Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)(82)

“Not yet,” said Preston, his eyes full of warning. “We’re still working things out. I mean it, Jess. Mum’s the word for now.”

Jessica nodded solemnly.

“Not to be nosy—” started Brooks.

“Why stop now?” deadpanned Preston.

Brooks gave his little brother a look and continued, “What are you doing here… alone?”

“We’re giving it a week.”

“Ugh!” exclaimed Jessica. “What?”

“A week!” Brooks winced. “Why?”

Preston laughed softly at the appalled looks on his siblings faces. Not that he needed to know, and granted, it was sort of a gross thought, but he suspected that they burned as hot for their mates as he did for Elise. And yes, he had to admit that a week felt like hell when holding her was heaven on earth, but…

“Because we’re doing things right this time,” he said softly, looking first at Jessica, and then at Brooks, who nodded in understanding. “Because this time is forever.”





Chapter 21


Make It Work


Precisely at six o’clock p.m. on Friday night, Preston pulled up in front of Chateau Nouvelle to pick her up, and Elise bounded down the stairs, leaping into his arms as he exited the car. Never, ever had a week felt so long.

He caught her easily and she cupped his cheeks, covering his face with kisses as she locked her ankles around his waist, held close by his strong hands under her backside. She wouldn’t let him speak, wouldn’t let him do anything but hold her until she’d had her fill of kisses, until she felt like they’d made up for a little bit of the deprivation they’d both suffered during these long, lonely days apart.

“I missed you,” she gasped, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and arching into him when he groaned, his fingers tightening.

“Me too,” he panted, sealing his mouth over hers and thrusting his tongue forward. She circled it with her own, arching her breasts against him, feeling the tight, taut points push against the hard wall of muscle that was his chest.

“Oh, my God, you two! Get a room!”

They broke apart from each other, with glistening lips and dazed, happy eyes, turning in tandem to see Jax standing in the doorway of the mansion, shaking her head.

“There’s still crew wrapping things up out back. And who knows? There could be paparazzi in the bushes!”

As Preston gently lowered Elise to the ground, she noted the manila envelope in her hostess’s hand. Elise’s eyes widened, cutting to Jax’s face, as Preston’s arms tightened around her.

“I take it you don’t need these papers anymore?” Jax asked, waggling the envelope and raising her eyebrows. “I found them in the parlor after you left for the funeral…I peeked inside, but I didn’t think it was any of my business.”

“You were right,” said Preston sharply. “It’s not.”

Jax held out the envelope, rolling her eyes at the neighbor she’d known all her life. “Calm your tits, Winslow. Here you go.”

“You didn’t…tell anyone, did you?” asked Elise.

“Like I said,” said Jax, turning back to the house, “it’s none of my business. But can I give you two a little advice? If you’re going to keep doing that, you might want to figure out how to tell the rest of the world that you’ve been married for two years. It’s going to get out, and it’s better to get ahead of these things.” Before closing the door, she faced them once more. “And whenever you’re ready, I’d love to hear the whole story.”

Preston turned back to Elise once Jax was gone. “Don’t worry. I’ve known Jax Rousseau forever. She won’t say anything.”

“Okay,” said Elise, feeling relieved.

“So, about tonight…you’ve had a week to think things over…”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re uncertain about my intentions? After that greeting?”

He shrugged, grinning at her. “Just want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Marriage Summit. You and me. Tonight.”

“And then?” he asked in a gravelly voice, and she could feel his erection through his pants, hard and pulsing, pushing against her belly.

“And then I was thinking we should consummate our marriage…all over again.”

His eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re my wife? You’re much bolder than she was.”

“Any complaints?”

“None.”

“She wasn’t ready,” said Elise with a saucy grin. “But I am.”

“Thank God.”

He kissed her again, more slowly this time, caressing her tongue with his and loving her lips with gentle nips and tugs. Her legs were jelly when he finally drew away, and she suspected her eyes were just as dark and hungry as his when he opened her door and helped her into the car.

***

Preston had originally decided to order Chinese food and serve it to her at his apartment as an homage to their New York days, but frankly, he wasn’t sure they’d be able to keep their hands off of each other long enough to have an actual conversation, so he decided to park at his apartment building but take her to a small, local French bistro instead. First they’d talk. Then—he smiled to himself, trying to ignore the raging hard-on he’d had since she’d leapt into his arms—they’d re-consummate.