The Billionaire's Reluctant Pregnant Bride: A BWWM Romance (18 page)

Preston knew when he wasn’t going to win, so he just kissed my forehead.

I tap my pencil on the edge of the page and think about home.

The dappled sunlight streaming through the trees. The gentle tickling of grass beneath your fingertips. The clouds moving over the clear blue sky. The changing leaves in fall. How my feelings have changed so much since then…

I stop my tapping.

That’s it.

I grab a watercolor sheet, lay down a ruler with my left hand and tear with my right. Then, I get to work.

I mix autumn colors. Wine red. Ochre. Burnt umber. Sienna. I love the sensuous spread of pigment on the page. How it’s thin enough to to reveal the tooth of the paper. It perfectly revealed the essence of my theme. Love that was hard won, slow, honest, patient—and most of all, real.

A small, sad smile spreads over my lips as I think of all the misunderstandings and mistakes we made. And yet, despite all of those things, we somehow found ourselves
here
—surrounded by love.

Preston knocks on the door and I look up.

“How is it coming?” he asks.

“Great. I finally figured it out.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” he says, stepping forward.

A beam of sunlight hits his hair.

A beam of sunlight…

His hair…

I drop my paintbrush.

No.

Pain and devastation claw through my stomach and strangle my throat.

No. No. No.

I remember.

I don’t want to remember, but I do.

“What is it, Tachell?” he asks, eyes wide with concern.

But he can’t help me.

He can’t ever help me again.

Because now that I remember, I can’t ever marry him.

Chapter 22

Tachell – Memory

I lean against the railing, glancing up at the magnificent mansion from the porch. Well, from one of them at least. And, not for the first time this evening, I wonder why the hell I even came to this stupid party. Just a bunch of drunk recent grads, most of whom I’d probably never see again. Not only that, but my only friend here was Reggie. All of my other friends had proven their intelligence once again by staying far away from this night of drunken debauchery. And I’d proven myself to be a sap because Reggie hadn’t wanted to go alone.

You have Preston
, I told him.

Preston will leave me immediately. All the girls cling to him.

All the girls cling to you, too.

Please, Tachell.

Fine. I’ll support you.

And what did all that sisterly love get me? Forty-five minutes after we arrived, he went off to one of the upstairs bedrooms with Clarissa. Now I had to wait for him to finish so we could finally go home.

“Hey Tachell,” an unfortunately very familiar voice slurs.

I glower at the man weaving in the doorway. I wish I could say Preston looked stupid with a drunk grin on his face, but he doesn’t.

Preston starts “walking” over to me. I sigh, turning my back to him as he flops over the side of the railing.

“So, Everett,” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.”

I snort. What the hell? “Yeah, Everett. Why do you care?”

There’s a tick in his jaw. He grips his plastic beer cup a little harder. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, exactly. So if I want to fuck Everett, it’s none of your business.”

His eyes flash up from his glass, full of heat. I’ve never seen anything like it, I don’t know what it means. I’ve never seen him look at me that way—at anyone or anything that way. He grips my arm, pulling me close. “You’re fucking him?”

I wasn’t. I actually hadn’t ever been with anyone. I was thinking about it, but I wanted to wait until it felt right. It didn’t feel right with Everett or most of the guys I went to school with. I’d heard guys like him talking about me, they thought I was easy just because I didn’t have as much money and wasn’t pretty like the other girls. It infuriated me.

However, none of this should be Preston’s concern. So why was he looking at me like he was never going to let. Me go?

My heart beats faster. Furiously fast. Frighteningly fast. I back up but he’s still advancing until he has either hand on the side of the balcony so I can’t escape, caging me in. I feel the heat from his body radiating off of him, the strength of his muscles through his clothes. Every part of him, strong and taut and ready for…something.

“You’re scaring me,” I whisper.

He leans closer, almost close enough that our lips are touching. “Good.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m glad you’re starting to see me as something more than your brother’s best friend.”

“You don’t need to do this. I already see you as something more. An
asshole
.”

His expression deflates. His grip on me loosens. “Is that all you see me as, Tachell?”

I shiver. It’s the wind, because it’s so cold out here and so hot inside. It’s because he’s too close to me and acting all creepy. That’s the only reason I’m shivering. I’m sure of it. “Yes,” I whisper.

His eyes go hard again. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, luckily I don’t have to convince you.”

“But how much longer are you going to be able to convince yourself?”

What the hell is he getting at? I glare into his eyes, and they’re dark and full of something I don’t want to put a name to. My stomach is filling with a feeling I don’t want to acknowledge. Too many things are happening at once, and none of them make sense.

One of his hands comes up to cup my cheek. When his fingers make impact with my skin, my eyelids flutter. My entire body starts feeling like a thousand fireworks are about to take off.

“You’re drunk,” I whisper.

“No, I’m not. But I wish I were. Then, maybe, I’d do something beautiful we could both regret later.”

I push him away. “Stop teasing me.” I turn, gripping the railing, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m not teasing.” He brushes my hair from the back of my neck, sending more goosebumps down the back of my neck.

“Stop touching me.”

He sighs, stepping to the side. He grips the railing like he’s about to break it. “Don’t sleep with him, Tachell.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

This was just…weird. What the hell was going on? “Did Reggie put you up to this?”

“No. Pretty sure he’d kill me if he knew I was talking to you like this. Or maybe not. You did just say you were fucking Everett.”

“I can fuck whoever I want. When the time is right, I’ll do it. No one owns me, not you or Reggie.”

He looks down. “Keep it that way.”

“What?”

“I’ll only give you to someone who loves you,” he stumbles forward, gripping my shoulders.

“You really are drunk,” I whisper.

“No,” he slurs. “I’m not.”

I push him away and start walking. I hear him call my name, but I’m already moving through the party and out the front door. What else was I supposed to do? Preston wasn’t the kind of man who could be tamed, and he certainly had no special feelings for me.

So why did I…why did I…?

I cringe. It was too horrible to even to myself in my own mind. I had a crush on him.

Yeah, it was pathetic. I hated to admit it. I hated, even more, to wonder when it had started. My mother had raised me to respect myself, and falling for Preston Easterbrook was the exact opposite of respecting myself. The man had everything handed to him. He was reckless. And, most of all, he didn’t respect me. He took every opportunity he could to tease me and make my life a living hell.

But there were moments when I thought I saw more in the way he looked at me. Moments when his behavior could be almost described as sweet. Though they were fleeting, they’d left an impression on me. And, I guess over the years I’d known him, all those little moments that should have been insignificant had piled into something big.

Very big.

There seemed to be two Prestons: The one he was and the one the world wanted him to be.

I knew it was stupid. My traitorous vagina just had a thing for blue eyed devils. He was several billion dollars worth of trouble I did not need or want.

But that didn’t stop these unwanted aching sensations inside me.

Finally I’m out the front door. I take a deep breath of cold midnight air and make my way down the driveway.

Home wasn’t too far away. If I walked, I’d be there in about thirty minutes. I could use the time to think.

I press my fingertips to my lips. God, what was wrong with me? We hadn’t even kissed back there on the porch, but I felt like we had. My body is certainly buzzing like we had, too.

“Tachell!”

For a moment, I freeze as that familiar voice spills out over me, doing dangerously beautiful things to my insides. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t think about it. “I’m going home!” I yell without turning.

I feel something grab my wrist and spin me around. Preston is there in all his glory, the lights in the grass splaying across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones, angular features, making his face a dangerous mix of sunshine and shadow.

My heart races. God damnit! Why did I have to become aware of this now? Why did I have to want
him
, of all people? Why couldn’t I just fall in love with a nice boy, one who wouldn’t work black magic on my heart and make my body feverish and my mind a gooey stupid mess?

He pulls me closer. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I ask.

“Don’t go.”

I gulp. “Why not?” My voice sounds different than it normally does. A bit breathless. A bit uncertain. I’d always been certain of everything, always been so strong. He was making me weak, something I could never afford to be, and certainly not if I wanted to be taken seriously as an artist. I already knew that I’d have to face people every day who thought I couldn’t succeed. I couldn’t let them affect me.

I couldn’t let
him
affect me.

He brings my hand over to his heart. “Because…”

I shut my eyes and try to pull away, but it’s a halfhearted effort. Still, he lets my hand go at the first sign of my resistance. It makes me wonder why I wanted so fiercely to break free. Why does he have to shatter my defenses, to make me doubt myself?

His fingers brush over my cheek, as gentle as flower petals. Slowly, gently, they tip up my chin so that I’m looking into those deep midnight blue eyes twinkling in the dark.

I can’t do this.

I shouldn’t do this.

But my protests are so difficult to remember when he’s this close and touching me so gently. He’s not breaking past my defenses, he’s
melting
them. He’s softly kissing away the protests of my conscious mind.

“I don’t want you to to go,” he admits.

“Why?” I ask again.

His eyes soften. I don’t think it’s possible for them to get softer, but they do somehow.

He moves so slowly and my heart is beating so fast it’s like an eternity passes before his lips reach mine. An eternity for me to rethink things. An eternity for me to push him away. But I don’t. I’m breathless with anticipation, tingling everywhere, so filled with desire that I can’t think straight. By the time he makes contact, I’m delirious.

This kiss is so different from the other kisses I’ve received up until now. Others have been clumsy as men try to claim me, competing with my power, trying to stifle my independence. This kiss asks me what I want. It shows me he is patient. It shows me he cares.

It’s respectful.

It’s strong without being overbearing.

He pulls back, and I grip his shirt, grabbing him, pulling him closer.

“No,” he says.

What the hell do you mean, no? You can’t kiss me like that and say no!
I shout.

He laughs, leaning forward until his lips rest on my forehead. “I mean, fuck. I forget.”

I scowl. “God damnit, you’re really drunk aren’t you?” Right. All that reserve and strength I read into his kiss probably has to do with the fact that he’s struggling not to pass out.

God. I could be so pathetic. So…desperate.

I really shouldn’t be here, letting him in like this. It wasn’t good for either of us. I push him away.

“Hey!” he yells, stumbling back. “I’m not drunk.”

“Yes you are.” I march onward, my shoes sinking into the soggy ground. Damn, these rich people sure loved to water their lawns. I bet their monthly water bill could pay my dad’s salary.

The truth was, I didn’t want anything to do with this world. Sure, I lived in it, but only partially. My family wasn’t respected. The friendships I made at school were wonderful, but I wasn’t one of them and I never would be. I had to fend for myself. I had my own dreams and my own ambitions. I wasn’t going to let anyone hold me back.

My parent’s biggest wish was to see me succeed. I remember telling my mother I would be a lawyer. I got good grades and excelled in class. I was sure I could get into a top law school. My mother just frowned at me.
Is that what you really want to do, Tachell?

Well, it makes a lot of money,
I explained.

And who needs money?
she asked.

You and dad.

Tachell, your dad and I take care of ourselves. We have a good house, a good job. We’re happy. We don’t need a lot, and we got enough to cover all our needs for the future. I didn’t work so hard to see my children not follow their dreams. I’m not gonna be a burden on you financially, now it’s up to you not to be a burden on me mentally. I want you to be true to yourself. I want you to never say no because you’re afraid. You want to help your dad and I out? You be a strong girl, Tachell. You live the life you want to live, just as we did.

You can’t argue with logic like that.

However, you can argue with logic like Preston’s.

“I’m not drunk!” he wails, racing towards me at an angle. Then at another angle. And then at another angle. I bet if I stand still he’d never reach me.