Because It's You (Carolina Rebels 2)

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?”