Because It's You (Carolina Rebels 2)

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that all Southern belles should be tossed over a man’s shoulder at some point. Just making sure I get that done.”

I laugh. “That’s crazy. Put me down.”

“See? You’re even reciting your line! Good job.” He pats my butt.

“Marc,” I warn. “This isn’t fun.”

“Marc, this isn’t fun,” he repeats in a nasally, high-pitched tone that sounds nothing like mine, but unfortunately, it makes me laugh. He lets me glide down his body, that obnoxiously beautiful smile of his in place. “Get naked, woman.” He reaches around me to turn on the water in the shower stall.

“Did you turn into a caveman overnight?” I ask as I pull his T-shirt over my head as he does the same.

His eyes roam over me and he grunts. Grunts! I dissolve into a fit of giggles. It doesn’t help when he says, “Me Marc. You Elizabeth. Fuck. Now.” It all fades away when he grabs my hips and pulls me flush against him. When did he get completely naked? How’d I miss that?

Marc dips his head, bending to kiss me. His fingers, leaving a blazing fire in their wake, dance along my skin from my hips to my back to my stomach, higher and lower. Sweet lord. We step into the shower. A breathy moan causes all the air to leave my lungs when he kneels in front of me and licks where I’m most sensitive. I’m going to be late for work, but I don’t care. All I want right now is Marc.

I don’t even know why I’m letting Sylvia come over tonight. I should be hibernating like a bear. It’s winter. That’s what we grumpy creatures do during this time of year. I wish I had told Marc not to let Scott know he’s going to spend Christmas with me. If they get wind of that, they’ll be hounding me to spend it with them as well. Baby steps. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to spend it with Marc than my family, and it’s not going to be a piece of cake to spend it with Marc.

The only progress Sylvia needs to know about is the fact that I am seeing Marc and that I’m baking still. That’s it. Any more than that and she’ll overwhelm me. Or she’ll get her hopes up. Maybe she’ll try to push things along. They’re already moving way faster than I’d like, but I’ve been trying not to think about it.

“Why are you ignoring Scott?” Sylvia asks as she barrels into the house.

Here we go.

“Why does he assume I’m ignoring him because of Marc?” I fire back to avoid answering.

“Because you don’t ignore Scott.”

“It’s December, isn’t it?” If he calls during this month, I always ignore his calls. I don’t know why this is surprising all of a sudden. Sylvia looks deflated as she sits on the couch. That’s when it hits me. I stand, pissed the hell off. “Just because I’m sort of dating Marc doesn’t mean I’m fixed, Sylvia! It doesn’t mean anything has changed! Roger is still dead! It still hurts! You’re both fucking idiots if you think that a few weeks of being with Marc is going to miraculously heal me. It takes time!”

“It’s been six years, Lizzy!” she shouts, standing. “We all lost him, but we’ve all moved on. You’re the one who refuses to do so.”

Refuse? She thinks I haven’t been trying? That I’ve intentionally been wasting away my life because I didn’t want the pain to go away? That I didn’t want my life to change? The fucking nerve! “I went from being with him every single day to not having him at all. You only lost a brother-in-law. Scott only lost a brother. I lost the love of my life!”

“What do you think that’s going to do to Marc, Lizzy?”

“What are you talking about?” One has nothing to do with the other.

“What’s going to happen when Marc falls in love with you and you can’t move past Roger? What’s the point in seeing him if you’re just going to string him along? Half the time I can’t tell if you’re actually happier with him or if you’re just going through the motions like you have been for the past six years. I can’t look out for only you, Lizzy; I have to look out for him, too.” The anger has faded from her tone, and I try to wrangle mine back in, difficult as it is.

I fold my arms over my chest and sit down on the edge of my seat. She follows suit. “It’s not that I refuse,” the word is bitter on my tongue. “I haven’t been able to figure out how, Sylvia. I still don’t know how, but it’s incredulously stupid for you to think I’m going to change so quickly. Even Marc knows it’s baby steps.”

“I’m sorry. We want you to be happy again.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s what they all keep telling me.

“Does he make you happy?” she quietly asks.

I shrug.

“Lizzy,” she sighs.

“Fine. I might be a little upset if he were to drop off the face of the earth tomorrow.”

She laughs. “That works for me. Can we have one small request?”

“What?” I know what she’s going to ask. I can feel it in my bones. Stupid me will say yes because if she asks and I say no, I’ll feel so guilty knowing what I’ll be doing with Marc.

“Can we call once or twice a week and you talk to us? I know you usually don’t, but maybe this year, you could try?”