by Elle Wright
All morning, I warred with myself, ticking off the many stupid reasons I wanted to keep him at arm’s length while simultaneously reasoning with myself about why it would be appropriate to have three nights, three fucks. Then, I teetered between irritation at him for making me like this and arousal because he was too damn close. I was getting on my own damn nerves.
Things had been going well for me with the org. Susan had invited me to her home for tea and conversation a couple of days ago. It definitely helped that the older women were taken with Preston. At this point, I was a shoo-in for membership. Which should’ve been cause for celebration, or at least a stiff drink. What was I doing instead? Glaring at Susan’s daughter, Arlene, who’d shown up unannounced and had promptly homed in on my fake boyfriend.
Right now, all I wanted to do was push Arlene’s lyin’ ass in the pond. Not that I could talk, considering Preston wasn’t really my man, but at least I didn’t make a habit out of pretending. Arlene hadn’t even bothered to hide her interest in Preston, so she’d pretended to be golf illiterate. Never mind she knew all the golf terms and had her own set of clubs. Never mind her mother had already bragged about Arlene’s golf awards during our tea. Next, Arlene had pretended to sprain her ankle so Preston could help her to her golf cart. Then, her Treasure-troll-looking ass pretended to be interested in hiring him as a consultant for a construction project.
If Bliss were here, she’d be quick to point out my jealousy, but since she wasn’t, I happily blamed my mood swings on Arlene. Because…what the hell? When did two fucks and a couple of conversations make me a jealous bitch?
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Maya whispered as we packed up our stuff.
“I’m fine,” I grumbled.
Maya giggled. “You’re definitely not fine.”
I lifted up my bag. “Actually, I am.”
“Dallas.” She hugged me, “It’s okay to like him for real, ya know?”
“I don’t,” I said. “I mean, I do. We’re friends.”
“I got this.” Preston took my bag from me and slung it over his shoulder.
Where the hell did he come from? I wondered if he’d heard me. I glanced at Maya, catching her knowing smile. “I’m fine,” I repeated, stomping off.
When we returned to the clubhouse, the ladies suggested we have lunch.
“Aw, I wish I could,” I said.
“Sounds good,” Preston agreed.
Our simultaneous responses annoyed the hell out of me. I shot Preston a glare and mumbled, “But we have that thing.”
Preston went along with me. “Right. That thing.”
We exchanged small talk with the ladies while they waited for their table. Once they were ready to be seated, I hugged Maya and said my goodbyes to the other ladies. Well, everyone except for Arlene. I was too busy fighting not to kick her in the butt when she gave Preston a hug that lasted one second too long.
“Thanks for today,” I mumbled when they disappeared into the building. Shame rolled through me like waves. I’d never come close to reacting that way about any man. Not even Zeke.
Preston smirked. “Are you good?”
“What do you think?” I snapped.
He glanced at his phone and his smile faded. “Can you give me a second?”
Now, I just felt like an asshole. “Sure. I hope everything is okay.”
He excused himself and walked toward a bench on the other side of the walkway. I tried to eavesdrop on his conversation, but he was too far away for me to hear anything. So, I just stared at him. Preston was all hard lines and rippling muscles, haunted eyes and a genuine smile, quiet strength and dry humor. My brain screamed, Girl, don’t do it. Don’t fall. But my heart…that damn traitorous heffa. No matter how many times I told myself this wasn’t an actual thing, my heart seemed to rebel against me.
The weird part was he hadn’t changed. He’d been the same Preston I’d always known. Calm, steady, smart, thoughtful, fine. He was always a gentleman, shielding me from strangers and making sure I wasn’t cold. Those things…one might think they were small in the grand scheme of life. Yet, somehow, the simple gestures, the fleeting moments of understanding between us, had become promises. The promise to protect me, to care for me, to listen to me. The more time I spent with him like this, the more I wanted to be near him. Which could become a problem when this charade was over.
“Dallas?”
The butterflies fluttering in my stomach a second ago were replaced with cold, hard dread at the sound of the male voice calling my name. Kimball. I sighed, then turned to face him. “What the hell do you want?”
Kimball glanced over my shoulder, presumably at Preston. “Who is that? The man you were with.”
I scanned the area. The media attention had died down somewhat since the ruse had started, and I didn’t need more fodder for the reporters to latch on to. “Does it matter?”
“I’ve seen you with him,” he said. “The pictures. Who the fuck is that?”
“Shut the hell up,” I hissed. “Take your ass somewhere else. It’s your fault my name is being dragged for filth in these streets.”
Kimball shifted from one foot to another. “I’ve been calling you.”
“Right. I thought I made myself very clear in my last text. Just in case you need a reminder, here’s one. Fuck you, muthafucka. Find your wife and leave me the hell alone.”
“Everything okay over here, baby?” Preston’s hand slid over my back. “Are you alright?”
The flutters were back stronger than ever. Just his touch, his scent… Ooh wee. I took a steadying breath and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
“Dallas, we need to talk,” Kimball said, stepping toward me.
Preston stood between us. “Nah, that’s not how this is going down. I believe she told you to leave her alone. You might want to do that, because I’d hate the media to get a clip of me beating the shit out of you at this country club.”
Well, damn. Kick-ass Preston could get it. But the longer we stood here, the more likely we would be spotted. I squeezed his arm. “Can we go?” I whispered.
Nodding, Preston said, “Definitely.”
“I meant what I said,” I told Kimball. “We’re done.”
Kimball stalked off like a spoiled toddler, complete with a pout and folded arms.
Once he was out of sight, I sighed. “Thanks for the save.” When Preston didn’t respond, I turned to him to find him staring at the spot where Kimball had disappeared. “Preston? You okay?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and blew out a harsh breath. “I’m fine.” His expression softened. “Are you?”
I slipped my hand in his and pulled him toward his truck. “Kimball’s an asshole. That’s it. But I’m not worried about him. My concern is you. What happened?”
He dropped his head. “Got the paternity test.” I held my breath and waited for him to speak. Finally, he peered up at me. “Parker Wells Sr. is my father.”
“Oh.” I sighed heavily. I knew Preston and Brooklyn had agreed to do a DNA test, but I hadn’t expected the results to come back so quickly. “That was Brooklyn?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “She received the results and called me right away.”
“When did you take the test?”
“A couple of days ago when I got back from South Carolina. We went to a local lab when she returned to Michigan.”
“That worked out.” I searched his eyes, noted the sadness within them. “How are you feeling about it?”
“I don’t really know how to feel,” he admitted.
I held out my hand. “Understandable. So how about you don’t think about it tonight?”
He narrowed his eyes on me. “Not sure that’s possible.”
“Maybe not, but we can try.” I held out my hand. “Come with me?”
Without hesitation, he slipped his hand into mine and smiled. “Lead the way.”
Preston leaned over and murmured, “Do they always do this?”
I glanced at Trista
n and Duke, who were engaged in a full-blown argument about the rules of the game, Taboo—which we’d been trying to play for the past half hour. I shrugged. “Pretty much.”
Duke shoved Tristan. “Back up, man. Take your fun-killin’ ass somewhere else.”
Tristan bopped Duke in the head. Then, they were fighting.
Preston stood, but my hand on his wrist pulled his attention back to me.
“They’re fine,” I said. “Don’t get in the middle.” He looked at me, a question in his eyes. I waved a dismissive hand toward my brothers. “Seriously. Just let them go at it.”
After we’d left the golf course, Preston had followed me to my house so I could change. Then, we’d headed to my parents’ house for Tristan’s birthday dinner. Duke had flown in for the occasion and treated us to a smorgasbord of dishes that included perfectly grilled steak and salmon, pulled pork with his special barbecue sauce, coleslaw, seafood pasta salad, corn on the cob, strawberry shortcake, and other treats.
Now that all of my siblings were adults with our own careers and relationships, spending time together had become extremely important. We wanted to maintain a closeness despite what was going on in our lives. For a while, Tristan had been absent on purpose, often choosing to forego family events even if he was available. My big brother’s unwillingness to be involved in certain celebrations and his ability to make everything serious had always rubbed Duke the wrong way. So there’d been a constant battle between the two of them for years. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fight—with their words or with their fists.
Preston stared at my brothers, who were now rolling around on the grass. “Okay.”
I smirked at my fake boyfriend. Preston was a protector, the calm person in the room, and I knew it must’ve been hard for him to deal with the fight. The fact that he’d been ready to break it up made my heart swell in appreciation for the man he was. Not many would be willing to jump into a family disagreement.
My mother stepped onto the deck with chips and homemade guacamole. She shook her head. “Not again.” She looked at Dex. “Get them.”
“Alright now, that’s enough.” My father’s soft voice sounded like a boom in the backyard. Tristan and Duke immediately froze, fists in the air. All conversation ceased. We called it the Dad Effect. No matter what we were doing, when he spoke, we listened. He never had to yell, because his simple presence packed a punch.
Tristan stood. “Sorry, Pop.” He held out his hand and pulled Duke to his feet. “You know how it is.”
My dad set a tray of veggies and dip on the table. “Actually, I think it’s time for you two to do a deeper dive into what’s fueling this animosity.”
Duke shrugged. “I don’t need to think about it. I already know. Tristan’s full of shit.”
My mom held out her hand, and Duke smacked a twenty-dollar bill into her palm. My mother had made quite a bit of money on our propensity for well-placed curse words. Even though none of us lived with them anymore, the Cussing Jar was still active. “Thank you,” she chirped. “I’ll be able to pay for my spa date after tonight.”
“You should be able to pay for a vacation to Jamaica,” Blake grumbled.
“I’m just sayin’,” Duke said. “We all know it. Right, Demi?”
I glanced at my best friend, who’d averted her gaze from the melee.
She met Tristan’s gaze but didn’t say anything. “Don’t bring me into this,” she warned.
“Duke, sit your ass down,” I ordered, pulling out a bill and handing it to my waiting mother. “This is neither the time nor the place for this. We have company.” The past between Demi and Tristan often made family gatherings uncomfortable for them. I didn’t want it to ruin the rest of the night.
Duke snorted. “I don’t see any company. Lennox is family, and Preston isn’t new to us either. But since we’re talking about deeper dives, don’t you all think it’s time for Tristan to deal with his shit? It’s about—”
Dad shot Duke the look, and my brother shut the hell up, excusing himself and walking inside the house.
Tristan stalked off toward the private lake and, surprisingly, Demi followed him.
Dex sighed. “Shit,” he grumbled, setting his beer on the table. A moment later, he headed into the house.
Sighing, I turned to Preston. “Sorry. My family is…”
“Yours. And here.” He placed his hand on my knee. “Do you want to go in after him?”
I glanced at the door, then back at Preston. Nodding, I went into the house. Blake was right behind me.
My parents’ house sat on five acres of land and was located on the north side of Ann Arbor. They’d spared no expense to make it a place we could all come back to. Even though we lived separate lives, this house was always home. We found Duke in the basement, at the bar.
“Hey.” I slid onto a bar stool next to Dex. “I hate that you two can’t talk about this.”
Blake leaned against the counter. “It’s really tired, Duke.”
Duke frowned. “So does he. Man, I’m sick of this shit. He comes into town and acts like he doesn’t have to address anything. Mom and Dad go all out when he gets here, then he leaves without a word.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with you?” I asked. “He’s not hurting you. Just let Tristan do him. And you continue to do you.”
“You know better,” Blake added. “So do better.”
Dex drummed his fingers on the bar top. “Bottom line, Tristan has to work through his shit. We know that. But you don’t have to make it your problem.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Just love him and be there for him when he finally needs us.”
Duke dropped his head. “You’re right. I’m just trippin’. I’ll shut my ass up.”
“Good.” Blake looked at me. “So, Dallas…you and Preston hanging out when there’s no Color of Law event?”
I shot her a sidelong glance. “It’s complicated,” I said with a shrug. “But, yes. We’re friends.”
“Not sorta friends?” Duke asked.
Preston and I had surpassed that sometime between the hot counter sex and that softball game. “No, we’re friends.”
Dex smirked. “That it?”
At this point, I was unwilling to admit anything more—to them or myself. “That’s it,” I repeated. “He’s going through something, and I wanted to be there for him.”
Blake sipped on the glass of cognac Duke had just poured her. “Is he okay?”
I didn’t particularly want to discuss Preston’s issues with my siblings, but I knew they’d keep my confidence, so I told some of what I knew about the paternity issue. “Brooklyn called him today with the results.”
Blake’s mouth hung open. “Whoa! That’s a lot.” Her brows furrowed. “But it makes sense. I knew he was too fine to be true. Those Wells brothers… Just hot for no good reason. Preston fits in perfectly.”
I cracked up. “You’re a nut.”
“Seriously, though, they’ll welcome him in.”
I hoped she was right. It was totally different to meet a friend of a friend than meeting a long-lost sibling. The Wells family had already been there, done that when they’d discovered Veronica was their sister from another of their father’s affairs. “Let’s hope for the best.” I stood. “I’d better get out there before Mom and Dad ask him too many questions.”
I left my siblings in the basement and made my way back outside. When I stepped onto the deck, Preston was playing chess with my father. I leaned against the door and watched him. He was comfortable, engaged. And I was…smitten?
I inched toward them, placing my hand on Preston’s shoulder. “All good out here?” I asked.
Preston peered up at me and nodded, before turning his attention back to the board.
Dad grinned. “I think Preston is miles better at this game than his softball game.”
Laughing, I said, “That’s a good thing, right?”
“I can see I’ll never live this down,” Preston said.
“I might need to practice so I can redeem myself.”
My father shook his head. “Son, sometimes it’s better to let it go.”
Later, Preston walked me to my door. “Thanks for coming over,” I told him.
“Thanks for helping me forget.”
“Did you really forget?”
He hunched a shoulder. “For a minute.”
I smiled. “Well, every minute counts.”
We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. After everything we’d shared recently, I hadn’t expected the awkwardness. At the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
Preston did the talking for me, though, when he said, “This isn’t how I imagined this night ending.”
I swallowed. “How did you imagine it?”
He tugged me to him and kissed me. “With you riding my dick,” he murmured against my lips.
“In that case,” I breathed. “I’d better get naked then, huh?”
His mouth met mine again and we stumbled into my house. Preston kicked my door closed while I struggled to remove my clothes, then his. He picked me up and carried me over to the couch and fell back against the cushions. “Feel free to take your time,” he instructed. “I can do this all night.”
I smirked. “That’s good to know.”
We made fast love, coming in a matter of minutes, our mouths sealed to each other. And all I could think of was…I want more.
Chapter Twelve
Let it Burn
Preston
With everything I’d gone through, I tended to be the glass-half-empty type with a shot of optimism reserved only for business. Because I excelled at my job. I loved the science of building design, from planning to development to implementation. I enjoyed preparing drawings and blueprints, compiling feasibility reports, creating project proposals, and estimating costs. Work had been the one part of my life I could control, so I gave it my all. Lately, though, the focus on my career had started to wane. And it was all because of Dallas.