Proposing to Preston: The Winslow Brothers #2 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 8) (11 page)

Grinning at him, she’d slipped out of his arms and sprinted to their bedroom to change from her lounging-around sweats into a dress.

She’d stopped working at Bistro Chèvrefeuille about two weeks ago. Preston refused to take a dime for rent and without the additional expense, her salary from
Ethan Frome
could tidily cover her loan payments with some leftover.

Leaving her night job had the added benefit of allowing her more time with Preston. On Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, she wasn’t home until after the show at eleven, but every other night belonged to him. Her heart belonged to him. Her body—almost all of her body—belonged to him, and every morning she woke up in his arms.

No, they hadn’t had intercourse yet, but his fingers had reverently touched every plane and valley of her body, learning about her, discovering the newness of her, teaching her how a man loved a woman as he caressed the secret depths of her sex and brought her to unimaginable pleasure. And Elise was his grateful and willing student, tentatively learning about him too, remembering a touch that made him groan softly or clench his jaw with pleasure. A feather touch below his waist that would make him roll her to her back and kiss her ruthlessly like he’d never get enough of her. And when she flexed her hips, arching them into his, he would pant into her neck, whispering how much he wanted her, how much he cared for her, how wonderful and beautiful she was.

And yet, despite their growing passion, he had never pressured her or tried to guilt her into moving faster. Sex was something she’d always imagined she’d save for her husband, for her one and only, before the eyes of God. Lapsed Mennonite or not, it was the hardest line for her to cross, and she still felt a hint of panic when she contemplated it. Even though she’d started taking birth control—just to be careful—she wasn’t quite ready yet to actually do the deed. And Preston, her patient angel, was gentle with her, careful, almost reverent with his touch, ever seeking her permission to move forward, never wanting to cross her unmarked boundaries without her consent.

She loved him for it. She loved him more every day. And though they hadn’t actually exchanged the words yet, she was sure that he loved her, too. Never having been in love before, she understood the part of Mattie Silver better than she did the day she’d taken the role. She wasn’t acting anymore. In her heart she knew the all-consuming, glorious burn of falling in love with someone for the first time. Off the stage, she was being swept away by love, and on it, she used her newfound passion to bring her character to a level of realism. In the words of one New York Times reviewer, “…rarely seen in the hallowed halls of Broadway.”

When she looked at Ethan, she saw Preston. As she fell in love with Ethan, she was falling in love with Preston. While kissing Ethan, she was really kissing Preston. And when she said she’d rather die than live without Ethan, a part of her acknowledged that her feelings for Preston were surpassing everything else: her upbringing, her conscience…everything but her ambition, which kept a steely eye on the future but bent its neck in a whispered confession that losing him might break her.

The day of Elise’s final performance as Mattie Silver dawned dark and gray, raining cats and dogs over the island of Manhattan. Compounding her melancholy over the end of
Ethan Frome
was the fact that Preston was headed to Philadelphia to take the Pennsylvania bar exam, wouldn’t be back in New York in time to catch her final performance. Lying on her side, in the safe, warm cocoon of his arms, she stared balefully out the floor to ceiling bedroom window across from the bed, watching the raindrops slide down the glass in rivulets.

“I’m going to stay,” Preston said, his lips moving softly on the back of her neck, his warm breath at once soothing and arousing. “I’m not going to miss your big night. I can take the exam next year.”

“Absolutely not,” she replied.

“Elise, I already took New York and I’m sure I did well. I already have the job. It’s done. I can take Pennsylvania next year if I still want to. But, really, what’s the point? We both work here in New York. There’s no need for me to take the Pennsylvania exam now, and besides, it’s your last—”

She flipped over, lying flat on her back and looking up at Preston who was propped on his elbow hovering over her.

“No,” she said firmly, nailing him with her mother’s no-nonsense glare. “Now, stop.”

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Why can’t we talk about this?”

She reached up and palmed his cheek, forcing him to look down at her. “I’m not here to ruin your plans…or change them. You wanted to be able to practice in New York and Pennsylvania. That was your plan. That
is
your plan. You’re taking the test.”

He dropped his elbow and fell onto his back beside her, huffing softly. “It feels wrong not to be there for you tonight.”

“Well, it’s not wrong,” she said, leaning up on her elbow now, distractedly tracing words in his chest.
Elise. Loves. Pres
. “I would never dream of standing in the way of your career.”

He was silent for a long moment before looking up at her, a small, tender smile playing on his lips. “Me too.”

“You too…what?”

“I love you, too.”

Her finger stilled, and she flattened her palm over his heart, her eyes suddenly glistening as they locked with his. “I do. I love you.”

“I know.” He grinned at her, reaching up to brush her tears away. “You just wrote it on my chest.”

“I would write it in the stars,” she murmured, stroking a rogue black wave from his forehead, “so that every night when you looked at the sky, my love would shine back at you.”

His jaw worked as he swallowed. “What’s that from?”

“A play I did in college,” she said, laughing softly as she wiped away another happy tear.

“Marry me,” he whispered in the same low, passionate tone that had beseeched her
Please don’t say no
at the stage door when he surprised her with a picnic, and
Please stay
when he gave her his keys.

His eyes, green and clear, held hers with the same tenderness that had become so familiar, and yet still so precious, to her. Their short courtship flashed before her eyes: Preston walking her home from the theater and buying her flowers, Preston waiting for her every evening at the fountain, Preston giving her a place to live, Preston teaching her heart—and her body—how to love.

In all the world, there would never be anyone who loved her as he did. She knew this. She knew it like she’d known, as a small child, that God had created the world and the heart in her chest and the mind in her head.

Staring back at him, at the face that she’d grown to love so quickly over the past couple of months, she heard herself whisper, “Yes.”

His eyes flashed open with surprise. “Yes?”

“Yes,” she said again, laughing at his shocked face as she leaned down to press her lips to his. He groaned with pleasure, rolling her onto her back and covering her body with his.

An impromptu marriage proposal! It was so passionate, it felt almost unreal—like a wonderfully dreamy scene from a beautiful movie.

“Tomorrow,” he rasped, his eyes searching hers desperately, his breath quick and panting against her cheek. “When I come home. Just you and me. Let’s just do it!”

Tomorrow?

Tomorrow felt so soon. And yet…

…they loved each other, right? And they lived together, for all intents and purposes. What was the point of waiting?

Swept away by the romance of the moment, she grinned up at him. “Tomorrow?”

“Just you and me,” he repeated, leaning back to look into her eyes.

“But your family…” she started, real life intruding. He had family. She had family. Oh, God, her family…

He read her face like a book. “I don’t want my family there if yours won’t be there, and I’m guessing that they wouldn’t come if you married a Lutheran, right?”

Feeling bad and hoping the truth didn’t hurt his feelings, she nodded.

He kissed her. “It doesn’t bother me, sweetheart. We can tell our families later. Tomorrow will just be about us.”

He was so good to her. She didn’t know what she’d done in her life to deserve him, or what debt she would owe in accepting him, but how could she say no?

“Is it possible to get married that quickly?” she asked, the excitement of his proposal overtaking any real-life concerns.

“Sure. The Manhattan Marriage Bureau only requires twenty-four hours.”

She beamed at him. “How do you know that?”

“I’m an entertainment lawyer! Do you know how many athletes and actors do quickie weddings?”

“A lot?”

“Tons,” he said. “We’d do the paperwork this morning before I head to Philly …and we’ll go back tomorrow afternoon to say…I do.” He kissed her lips quickly, then rolled off of her, swinging his legs over the bed and striding purposefully to his closet. He rifled through a few suit jackets before turning back to her with a wobbly smile.

Circling back around the bed, he knelt down on the floor beside her. Snapping open a small white box, he looked at the brilliant diamond ring for a moment, as though to ensure it was still there, before lifting his eyes to hers. She scrambled to sit up, covering her breasts with a sheet and gazing down at him with tears streaming down her face. When did he plan this? For how long? It was so romantic, tears sprang to her eyes.

“I love you, Elise Klassan.” He stopped speaking for a moment and blinked, clenching his jaw once before continuing. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with someone as brave and talented and surprising and loving and…
amazing
as you.”

She swiped at her tears, holding out her trembling hand so he could slip the giant diamond onto her fourth finger. He leaned forward as she reached for his face, her tears and laughter mixing as she kissed him. Rolling back onto the bed, he planted his elbows on either side of her shoulders and hovered over her, his face a study in happiness.

“You’re going to marry me tomorrow,” he said, brushing her hair from her forehead before kissing her tenderly. When he drew back, his smile was dazzling.

“Yes,” she said, smiling back at him. “I am.”

It wasn’t an especially romantic service, though Preston had picked up an enormous bouquet of white flowers on his way home, from which Elise plucked three blooms to hold. She wore a simple white sundress from her closet, and Preston wore a suit and tie. They held hands as they walked up the steps of City Hall, and sat side by side on a green leather couch, holding the license as they waited for their names to be called.

It wasn’t how Elise had pictured her wedding day in her dreams—surrounded by strangers in a civic building—but Preston’s proposal and her daring acceptance had packed enough romance to imbue the afternoon with a sense of genuine excitement. Not to mention, marrying Preston served another purpose for Elise; it severed her last ties to her past. Today she would marry a Lutheran and change her name to Winslow. With her first Broadway show closing to a fifteen minute standing ovation last night and her wedding today, Elise’s transformation from Mennonite farm girl to big city actress was complete.

After an hour wait, they were ushered into a small pink-walled room with a podium at the front. Standing across from one another, they said their vows, pledging to love, honor, cherish and protect each other, forsaking all others and holding only unto themselves forevermore. They were familiar words, comfortable lines that Elise had said on stage many times, and she grinned at Preston, her comrade in this adventure, as he slipped the gorgeous engagement ring back over her finger.

That her fingers trembled didn’t bother her, though it did—for a moment—blur the line between the daring romance of a whirlwind marriage and the very real life commitment she was making. And just for that moment, she felt a stab of something like unease, like uncertainty.

“Please continue holding hands,” said the older gentlemen officiating the service, “and look at one another.”

Preston’s eyes slid easily to hers, open wide and brimming with love and confidence. She offered him a small smile, but noticed the quickening of her heart, the niggling doubt that made her stomach flurry.

“Preston and Elise, as the two of you come into this marriage uniting you as husband and wife, and as you this day affirm your faith and love for one another, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as special and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas and suggestions of one another. Be able to forgive, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together, as from this day forward you shall be each other’s home, comfort and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect for each other.”

These words were new, not lines she knew by rote like their vows, and she listened to them carefully as she stared back at Preston.

Respect, forgiveness, comfort, refuge, and love. Big words.
Forever
words that felt—if she was honest—just the slightest bit
too
big, and more than a little overwhelming. Elise repeated the words to herself, her heart thundering as the magnitude of today started sinking in. This wasn’t just a romantic adventure and these weren’t just lines in a play. This wasn’t a scene, it was a marriage between two consulting adults…and these words were vows, like the ones her parents had once traded. She had just legally and spiritually bound her life to Preston’s.

Looking for a safe harbor from the sudden storm of her thoughts, she focused on Preston’s eyes shining with love as he smiled down at her, and she knew in her bones that his commitment to her was absolute and strong. He was here for all of the right reasons. The question was…Was she?

She breathed deeply, willing away her jitters as the officiant continued.

“Just as two threads woven in opposite directions will form a most beautiful tapestry, so too can your two lives merged together make a beautiful marriage. To make your relationship work will take love. This is the core of your marriage and why you are here today. It will take trust, to know in your hearts that you truly want the best for each other. It will take dedication, to stay open to one another and to learn and grow together. It will take faith, to go forward together without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey you both pledge today to share together.”

Holding onto Preston’s eyes like a lifeline, Elise saw every good quality commended to them shining back at her: love, trust, dedication, faith, and commitment. From the beginning, Preston had offered his love unconditionally to her, learned to trust her with her co-star, been dedicated to her happiness, had faith in her talent and showed a commitment to her comfort and care from the moment they started dating.

She dragged her bottom lip into her mouth, dropping her eyes to his chest. Was she able to offer the same to him?

Did she love him? Yes, she did, but she acknowledged that it was a new love, predated years by her love for the stage.

Did she trust him? In many ways, she did. She trusted him not to hurt her. She trusted that he cared deeply for her. But, if she was honest, she’d admit that she trusted herself more. She been her own guide, her own counsel, for years, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to turn over that trust, or any part of it, to someone else yet.

Could she be dedicated to him? Above all other men, yes. No problem. She didn’t want anyone else. But not above all other
concerns
. Her dedication to her career had shaped her entire adolescent and adult life. It was a driving factor in every decision she’d made since she was sixteen years old. Was it possible to shift that sort of dedication to her marriage just because they’d exchanged vows today?

Did she have faith in him? In them? No matter what the future had in store for them?

Her mind whirled and because she didn’t have answers, she stopped answering the questions as a heavy weight settled in her stomach. Preston squeezed her hands and she looked up, offering him a wobbly smile and swallowing over the lump in her throat.

For most of her life, she’d been so focused on one goal, she hadn’t left time for love. Honestly, she’d never seen him coming. He’d suddenly appeared in her life, fully formed, ready for love…and everything between them had moved so fast.

Had they moved
too
quickly? Were they ready to be married? More specifically, was
she
ready to be  married? The judge’s words about “two threads woven in opposite directions” stuck and stuttered in her mind, making her feel uncomfortable.

They didn’t have very much in common. What if they not only moved in opposite directions, but were opposite
threads
? Or
incompatible
threads? What if they didn’t form “a most beautiful tapestry?” What if they had been swept away by love and romance, but hadn’t truly considered that marriage meant a merging of two lives into one life? Was she ready to merge her life? To make sacrifices for him? To trust and have faith and hand over some of the control she’d fought for so desperately in her life?

The officiant cleared his throat meaningfully, and Elise snapped her head up, her thoughts scattering as Preston squeezed her hands and grinned expectantly. 

“In as much as Preston and Elise have this day consented together in the state of matrimony and have pledged their faith to each other, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Preston, you may kiss your bride.”

Pulling Elise into his arms, Preston searched her eyes for a long moment before whispering, “I love you, Mrs. Winslow,” and lowering his lips to hers.

Mrs. Winslow.

Elise Winslow.

She’d expected to feel relief and excitement to be called something other than Elise Klassan, but she didn’t. She felt uneasy. She felt uncertain. She felt unworthy of the title and terrified that she’d said yes to something as enormous as marriage. It made her heart flutter uncomfortably as she nodded at the officiant in thanks and let Preston pull her from the room, through the building and down the steps of the civic building.

In the cab ride back to their apartment, Elise sat with her back against Preston’s chest, trying to find comfort in the familiar—his arm around her shoulders, the delicious scent of his starched shirt and mild aftershave. This was Preston, not some anonymous stranger. Preston, whom she loved. Preston, who took care of her, and was kind to her, and supported her ambition.

She tried to talk herself out of her misgivings, making a list in her head of why marrying Preston today was the right decision for her life. Topping the list was her genuine love for him and his devotion to her. So, why was she worried? What was making her feel uncertain and introspective rather than confident and excited?

“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispered close to her ear, his lips grazing her skin and making a heavenly shiver run down her back.

Sex.

Her mind sputtered to a stop.

She was about to have sex.

Hmm. Maybe
that
was it.

They were going back to his apartment…as husband and wife. There were no more barriers between them. No moral conundrum. No further fit of conscience. In the eyes of God and man, she was his wife.  

Which meant she was about to have sex for the first time.

Her body relaxed against his as she considered this.

Was that it then?
she wondered with a growing sense of relief.
Was sex the source of her uncertainty and sudden jitters?

Without giving herself time to weigh the thought in her mind, she quickly decided it was. Of course it was.

It made perfect sense. She wasn’t worried about their whirlwind courtship, or the fact that they’d never met each other’s families, or the fear that their marriage would somehow interfere with her career, or the reality of meshing her wildly dissimilar life with Preston’s…no. She was simply apprehensive about what they were about to do in his—
their
—bed. That was it. That
had
to be it.

Except
, whispered the no-bullshit part of her brain,
you don’t seem very uneasy about sex. In fact, for the first time since saying “I do,” you seem…like a bride. Excited.

But she was already so focused on the fact that she was about to lose her virginity, the stark, intimidating realities of merging their lives together were blessedly pushed to the wayside. And as she shifted her thoughts, the knots in her stomach unwound and the lump in her throat relaxed. The tension that had been building up in her body over the last hour disappeared, and her belly started fluttering with excitement.

Anxious to stay in the moment and avoid any more troubling thoughts, she turned in his arms and said, “Kiss me.”

Preston licked his lips before sealing them over hers and plunging his tongue without warning into her mouth. He tightened his arms around her when she sucked on it strongly, shifting in her seat until her breasts were crushed against his chest. She wasn’t sure how he managed to pay the cabbie without releasing her mouth, but they ran into his apartment building still kissing frantically.

Preston backed her up against the wall of the elevator, grasping her backside and forcing her pelvis against his as he groaned into his mouth. She stood on her tiptoes, her arms wrapped around his neck, the sensitive points of her breasts longing for the wet heat of his mouth licking and sucking on her. The very idea was so erotic, she rocked her hips into his, meeting his tongue with frantic caresses while strangled sounds of pleasure, that sounded nothing like her normal voice, escaped from her throat. She raked her hands through his hair, frustrated that they were still technically in public and she couldn’t get closer to him.

Still kissing her, he unlocked the apartment door and pulled her inside, kicking it closed behind them and pushing her up against the back of the door. Elise kicked off her heels and slid her hands under his jacket to shove it to the floor. His fingers moved nimbly to the zipper at the back of her dress, releasing it in a quick, smooth
whoosh
and pushing the straps down her arms.

Drawing back to look into his beautiful eyes, she grinned at him, dropping her fingers to his shirt and unfastening the buttons as quickly as she could. As Preston shrugged it over his shoulders, Elise reached back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground on top of his discarded shirt.

“The bed,” she panted.

Preston lifted her into his arms, claiming her lips with his as he strode from the living room into the back hallway, kicking open the door to their bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed and Elise rose onto her knees, reaching for his belt, surprised when she felt his hands cover hers. She looked up in question.

He smiled, laughing softly. “Not that I don’t love every minute of this, but let’s slow down a little.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no rush.” He leaned down and brushed his lips gently against hers. “Besides, it’s not just your first time, it’s also our wedding day, and I-I mean, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but—”

The doubts she’d successfully banished when they started kissing began to encroach again, so she grinned up at him, working his belt open, even though his hands were still pressed over hers.