“Just in Case” by Elizabeth Marx
He’s been waiting for her all these years…
Scarlett Marbry was sixteen when her mother, an acclaimed Sacred Harp singer, committed suicide, sending her away from Crossroads, Alabama and whatever pushed her mother over the edge. Seven years later, she’s returning for her grandparents’ funeral and the letter her mother left her when she died. Not only does Scarlett have to face her deep Southern roots, but the one she left behind.
She’s never thought she was good enough for him…
Revell Marshall is used to working with fragile objects. He’s built a life and career around reassembling the delicate stained glass windows that saved the small town of Crossroads from ruin. Once Scarlett returns, he’s determined to win her heart, even if that means helping her piece together the facts of her mother’s past and exposes truths he’d rather leave buried.
What happens when your secrets are revealed to the world?
You better hold on tight to the one person you think you can trust…
Just in case.
“Revell?” she hissed, as if confused. Her perfectly formed mouth was frozen in the shape of an ‘O’.
My name on her lips hit me like a F150 clocked over the speed limit, impacting the center of my chest like a head on collision. I had forgotten what a simple look from Sister Scarlett Marbry could do to a man. Possibly, because the last time she’d looked at me, she was only the outline of the woman she would one day be. At eighteen, she was a mere shadow of the gorgeous woman that leaned over the bar in front of me now.
Scarlett looked back at her barely restrained backside and tried to turn and reclaim her seat. Unfortunately, the snakeskin stilettos she was wearing had the slippery intent of the evildoer in the Garden of Eden, and Scarlett slithered onto the stool with enough force that the barstool fell backwards.
I was known throughout the state of Alabama for both my gentlemanly behavior and my athletic grace, but even I wasn’t capable of discarding the “crate of whiskey fast enough to stop Scarlett’s head from colliding with the table behind her on her way to the floor. Plus, I couldn’t chance breaking the quart sized mason jars of what would be P.M.’s last batch of hooch because I wanted his final send off and everything associated with him wiped from the minds of Marshall County as if he’d never existed. And the moonshine would expedite that.
Now here, at my booted feet, fell the last of his progeny, the one thing about him that I’d allowed myself to remember and remember well.
The only thing that came from him worth having . . . and Heaven help me. . . as inappropriate as it was I still wanted to have her.
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**About author, Elizabeth Marx:
Windy City writer, Elizabeth Marx, brings cosmopolitan life alive in her fiction—a blend of romance, fast-paced Chicago living, and a sprinkle of magical realism. Elizabeth resides with her husband, girls, and two cats who’ve spelled everyone into believing they’re really dogs. She grew up in the city, has traveled extensively, and still says there’s no town like Chi-Town.