Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)(50)

She turned at the bedroom door and looked back at him. “Pres…please.”

I love you, Mrs. Winslow…

How was it possible he’d said those words to her less than an hour ago? They circled in his head, taunting him, torturing him, making him feel stupid and vulnerable and grieved beyond words, beyond bearing.

It was too painful to hold her eyes anymore so he dropped them, staring down at his lap in misery. When he looked up again, she was gone.

The ink on their marriage certificate wasn’t even dry…and his wife was gone.





PART II





Chapter 12


Present Day


Preston Winslow didn’t date.

…a fact that didn’t stop his little sister, Jessica Winslow, from making Preston’s dating life one of her top priorities. The more he stonewalled her? The more she rose to the challenge. And as her wedding loomed—yes, loomed, thought Preston, ignoring the automatic bitterness which accompanied the word “wedding” in his head—closer, she was more and more one-track minded.

“But Pres,” whined Jessica, “you can’t come stag to my engagement party. It’s just weird!”

“Then I guess I’ll just be your weird big brother.”

“Nope,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and following him from his bedroom, where he’d just dropped off his bags for the weekend. He walked down the second-floor gallery of Westerly, their family’s estate, with Jess on his heels. “Sorry, but I got you a date.”

Preston stopped at the top of the stairs and whipped around to face her. “Are you nuts?”

Jessica stepped back but raised her chin bravely. “No, I’m not. Brooks is flying home tonight with Skye, Cameron is bringing Margaret Story, and Christopher’s bringing Connie Atwell.”

“And who, pray tell, am I supposed to be bringing?”

Jessica cleared her throat, having the decency to look sheepish as she murmured, “Be— At—.”

Preston cupped his hand around his ear, skewering her with a glare. “Sorry, didn’t catch that name.”

She took another step back from him and said clearly, “Beth Atwell.”

Beth. Beth Atwell, Connie’s cousin, whom he’d been dating the night he first saw…saw… He swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing all thoughts of her out of his mind.

“Well then you can just call Beth Atwell and cancel.”

“I can’t do that,” said Jessica, following him down the stairs. “She’s staying the weekend with Connie and it would be rude for Connie to come and not to invite Beth.”

“Not my problem,” said Preston, sidestepping a caterer who was crossing Westerly’s front hallway with a large tray of gleaming champagne glasses.

Jessica got held up momentarily behind two enormous flower arrangements, but caught up with Preston in the west parlor, which housed a large billiard table and doubled as a TV room. She jerked her head toward the pool cues racked on the wall.

“I’ll play you. If you lose, you be nice to Beth tomorrow night.”

Preston narrowed his eyes at Jessica. She didn’t need to cheat, but she often did. “No cheating.”

“Got it,” she said, pulling a cue from the wall and rubbing the tip in blue chalk.

“I mean it…if I catch you cheating, you forfeit and you can’t bother me about my dating life for a full year.”

Jessica stuck the pool cue under her arm so that she could use her incredibly annoying air quotes as she asked, “Dating life?”

Preston rolled his eyes at her and pulled the triangle off the wall so he could rack the balls.

“For me to ignore your”—air quotes again—“dating life, you’d need to actually have one.”

“God, you’re annoying,” said Preston, fishing the cue ball out from a tray under the table. “I don’t know how Alex stands you.”

“He loves me,” said Jess, aiming for the yellow ball at the front of the neat triangle and splitting two stripes into the back corner pockets with a sassy grin. “That’s how.”

***

Thirty minutes later, Preston had a date to Jessica’s engagement party, although he could have sworn she palmed a ball into the side pocket while he bent down to tie his topsiders. Oh, well. It was his own fault for letting his guard down for even a moment. He should know better than to trust a woman…even his own sister.

“Beth’s getting to Connie’s tonight. Why don’t you give her a ring and tell her how much you’re looking forward to renewing your acquaintance?’

“Why don’t you butt out? I said I’d be nice and I’ll be nice, but I’m not interested in her.”

“You’re not interested in anyone,” said Jessica softly, sitting next to her older brother on a brown leather couch. “How come?”

Preston looked askance at her, trying hard to look bored and annoyed, even though this particular conversation always got his heart pumping uncomfortably. “Why do you care, Jess? You and Alex will live happily ever after. You got Brooks saddled with Skye, God help him. Cam’s been following Margaret around like a puppy dog for weeks. How about leaving me alone?”

“I can’t live happily ever after if you’re unhappy ever after,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her coal black hair was back in a ponytail, but it tickled his cheek. It had been a long time since a woman’s hair had brushed against his cheek. Since…since…