Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2) Read online

  All I can do is stare.

  Blond hair.

  Slightly crooked nose.

  Blue eyes.

  Oh my god.

  It’s Baby Blue!

  “You I don’t know,” he continues talking. “What’s your name, beautiful?” If possible, his grin grows, looking exactly as I remembered.

  My name? What is my name? I rack my mind but can’t think of my fucking name!

  “Marc, this is Elizabeth,” Sylvia quickly jumps in. “We call her Lizzy, though.”

  This is Marc?

  Holy shit.

  Baby Blue is the guy Sylvia wants to set me up with?

  Baby Blue is Marc.

  Marc is a hockey player.

  Therefore, Baby Blue is a hockey player.

  No, no, no, no, no!

  Marc leans in, smelling fresh and clean from his shower, and softly kisses my cheek. “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth,” he whispers in a voice so low and seductive I have to stop myself from shivering and melting into a puddle. He pulls away, seemingly unaffected, and waves the waitress over.

  He looks so different with a suit on instead of that Speedo. But he’s still so handsome and beautiful. Yes, he’s a man—a beautiful, beautiful man.

  This needs to stop.

  It can’t happen.

  Scott, Noah, Nathan, and a few other guys arrive, and Scott introduces me to each of them. I glance at Sylvia who is a grinning fool. Marc’s arm is still around my shoulders. I look to Scott for help but he’s laughing over something Noah said.

  “How’d you get included in this group?” Marc asks once he has a beer in his hand.

  “I’m an old friend of Scott and Sylvia’s,” I reply stiffly. If I mention being their sister-in-law, there will be questions and I’m not going there. I lift my third drink and down half of it. This is insane. I shouldn’t be here, especially not with Baby Blue. God, why couldn’t he have just been a wonderful memory?

  “Just in town visiting, then?”

  “No, I live here.”

  “Then how come I’ve never seen your lovely face before?”

  I level my gaze at him. Part of me wants to remind him that he’s seen my face, and other parts of me, but I don’t. “Lovely, really?” Clearly, I’m going to need more alcohol. I finish off my drink and before I can wave the waitress over, Marc has ordered me another.

  “You are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful women.”

  Meredith giggles and Marc cuts her a playful glare.

  “I’m guessing by her laugh, that’s another line.” I wonder if he counts me as Ivy as one of those beautiful women.

  “Ignore Meredith. She doesn’t know anything,” he says as the waitress returns with my drink. “Tell me about yourself, Elizabeth.”

  “Lizzy,” I correct. I’ve always disliked how formal my name sounds. Hell, at this point, I almost wish he’d call me Ivy. Almost. “I’m a bank teller.”

  “That’s it?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “That’s it.” What else am I supposed to say? Past relationships aren’t something you talk about to begin with and I am definitely not going there. What I like to do? Seriously? No. I’ve already decided I’m not going out with him.

  “Did you go to the game tonight?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Nope.”

  Finally, his smile falters, and for some reason, I feel a little guilty. Marc doesn’t know what to do with me, not that I can fault him for that. Unfortunately, this means he’s trying a new technique. “Do you ever smile, Elizabeth?”

  “Lizzy,” I correct again. “And of course.”

  “Let me see it.”

  I frown.

  “That’s not a smile,” he laughs.

  My eyes narrow. “Why do I need to smile?”

  “I want to know you’re capable. And if you can be this beautiful frowning, then I can’t imagine what you’d be like smiling.”

  “You’re full of shit. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “And you’re a piece of work.”

  My jaw drops and my eyes widen. Why did Sylvia think we would hit it off? I ignore him and pick up my drink, steadily sipping. I liked him better as Baby Blue when talking was not a priority. His thumb brushes my shoulder and I realize his arm is still around me. I pluck it off, but he moves it right back. He’s not even paying attention to me anymore because he’s talking to Meredith, making her laugh like he’s a comedian. He’s not that funny. I move his arm again. It’s useless!

  His suit jacket is open, exposing a white dress shirt underneath. I pinch his side hard. Marc yelps like a little girl and that makes me smile and giggle.

  Marc doesn’t even seemed that bothered. My laughter stops as he leans in to whisper in my ear again. “Beautiful smile, Elizabeth. Even better laugh.” God, that voice is to die for. Marc chuckles.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “You like my voice?”

  My eyes widen. “I said that out loud?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  I push him away, not liking how much I like having him so close or how I’m wishing I could have him as Baby Blue instead of Marc. “Get your arm off of me.”

  “You like me.” He grins.

  “I don’t know you.”

  “But you like what you do know.”

  That couldn’t be truer. “No, I don’t.”

  Marc leans in again as I quickly finish off my drink. “I think you do, Elizabeth.”

  “Lizzy,” I correct, but he ignores me as usual.

  “I think you’re insanely attracted to me. I think you’re already all hot and bothered. I—”

  I’ve heard enough. Baby Blue, I’m definitely attracted to, and I’ve been hot and bothered since I heard his voice again. But Marc, I don’t think I like very much. I nearly fall out of my seat, trying to get away from him. Thankfully, Scott keeps me from falling flat on my ass. “Take me home,” I quietly order him. “Your wife is fucking insane. I can’t do this, Scott. Take me home.”

  “Hey,” Marc starts. “I was just messin’ with you, Elizabeth. No need to get your panties in a bunch and leave.”

  I glare at him. “It’s Lizzy!” My voice is too loud, gathering the attention of our entire table.

  “You’re one uptight woman, aren’t you?”

  My jaw drops in outrage for the second time tonight.

  “That’s enough, Marco,” Scott gruffly says from behind me.

  “Marco?” I question with confusion. I thought his name was Marc.

  “His last name is Polinski, so they call him Marco Polo,” Meredith explains.

  That cracks me up. Not just a giggle. I’m talking gut-busting laughter. “Marco,” I laugh.

  “Polo,” Marc replies with a flat tone, which only causes me to laugh harder.

  “How many drinks has she had?” I faintly hear Scott asking Sylvia.

  My laughter starts to die down and I wipe the tears from my eyes, but one look at Marc has me giggling again. That’s just the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. This hot guy with the voice of an angel, or devil depending on how you look at it, is called Marco Polo like the pool game I used to play when I was a kid. God, I don’t remember the last time I laughed like this. Or at all.

  “Go on a date with me.”

  That’s one way to make me stop. “What?” He can’t be serious. I haven’t even shown any interest in him!

  “You heard me.”

  “Yes!” Sylvia bursts. “She says yes.”

  “I do not,” I say, shaking my head.

  “You said if there was a spark, you’d let me set you up,” she reminds me.

  “There’s no spark.” We’ve caught the attention of the entire table and they are all looking at me like I’m lying. “There’s not!” I mean, he’s hot and I already know the sex is great, but that hardly counts as a spark. I turn to Scott, fully intending on telling him to take me
home, but he shocks me when he speaks first.

  “You should give it a chance,” he says quietly.

  “What?” For a moment, I hate him. He knows what it means to me for him to say this. I wish he wasn’t. I wish he didn’t care so much and would let me live my life the only way I know how since my world stopped and started spinning in the opposite direction.

  Scott leans down and whispers, “He’d want you to try.”

  The dam is threatening to break, but I contain the tears and swallow hard to push down the sob waiting to break out. I turn to Marc. “Okay.” Then I face Scott, “Now take me home.”

  “I’ll take you,” Marc offers.

  “She’d love that,” Sylvia blurts out. I swear, I’m going to kill her!

  “He’s been drinking,” I try.

  Marc grins. “Haven’t touched it.” He lifts his beer. It doesn’t look like he’s had but a sip.

  Crap.

  “Fine.”

  How did I get myself into this mess?

  AS SOON AS the okay leaves her mouth, I throw an arm around her shoulders and tuck her into my side. She glares at me, but I ignore her. “See you guys later,” I tell the table and begin to lead her away.

  “Why is your arm around me again?”

  “I’m helping you walk.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” she retorts.

  Maybe not, but she is a little unbalanced on her feet considering she’s leaning into me so much and she nearly fell out of her chair earlier. I don’t say any of that, though. “Just enjoy being able to feel my body next to yours, Elizabeth.” I don’t know what’s come over me, but I keep blurting shit out that seems to piss her off.

  “It’s Lizzy,” she grumbles.

  I pull my keys from my suit jacket and unlock the doors to my truck as we approach. She can correct me all she wants, but I’m calling her Elizabeth. It suits her better, I think. I open the door for her, but she stares at the seat, unmoving. Taking a step closer, so close that my chest brushes her back and her ass touches the tops of my thighs, I lean down to whisper in her ear, “Need help?”

  Whether it’s the proximity of my body to hers or the sound of my voice, Elizabeth sharply sucks in a breath. She goes tense and shakes her head. She grabs the handle along the frame and hauls herself into the truck. I close the door for her and then I’m walking around to get behind the wheel. “So, when do you want to go out with me?” I ask as I back out of my parking space.

  Elizabeth groans. “Never.” A second later, she adds in a quieter tone, “Aren’t you too busy traveling to go on dates?”

  “Nope, I’m not that busy. Hey, where am I going anyway?” I ask as I pull to a stop at a stoplight. I don’t even know if I’m going in the right direction.

  She starts giggling much like she did when Scott called me Marco and she learned of Marco Polo. “I was wondering when you’d ask.” She leans over and pulls up the GPS on the screen of my dash.

  “You can’t give directions?” I tease.

  “Nope.”

  The light turns green, so I keep going straight. Elizabeth leans back in her seat a minute or so later. According to my navigational system, I need to turn around. She couldn’t have told me I was going in the wrong direction? We’re quiet as I make my U-turn and begin heading toward her house.

  “There’s something familiar about you,” I say. I can’t put my finger on what, though, and it’s really bugging me. “We haven’t met before, have we?” I would remember if we had. I wasn’t lying when I told her she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. From her dirty blonde hair to her hazel eyes to her amazing body, the woman is gorgeous. She’s all but eliminated Ivy from the Halloween party from my mind.

  When I glance at Elizabeth, she seems oddly tense. “No, we haven’t,” she replies tersely, throwing me off for a moment.

  I figured as much, but I swear, there’s something about her. Something about that mouth and those eyes. But what is it? The thoughts nag me so loudly that I nearly miss what Elizabeth says.

  “You don’t have to go out with me just because Sylvia is pushing this. I know how she can be.”

  She can’t be serious. “She only told me she wanted me to meet someone. She never said she wanted us to go on a date, even though I knew that was her goal. Sylvia didn’t push me to ask.”

  “Oh,” she replies quietly.

  Nothing else is said on the drive to her house. I stay silent to give her a break from me. I keep glancing over at her, trying to figure out why she seems familiar. I pull into her driveway, but her hand is already on the handle before I can park.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I order before I can think twice about it.

  Elizabeth freezes, and then slowly removes her hand. I get out, jog around, and open the door for her. She’s unbuckled her seatbelt.

  “You know what some say about men with big trucks, don’t you?”

  “Um, no?”

  “They have small penises.” She places her hands on my shoulders and uses me to help her out of the truck before I can even process what she’s said. My hands end up on her waist, pulling her shirt up a bit.

  That’s when I see it.

  The dove tattoo sitting low on her hip.

  Holy fucking shit.

  “Ivy,” I whisper, looking up into the hazel eyes that have been haunting me for too damn long. Elizabeth locks up, avoiding my gaze. “You’re Poison Ivy from the Halloween party.” Then, I realize she lied. We have met. “Why’d you lie?”

  Her mouth opens and closes before she blurts out, “Because I liked Baby Blue better than Marc!”

  Wait. What?

  Seeing my confusion, Elizabeth huffs and slaps my hands off her waist. “I never got your name, so I called you Baby Blue because of your eyes. Now, move out of my way.”

  I don’t move. She can easily walk around me, but instead, she’s letting me block her direct path. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Well, find a way to stop,” she snaps.

  I cup her face, her eyes shooting up to mine, but there’s no fear. Maybe a touch of wariness, and there’s a hell of a lot of lust. That’s all I need to see. I press my lips to hers in the same hard kiss she gave me once before. Whether she wants to or not, she relaxes and locks her arms around my neck. The woman wants me, but for some reason, she’s determined not to have me. And I’m all but handing myself over to her on a silver platter.

  It’s quite funny that she was dressed as Poison Ivy because that night, she infected me and I’ve had an itch for her ever since. I’d given up on ever finding her, and now, here she is.

  Unfortunately, her thoughts have caught up to her. Her arms move to shove me away, so I let her. We’re both breathing heavily, and it’s so freaking tempting to kiss her again.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieks.

  “Why’d you run away?” That question has been burning a hole in my chest for far too long. “There’s obviously chemistry. Now, Sylvia is trying to set us up and you keep finding ways to run from me. Why?”

  “Because I want to!”

  “Why?” I push.

  “Because it’s wrong!”

  Wrong? How in the hell is it wrong? I think I need to talk to Sylvia and figure out what kind of person she’s introduced me to.

  “I mean, I just... God, I hate Sylvia.” She finally walks around me, but I reach out and grab her elbow.

  “We’re going on that date.”

  Her laugh lacks humor. “Don’t worry; I’m sure Sylvia will force me to go if she has to drag me herself.”

  Her words rub me the wrong way. I let go of her elbow. “If you truly don’t want to go, then don’t. I’ll make up some story to tell Sylvia for you.” She and Sylvia must be closer than I thought. I hate the words out of my mouth because I absolutely don’t want her to not go, but I won’t make her go if she doesn’t want to.

  But I really really want her to want to.

  Elizabeth looks at me as i
f I just dealt a hand she wasn’t expecting. “You don’t know Sylvia.”

  “If you don’t want to go, I’ll make sure you don’t hear a word about it. It’ll be all on me. Promise.”

  She tilts her head. “Do you not want to take me on a date?”

  “More than I want my next breath, but I’m giving you an out if you want one.”

  She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Where’s your phone?”

  It takes me a minute before I realize what she said and I pull my phone out from my pocket. She plucks it from my hand.

  “I’ll put my number in here. Tell me a date and a time. Make it semi-late notice or there’s a good chance I’ll find a way to cancel.” With that, she shoves the phone back to me and then walks away to her front door.

  What just happened?

  I get into my truck and head over to Noah and Meredith’s place. They’re probably home by now. Thankfully, they’re just arriving when I pull in.

  “What’s up?” Noah asks me.

  “I found her.”

  His eyes widen. There’s only one her I could be talking about. “What? Who is she?”

  “Who are we talking about?” Meredith asks with confusion.

  “It’s Elizabeth.”

  “No shit. Really?”

  “Can someone please fill me in?” Meredith’s starting to get irritated by being left out.

  “Let’s go inside,” Noah says. We start to the elevators as he starts telling Meredith what happened. “Marco met someone at the Halloween party, had sex with her in his truck, but she ran away. He asked a few of the guys about her, but no one remembered seeing her. He’s been obsessively thinking about her ever since. Turns out, the girl from the party is Lizzy. You’re all caught up.”

  “Oh.” Meredith’s response is less than excited.

  “What’s the lackluster oh for?” I ask.

  “Well, Sylvia told me a while back she wanted to set you up with someone, and that it would take a lot of convincing for whomever it was and that she was hoping the whole opposite attracts thing would work. I can’t imagine you with someone like Lizzy based on what Sylvia said and how she was tonight.”