Because It's You (Carolina Rebels 2)

“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.