It Will Always Be You

By Tina Ness

Book can be read as a stand-alone.

Elizabeth Rose Murphy is the manager at Beacon Point Resort in Duluth. Elizabeth is a twin. She believes to be the less unattractive twin and has scars from past relationships that have diminished her confidence in herself. Neither of her previous two boyfriends loved her enough to keep her around and her fear of failure keeps her from pursuing her dream job.

Marshall is a devilishly handsome, confident and successful business man who owns two Absinthe Distilleries, one in Duluth, the other in Minneapolis. Having the reputation of an unattainable ladies man, Elizabeth keeps her distance. It isn’t until she gets to know him that she learns he has a very heartbreaking past.

When Elizabeth is forced into conversation with Marshall, after years of purposely avoiding him, she realizes that things aren’t always what they seem. The chemistry between them is strong and unavoidable, though her insecurity and his complicated past threaten their chance at a future. Following a violent attack, they become painfully aware that their lives are intertwined in an unexpected way. This collision of past and present has the potential to drive them forward together, if they can avoid letting it break them apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tina Ness
• Release date: Jan 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310019111

Tina Ness

Tina is a contemporary Romance Author from Minnesota where she was born and raised and still resides with her wonderful husband, two girls and two crazy boxer dogs. Tina ran her own photography business for eight years before finally deciding to pursue her dream of becoming an author and she hasn't regretted that decision for a single second since. Tina's a romance junkie with a love for food, wine, fitness, nutrition, photography, music, boating on Lake Minnetonka, cross-country skiing and anything that inspires her or makes her laugh. Her first novel It Will Always Be You launched on October 26, 2014 and I'm currently working on book two of three of my You Series. Book #1 can be read as a stand-alone however.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thursday, May 20

Why on earth am I so nervous? The heat of embarrassment radiates from my face, and I’m not even looking at tall, tan, blue-eyed Marshall Roderick, whose very proximity makes me squirm. He approaches the hotel desk for his routine check-in, as he does every couple of weeks. From what I hear (and people in this town really like to talk), Marshall owns two businesses in Minnesota, one in Minneapolis and one here in Duluth. I grab an envelope—which I don’t actually need—from the cabinet; I’ll do anything to keep my anxiety in check. I pray that my sweaty underarms won’t be detected. As he nears, I realize how rude it would be to keep my back to him.

Dammit, why did Krystal have to step away from the front desk right at this very moment? I stand frozen in place. I can’t move my legs. Come on, Elizabeth. You can do this.

I decide not to turn around and face him since he’s on the phone and clearly enjoying his conversation. I busy myself with the paperwork he’ll need to check in, eavesdropping as I reach for a pen.

Well, Aubrey, I just got to the hotel. Let me get checked in, and I’ll see you tonight.

Aubrey? Who’s Aubrey? She must be his girlfriend. He has always checked in alone, but being a successful businessman, he may keep his romantic rendezvous under wraps. I can only imagine his life, full of variety and adventure and nothing like my mundane daily routine and sex-deprived existence.

He’s chuckling and barely even looks at me. His laughter makes me imagine what it would be like to tell him a joke (not that I know any)—maybe while lying on his hard, warm chest in bed—and be rewarded with that perfect laugh. The fantasy almost throws me off balance.

Yes, 8:00 p.m. at Beacon Pointe Resort. I sure have missed all my beautiful ladies, he declares before hanging up.

All his beautiful ladies? I’m suddenly frozen again, unable to recall what I was doing before he ended his call.

He gently clears his throat, jarring me from my daze. Miss? He’s talking to me, and I’m just standing here, unable to look up at him.

Excuse me, Miss? he says, louder this time.

I’m sure my face is beet red as I look up at him, scared to death. How may I help you? I manage to squeak out.

Oh, hello, Elizabeth, he says cheerfully. I’m hoping to check in to my room, he says, still smiling.

Crap, now my palms are sweating too. Every time he checked in before, I pretended to act busy and left Krystal in charge of checking him in, even though I could feel his stares upon me. His attention to me has always made me nervous, but right now, I’m mortified. I can’t even continue to look at him.

Are you okay? he asks, leaning farther over the desk, looking genuinely concerned. His face is only a foot from mine.

My heart races as I slowly lift my head. I open my mouth, and nothing comes out.

Suddenly, Krystal comes charging in, fingers snapping in her usual over-the-top way. Mr. Roderick, it’s been a while, Krystal bellows with confidence as she returns to her space behind the front desk.

Thank God she’s back.

It sure has. I’ve been out of the States on business. Feels good to be back. He smiles at both of us as if we are old friends.

Glad to have you back, Mr. Roderick, Krystal says, looking over at me. At this moment, I’m the awkward redheaded girl with oily skin, braces, and a bad haircut who looked back at me every morning before my freshman year of high school. Here I stand, like her, in my size eight sneakers, wishing I could hide, wishing I were the girl blessed with height and looks, wishing I were my twin sister, Rose, whom all the boys chased after. Krystal’s hazel eyes widen in surprise as she realizes I’m a total wreck. To my relief, she proceeds to check him in, pretending not to notice.

I see you have the Lakeview Penthouse Suite and will be staying with us until Monday. Is this correct? Krystal inquires.

Yes, Krystal, thank you, he says. He examines me with what appears to be a mixture of amusement and confusion.

I turn away from him and resume my charade of busyness, fumbling with a tower of toilet paper rolls. Before I realize what I’m doing, they topple over. I feel like I just may lose this morning’s fruit and yogurt. I bend over to scoop up my display of awkwardness. Why does Marshall Roderick have such an effect on me?

Krystal’s businesslike posture shows no sign of her usual flirtatiousness. She and I have worked together for two years now, and she is in no way a shy woman. I’ve seen her work her magic on many men, and she is clearly not looking to bait the hook for her big catch. She is recently divorced, so many would think she’d take more notice of this beautiful man before her, but a man like Marshall just isn’t her type. Her ex, Ross, is nine years older than she, a guitar player in a blues band, and covered in tattoos. He loves to party and is a complete freak show in the bedroom, from what she has told me. But come to think of it, most of the stories she has told me don’t involve the bedroom at all.

One night, over buffalo wings and cocktails after work, Krystal had moaned loudly as she licked the sauce off her fingers, one by one, drawing an embarrassing amount of attention. Then she went into detail about how Ross had gone down on her in broad daylight on a park bench at Split Rock Lighthouse two days earlier and how a couple passing by noticed Ross’s head buried under her skirt and walked away shaking their heads. I think I was embarrassed enough for everybody in the place as she gave me the play-by-play.

The craziest story I could tell her was about the time I did it in a speedboat in the daylight on Lake Superior with Tanner—the older brother of my best friend, Holly—the day after high school graduation. It wasn’t my first time with Tanner—he had taken my virginity a month prior—but that day it was different. Tanner had been rough, pulling my hair and biting my shoulders and neck, and oddly enough, I really liked it. It was the beginning of what I thought would be a great new relationship. We met up several times at his apartment after that day, and every time we did, it was new—new positions, hands tied, blindfolded—it was exhilarating. But after giving him what he said was the best fuck of his life, he kicked me to the curb and said he had a date. Holly hoped it would turn into a relationship after I’d told her that I thought I was falling in love with him, but instead, it turned out to be the beginning of my now-estranged relationship with my best friend after fifteen years of being inseparable.

What I wouldn’t give for a tussle between the sheets with Marshall Roderick. That lean muscle, chiseled jaw, and rear view makes Tanner look like a little boy. Marshall could without a doubt bench press my recent ex, Gavin. And I’d be willing to bet that Marshall knows every trick in the book to fully satisfy a woman.

Well, Mr. Roderick, here are your keys. Krystal sets the keys in his hand. I watch as they converge, noting a tinge of jealously. Enjoy your stay at Beacon Pointe. Please let us know if you need anything.

A million-dollar smile directed at Krystal flickers over Marshall’s perfect lips, but it vanishes with a nod directed at me.

I look down at my shoes, and there I am, in my high school hallway, the world passing me by as the remnants of the broken clay bowl I just dropped lay scattered at my feet. I’m afraid to look up only to be met with scrutinizing eyes.

Krystal snaps back to look at me with a mischievous grin. How in the world did I not notice it before? You’re damp in the panties for Marshall Roderick. Krystal’s eyes widen with delight, and she bites down on her lower lip to mask her smile.

Krystal’s vulgar comments are something I’m used to, and she is going to have a field day with this news. For a few moments, I’m proud that I kept my desire for Marshall a secret as long as I have. Finally, a sly grin comes across my face. Gee, what gave that away? I say in a smart-ass tone.

So, Lizzie, you’re into pretty boys, are you? she says with a smirk.

I would hardly call Marshall Roderick a pretty boy, I say defensively.

Wow, your panties are definitely in a bunch, aren’t they? Bet you wish they were bunched up on Marshall Roderick’s penthouse floor. She nudges me and winks.

Mind in the gutter as usual, Krystal. I scowl at her.

That’s what I do best. Besides, you need a good lay. How long has it been since Gavin? she says, gagging.

Eight months, I say in a pouty voice. Eight months too long. Not that Gavin and I had an interesting sex life. It was missionary-style boring every time, but at least I got off on occasion without having to do it myself. Nearly four years of missionary with no willingness to change it up. I brought home books and the occasional toy, but nothing. I once purchased a Better Sex video and had it ready to play at bedtime. The second the video started, he sat up like a shot from a gun and turned it off. What the hell, Liz? Our sex life is fine! He yelled so hard I could see the veins in his forehead. Well, maybe for you, but I need more, I said. It was the first time I ever said this out loud. He told me to leave if I wasn’t happy, but I didn’t. I was too attached to the idea of coming home to someone. Gavin never looked at me like he desired me; that look was saved for those moments he thought I wasn’t looking and a good-looking guy would pass by. I always told myself that it was simply that he was eying up the competition. Not that anyone was beating down my door. Heck, who did I think I was kidding anyway? Just myself I suppose.

The financial security Gavin offered, having been raised by a wealthy family who gave him everything and a promising new career as a pilot, was the icing on the bland, tasteless cake. My father, a bank vice president, taught me the importance of money, but his motto was save everything, don’t spend. I was enjoying the freedom that comes with spending for once in my life.

After that night, I learned to take charge of my own pleasure, which kept me somewhat content for another two years. Gavin slept on the couch that night, and I watched the rest of the video (and many others after that). I tried out some toys, a few of which I still favor to this day. Nothing but the real thing can set me off like the little pink butterfly kiss can. I feel for the poor soul who gets Gavin next, male or female.

Hearing the many stories Krystal has so willingly shared with me over the past two years has set fire to a longing for some sexual variety. I want my world rocked like it was with Tanner, but beyond that. I find myself fantasizing about it often these days, craving a warm body next to me; running my hands over tight, masculine, toned abs similar to the ones Tanner had; and feeling a working man’s hands on my body. I need anything but vanilla sex. I may have to settle for some strange, as Krystal would put it.

Well, maybe you should head up to Marshall Roderick’s room and see if he needs his pillow fluffed, she says with a little giggle, making her sound more like ten than thirty-two. Oh, that’s right. You can’t function when he’s around.

My face flushes again at the thought of my behavior. The newfound confidence I’ve been trying to convince myself I had stripped away.

You’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you? I sputter.

Just calling it as I see it.

I take my seat at the front desk in hopes of getting back to work and taking my mind off being mortified. I stare blankly at the computer screen, the heat on my face still present. Damn, is this day over yet?

What time are you off tonight? asks Krystal.

Ten, I say, gritting my teeth. You?

Eight for me. Open mic night tonight at the Brewhouse. You should swing by when you’re done.

I’ll think about it. After the day I’ve had already, and it’s only—I glance down at my computer—six! I shout a little too loudly, this is going to be a long one.

I turn again to my computer screen to get lost in my work at least for a little while, but within minutes, I’m taken back to the first day I met Marshall.

I was in the lobby speaking with hotel guests, doing my best to act interested as they rambled on about the many amazing birds they’d seen that morning along their walk on Lakeside Trail. I strained to hear Marshall’s voice and watched his every move as Krystal checked him in. After that, I looked to see how long his reservation was and, for the next few days, found myself staying close to the front lobby, hoping to get the opportunity to see him. I even picked up an extra shift that weekend. Hell, I’ll admit it’s borderline stalking, but Gavin and I were together at the time, and I was only looking. But I can’t deny that the vision of Marshall Roderick has been the only thing on my mind every time my fingers danced me to orgasm since that day two years ago.

***

The phone rings, and I jump. Jeez, what’s with me? I quickly clear my throat. Front desk. This is Elizabeth speaking. How may I help you?

Yes, Elizabeth, this is Marshall Roderick from suite 321. I’m wondering if somebody could bring up a few more towels?

It’s him. Oh, God, what do I do? Can I talk this time? Why does he need more towels for just one person? He must have company. There’s probably more than one woman ready to hop into his Jacuzzi. Maybe it’s Aubrey. I feel my face getting hot. How silly, Elizabeth. You can’t even see him, yet here you sit, red-faced. The line goes silent for few moments.

Hello? Are you there? He sounds slightly annoyed.

Ah … yes. Um … sorry. Uh … we can have someone up with towels shortly. I take a deep breath and hope he can’t hear me. H—how many would you like?

Two more would be sufficient.

Two more—uh—sure. I manage to sound a little more upbeat.

Thank you, Elizabeth.

No problemo, sir. I finally get the words out, and I say no problemo? What an imbecile!

I hang up the phone and cover my face with my hands, wanting to bang my head against a wall, but I refrain. My face has been red enough for one day.

The oversized antique clock hanging over the lobby fireplace reads 9:50 p.m. I’d picked up the clock at a local estate sale when I was hired to redecorate Beacon Pointe Resort four years ago after completing an online interior design course through the New York Institute of Art and Design.

After the redesign, Kiki, the hotel owner, was short staffed and offered me a job. The prospect of a stable, full-time job versus the random interior design jobs seemed too good to pass up at that time in my life since it was only going to be temporary, until I was sure Gavin’s pilot job would be as lucrative as promised. I became a front desk clerk, and four years later, I’m still here, only now I’m Elizabeth Murphy, guest services manager.

I was relieved that I was able to keep busy after Krystal left, but then it dawned on me—I may not have anyone to bring up towels at this time in the evening. I can only hope that someone from housekeeping is still here. I call the maintenance room, hoping that someone—anyone—is in. I fidget with the silver spinning ring on my middle finger. My sister brought the ring back for me from France, where she studied during her junior year of college. The ring has the words Always Sisters, Forever Friends engraved on it, and it means the world to me. My behavior around Marshall today would have had Rose in stitches. I can hear her voice saying, Lizzie, what the hell was that? How will we ever get you hitched if you can’t even talk to a guy?

Please pick up, please pick up. The phone rings for what feels like an eternity. I sigh deeply, knowing what I have to do.

I run to my purse in the office behind the front desk area, then dig for my favorite MAC lipstick—Spirit—one of my splurges I couldn’t let go of after my breakup with Gavin. Looking for a mint or a piece of gum somewhere in my mess of a purse, I keep digging until I feel a wrapper. I pop my very last mint into my mouth and head to the laundry room for some towels, saying a prayer that my savior would be here to save me from further humiliation.

I’m not so lucky. I grab two clean towels off the shelf and make my way to the elevator.

On the way up, I check myself in the reflective elevator door. I flip my head upside down, working my fingers roughly over my scalp to add a little volume to my long, wavy red locks. Well, that’s a little better at least.

The elevator door opens, and I stand up straighter, bringing my shoulders back in an attempt to look taller. I have always had an issue with my height. I’m five feet seven inches, above average height for a woman, but given my athletic build—a result of my love of exercise—I have always felt if I were taller, I would at least appear to be more slender, like Rose, who has two whole inches on me. That girl’s luck in life started in utero.

Stepping out of the elevator, I turn left and head for the Lakeview Penthouse Suite. I swallow hard at the thought of coming face-to-face with this beautiful man and dread who else might be behind his door.

I knock and stand frozen, waiting. I glance up at the peephole. What if he’s watching me? Here we go again. I feel my armpits dampen, and my heart is racing. The door swings open.

Hello, Elizabeth. He appears surprised to see me.

My gaze travels down to the towels. Speak, Elizabeth, speak. Two more towels for you, Mr. Roderick. I extend my arms but don’t look up. My eyes are fixated on his bare feet and rolled dark jeans, which are damp at the ankle.

Very nice of you to deliver them. I suppose there isn’t much staff this time of night. His cheerful voice brings my eyes farther up his body to where his dress shirt sleeves are rolled up.

Plus this place is pretty dead on Thursday nights in May, I say, shaking with nerves as I bring my eyes to his. I focus on his long eyelashes and pale blue eyes, the eyes I first noticed looking at me two years ago, the eyes I’ve felt upon me many times since then, even though I never had the courage to acknowledge them.

It’s still a bit cold on the north shore in May, so I suppose business is slower. He tips his head to find my eyes, which have wandered to the subtle dimple on his chin. I hadn’t noticed it until just now.

Does he want to keep talking? Doesn’t he need to get back to his date? My stomach clenches at the thought. Yeah, but it picks up again in June. That’s when we have the big music festival, I offer as he turns to set down the towels on the table next to the door. I scan the room in search of a woman’s presence. My eyes widen in horror as I spot a lump in the bed and a cluster of blond hair peaking out over the top of the covers. Someone is here in his bed. I keep staring. I can’t look away. Why am I so surprised? He said he missed all his beautiful ladies. How many does he have?

Yeah, I do recall an impressive turnout for the music festival last year, he says, turning back toward the door.

I’m still staring at the bed. I feel my face burning. It takes every bit of strength I have to look up at him, knowing my face is beet red.

You were there? So was I, I manage to get out. But I know very well he was here during that time. I remember seeing him leaving that morning for a run and wishing I was out on the trail, not stuck behind a desk for the day.

Oh, man, that ten-piece band with all those horns that played last was amazing. I wish they were in the lineup for this year too. I made sure to book a room early so I wouldn’t miss out.

I glance back over at the bed before speaking. They were pretty great. So anyway, I better get back to work. I start to turn away but quickly turn back to him. Is there anything else you need, Mr. Roderick? I feel instantly proud of myself for finishing our conversation on a professional note.

Just now, a beautiful, tall, slender blond steps out from the bathroom. She’s wearing a lovely pale-blue silk shirt with a black belt cinched at the waist, black leggings, and a pair of high-heeled boots that stop a few inches below her knees. She is breathtaking.

Marshall, have you seen my phone? It was— Seeing me, she stops mid-sentence.

I can feel the color leave my face, and my knees feel like they might give out.

Oh, hi there, she says. Sorry if I interrupted you.

Gorgeous and polite. I can’t compete with that. Not that I’m in the running. I’ve got to get out of here.

I think we’re set. Thank you, Elizabeth. His cheerfulness seems to have faded a bit. He’s in heaven with Miss Mile-Long Legs, and I can’t begin to imagine what the one in his bed looks like. No wonder he needed more towels. A ménage à trois can get messy, I’d imagine. My

Reviews for It Will Always Be You

[naturalbri-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What I Thought:This was a good read. I am still finding my feet, when it comes to romance, especially contemporary romance. I am not certain which parts of the genre I like and don' like. Upon reading the blurb of this book, I knew it could go either way. Some parts of the blurb really pulled me in, and made me excited for the read, whilst others made me think the book might not be the type I would enjoy. However, I was pleasantly surprised at just how much I enjoyed. I found the book intriguing and the characters enjoyable. Their story, whilst both heartwarming and tearjerking, was fun to read. I like the depth that the characters were given, and the fact that, just like in real life, they were given challenges to overcome. These challenges weren't trivial, they were earth-shattering and ultimately put their relationship on the brink. Reading along as they battled through the good and bad, was heartwarming, in an odd way, as it really encompassed the feeling that you have with someone you love - you'll challenge yourself to things beyond your imagination, in order to be with the one you love. Often, just like in this story, the challenges can mean that you need to be willing to change, grow and let the past go. I won't give away, any of the read, but I would suggest reading this book if you are a fan of tearjerking, give-all love stories, like the notebook. Whilst I am not usually, I found this book rather good, and a very enjoyable read. The pace is great, the characters are real and have depth and the story is a pretty good one. I know I'll be recommending this round, especially to my mum, as she'll love it!

[kjfarnham · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It Will Always Be You tells the story of Elizabeth, a young woman who hasn’t had the best luck with relationships, and Marshall, a hunky, head-turning businessman. Elizabeth works at a hotel where Marshall frequently stays while on business trips, and she has been eyeing him for quite some time, afraid to make a move because she assumes he is a playboy. After a chance encounter leads to a date, romance blossoms, and Elizabeth slowly comes to realize that there is so much more to Marshall than meets the eye.I enjoyed the development of Elizabeth and Marshall’s relationship. It was clear through early interactions that they were attracted to each other, but they managed to hold back from jumping each other’s bones right away. When they finally did become intimate, I appreciated the realistic progression of their encounters. Ness did a great job of writing hot-n-heavy scenes that aren’t cheesy or repetitive.In addition to romance, this book also offers a bit of suspense surrounding Marshall’s family and something traumatic that happens to Elizabeth. I was glad when nothing turned out to be too far-fetched. However, I was disappointed with Marshall’s reaction when Elizabeth told him who was responsible for the traumatic event she experienced. I think this was the only part in the story that seemed unreal. I just couldn’t see Marshall reacting the way he did, given his strong feelings for Elizabeth.Another thing that bothered me was how down on herself Elizabeth was at times. She’s a smart, independent woman with big dreams to become an interior designer, yet she has such low self-esteem. Parts like this made me so sad: “The husband, kids, and home are highly unlikely for the unlovable, but a girl can dream.”The ending was perfect. I’ll be reading part two, Before There Was You, which is told from Marshall’s perspective instead of Elizabeth’s.Memorable Quotes:“The searing heat of his hands and his heavenly scent made my blood boil and my clitoris sing.”“I don’t want to be without him. He’s like my drug, my medicine, my addiction.”“I can’t help but feel that the two of us are dooming any possible future while we protect ourselves from the things that hurt us most.” (This one really spoke to me. People often sabotage relationships for this very reason.)