Preston was breathing hard. “He hasn’t touched you anywhere? Because he sure as hell hugs you too tightly.”
I grinned and shook my head. “He has hugged me twice. That is all.”
“He’s got money. He’s got fame. He’s got that damn jet. Why don’t you want him?”
I rubbed my thumb over his heart. “Because I love you.”
The hard mask on his face fell away, and his eyes swam with emotion.
“How? Why?” he asked, reaching up to cover my hand with his. “I don’t deserve it.”
“I disagree. You’re special, Preston Drake. I think I’ve been in love with you since my sixteenth birthday and you came to my bonfire party on the beach with Marcus. You winked at me and called me beautiful. From that moment on I watched you. I was fascinated by you. Then as I got older, I wanted you. Once I got you, I realized I was in love with you.”
Preston slid his other hand around my waist and rested it against my lower back. “The night you walked out on me and you knew the truth, there were no more lies standing between us, and I realized this crazy, wild, intense feeling I had for you was love. I’d never had this before. Sure, I loved my brothers and sister, but nothing like this out-of-control emotion I couldn’t name. I had been scared to tell you I loved you because I couldn’t believe that what I was feeling was love if I wasn’t telling you the truth about me. I lied to you because I knew you’d leave me if you found out. I didn’t want to lose you.”
My breathing stopped. I’m more than positive my heart did too.
“You love me?”
He smiled and lowered his head until his lips hovered over mine. “I love you with a scary, insane, wild, amazing love. I always will. No one else could ever make me feel this way.”
I pressed my lips against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. Both his hands locked on my waist, and he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him while I kissed him with all the emotion pouring through me. His hands slipped under my dress and cupped my bottom so he could hold me up.
“Come on, guys. Really? This is my freaking wedding day. Can y’all save that crap until it’s over?” Marcus’s voice carried out over the wind, and we broke apart to see him grinning at us a few feet away.
“She’s hard to resist,” Preston called back out to him.
“Well, try. Please. Everyone is getting ready inside. We need the best man and maid of honor. If y’all could try not to make out during the wedding pictures, I’d appreciate it.”
Preston laughed and set me back down on the sand. “I take it you’re not going to bash my face in this time?”
Marcus shook his head. “No, but if the two of you had continued to look at each other and sulk like babies, I was going to bash your face in for being an idiot.”
“I take it you found the bride,” Preston said.
What did that mean? Had he lost her?
Marcus shrugged. “Yeah. She’d gone to eat fries.”
“Fries?” we both asked in unison.
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fries. It’s one of those Cage and Low things I’m still learning to deal with.”
Preston squeezed my butt and then patted it. “You go on ahead with your brother. I’ll follow behind. Tonight isn’t the time to deal with your mother’s reaction.”
I’d forgotten about her. Crap.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Preston
I wasn’t sure if the wedding was as beautiful as everyone said it was. All I’d been able to see was Amanda. I could attest to the fact that she was gorgeous. It was hard to see anyone else around her. She commanded my complete attention.
The wedding dinner, however, was another thing. Once again she was seated beside Jason, since he was her plus one, and I was across the table getting to witness it.
She’d smiled at me reassuringly throughout the meal. I knew she was trying to get me to stop staring Jason down, but it couldn’t be helped. I was pissed, and I wanted him to leave.
When the longest meal I’d ever sat through was over, Jason had stood up and congratulated Marcus and Low, then explained he had a plane waiting on him. Amanda said she’d walk him out. I didn’t want them alone. I trusted her, but I couldn’t say the same for Jason. Once they stepped out of the dining room, I started to stand up and follow them. Marcus’s hand gripped my arm tightly. “Don’t,” he whispered.