Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)(32)
Getting out of bed, she padded over to the door in her pajamas then opened it to the smell of coffee wafting down the hallway. Making her way to the living room, she peeked around the corner to see Preston in the kitchen, his back to her, humming along to classical music as he—from the smell of it—fried himself some eggs. His back was broad in a white dress shirt, and his hair was still damp from the shower he’d probably taken after his run this morning. She suppressed a whimper. Her heart clenched. Her muscles bunched. Her fingers trembled by her sides, wanting to touch him, wishing that he didn’t have to go to his internship and could just stay home with her all morning.
Leaning against the living room wall, she realized that she’d heard the same piece of classical music several times over the past week. It was lyric and lovely, if a little sad, but she’d never been much for classical music and didn’t know the name of it.
Walking stealthily across the living room, she pulled out one of the stools arranged under the kitchen bar and sat down, fixing a bright smile on her face. When he plated his eggs and turned around, he jumped, then grinned at her, surprised to find her sitting there.
“Where’d you come from?”
“My boyfriend’s bed.”
His eyes dipped to the front of her T-shirt, and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth before lifting his eyes to hers.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked, a little extra gravel in his voice.
“No. I’m too excited to sleep. What are you listening to?”
“Beethoven. It’s called Für Elise.”
“For Elise?” she asked, feeling delighted.
He nodded, grinning at her.
“You listen to it a lot.”
“Mm-hm,” he murmured, “I’ve always liked it, but it has new meaning for me lately.”
“I think you’re wonderful,” she said, putting her elbows on the counter and leaning over it to kiss him good morning. His mouth tasted like mint and coffee, which shouldn’t have been such an arousing, delicious combination, but Elise found that it was. She reached up to brush her fingers through the wet curls on the back of his neck, grinning up at him when she finally pulled away to eat his breakfast.
“I think you’re amazing,” he said, caressing her face with his dark eyes.
“You’re sinfully handsome.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re scorchingly sexy.”
“You’re ridiculously sweet.”
“You’re…” Suddenly he looked down at his eggs, biting on his bottom lip again. When he looked up at her, he searched her eyes, before saying, “I have a present for you. I was saving it for tonight, after the show, but…Want it now?”
A present? She giggled softly in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“I wanted to.”
“Sure, I’d love it now,” she said, and he rounded the counter, planting another kiss on her lips before heading to the back hall that led to his bedroom, the guest room and his office.
When he returned, he held out a small, robin’s egg blue box that she was positive read Tiffany & Co. in white lettering on top.
“Tiffany’s?” she gasped.
He shrugged, placing the box on the counter in front of her. Fishing a fork from the silverware drawer, he stood across from her and speared a piece of egg before looking up at her.
“It’s just a little thing. To say congratulations and…”
She untied the white ribbon carefully, then opened the box to reveal a sterling silver keychain decorated with a simple silver heart engraved with the date and the words: Tonight it begins… On the keychain were four keys.
She looked up at Preston, her voice breathy with emotion. “And?”
“Stay,” he whispered, searching her eyes like they were a lifeline. “Please stay.”
Touched beyond words, she looked back down at the bright blue box as one plump tear splashed to the marble countertop. She reached for the key ring with shaking fingers and took it from the box.
“At least until the show’s over,” he said, resting his palms flat on the counter, his breakfast forgotten. “I like having you here. I don’t want you to have to worry about finding a place. I don’t want you to leave.”
“What are they for?” she asked, her voice breaking a little as she held up the fresh-cut, shiny keys which jangled lightly as she held them.
“This building. This apartment. My car. And the apartment I own in Philly.”
“In Philadelphia?”
He cleared his throat. “In case you were ever there and needed a place to stay.”
She winced—a slight movement indicating the pain that comes from pleasure—and dropped his eyes, more tears joining the first. With one sweet and simple gesture, he was inviting her into his life officially and without reservation. She understood this, and it made her heart swell with love for him since belonging to him and with him was something she so desperately wanted.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, coming around the counter, but stopping just short of reaching for her.
“Because you’re so good to me,” she choked out, clasping the keys in her hand
All of her worries about propriety sailed out the window as she let herself be surrounded by his kindness and goodness, his thoughtfulness and understanding.