongings still in his room while he was at Columbia, getting his masters in literary history. His plan was to teach someday.
Maddox played first base for the Chicago Cubs for the past 8 years. They compared him to Mark Grace, one of the best Cubs of all time. Tom would have been so proud to see his son on the infield of Wrigley Field, game after game. Lizzie had a feeling Tom did see every single game. Maddox had a ball in his hand from the moment he could roll one back and forth to Marc and Ollie. Those two men infused that passion for baseball into him from that day, constantly playing with him and taking him to games.
Her children were so different from each other. Holden and Grainne didn’t have an athletic gene between them. Grainne was an artist from the moment she could grasp a crayon in her hand. Holden was her scholar. He loved books, loved being around his father’s office, reading everything he could get his hands on.
The one thing they did have in common was their loyalty to their family. Maddox protecting Holden from bullies and Grainne from jerks, Grainne and Holden attending every game of Maddox’s that they could get to, and Maddox and Holden always running to help when their sister called.
Losing You (Stars On Fire #4) Page 29