Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)

“My guess is three months.”


His eyes widened and it felt like she’d sucker punched him in the throat. “Three months? We haven’t been apart for more than a night since you moved in. We got married yesterday. We’re… we’re starting our life. Here. In New York. Together.”

He would have winced at the sound of his voice—the tone a man in the 1950s would have used to boss around “the little woman”—but he was too upset with the entire situation to critique his behavior.

She answered him crisply, unsmiling. “We’ll just have to start it when I get back.”

He skewered her with his eyes. “And what happens if they offer you another role after this one? Then what?”

She looked away from him. “We’ll deal with that when it happens.”

Not if, he noted. When.

“Elise, we never discussed L.A. as a possibility. I’m not licensed to practice law in California. I have a job here. A career here.”

“I know that!” she yelled.

Elise placed the dresses in the duffel bag and stared down at her floor, clasping her fingers together and taking a deep breath. Preston reached forward, snagging the pinkie of her left hand, and pulling her over to him. She stood between his legs and he adjusted their fingers, lacing his fingers through hers.

“I can’t pass this up,” she murmured, her voice breaking as she stared down at their fingers.

He felt a vulnerable spot and pushed his advantage.“Of course you can. What about Our Town at the Barrymore? You were so excited for that try-out next week. You were going to be amazing in that.”

“I haven’t even auditioned yet.”

She started to draw her hand away but he tightened his grip, pulling her between his legs and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“So, audition for it, sweetheart,” he said gently. “Get the part and stay here with me. Don’t go.”

She lifted her head, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “What?”

“Stay here with me, sweetheart. Please don’t go.”

Her whole body stiffened and recoiled and he loosened his arms as she took a step back, searching his face like she couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

“That’s what my mother said to me the day I boarded a bus to New York. ‘Stay here with me, Liebling. Don’t go.’ I can’t believe you just said that. I can’t believe you would…I can’t…” She blinked her eyes frantically, sucking in a huge gasp of air, and turning away from him. When she whipped back to face him, her cheeks were red. “You would stand in the way of my dreams? You would put yourself between me and everything I ever wanted? Everything I’ve worked for?”

“Elise—”

“What if the shoe was on the other foot? What if you hadn’t hurt your rotator cuff? What if you were willing and able to go to the Olympics and someone had stood in your way?”

He leaned back on the bed, his eyes narrowing. “Is the theoretical someone in this scenario you?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he said, his voice low and tight. “It matters if we’re talking about you, because you’re not just anyone, you’re my wife.”

“Okay, fine. Me. What if I stood in your way and asked you not to go?”

He felt—felt—his heart breaking. “Do you seriously not know the answer to that question?”

She stared back at him, her jaw tight, her eyes welling with tears.

“Elise, I would do anything for you. I would give up anything for you. I would be anything for you. Would I have given up the Olympics for you? Hell, yes. No question. Sweetheart, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give up for you if you asked me to.”

She took a deep, ragged breath, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

“Now. But, what about then?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let anything come between me and the woman I love.”

“You’re so sure.”

“It’s the truth.”

She shook her head as more tears trailed down her cheeks. “It’s easy to say because the choice was taken away from you.”

“Easy? You think it was easy for me to train for almost a decade and be sidelined at the last minute? It was a lot of things, but it wasn’t easy.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She shook her head with frustration. “I know it wrecked you at the time. That’s my point. It wrecked you to miss out on your dream then, just like it would wreck me now. Can’t you see that? Preston, what you sensed yesterday? The ‘distance’ you mentioned? It’s because we’re in two different places. Your dream, your Plan A, is dead. You already moved on to Plan B. But my dream, my Plan A, is still very much alive.”

“As far as I knew, your Plan A never included Hollywood. You were already living your Plan A by auditioning for leading Broadway roles.”

Elise took a deep breath and sighed, her face sad and frustrated.