When he spoke, he did it softly, “I’ll come home tonight before I go out with Dougal, take you out to an early dinner and we’ll talk.”
“I think I’ll be busy with Annie,” she replied, pulling her neck away and starting to move but he caught her hips.
She stopped, stiffened and looked at him, face again paler.
“You just said you’d watch the kids,” he reminded her.
“I forgot about Annie,” she lied.
“Elle –” he began.
She cut him off. “I’m here for Annie.”
“We need to talk.” His voice was firm.
That’s when he lost her. Her face went cold.
“No, Prentice, we don’t need to do anything. I need to get through two more days of this. Then I’m gone.”
His fingers flexed at her h*ps as his good humor slipped at her words. “You’re not.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, Prentice, I am.”
He got closer and his burgeoning anger strengthened. “Isabella, you’re not leaving my children behind like you left me behind.”
He watched her head jerk and she flinched.
Then she recovered.
“It’s for the best.”
Yes, he was getting angry.
“How do you figure that?” he returned.
“Trust me,” she shot back.
He said it even though he wasn’t certain he meant it.
Not anymore.
“Not likely.”
She pulled her h*ps from his hands and gazed up at him, her face remote. “You just proved my point,” she replied softly. “Like I said, it’s for the best.”
Before he could say more or figure out how in the f**k their situation degenerated so quickly, she turned on her bare foot and disappeared.
* * * * *
“This is the worst stag night in history with the best man standing out in the freaking cold drinking alone.”
Dougal’s words made Prentice’s body jolt as his mind was torn from Elle.
Prentice looked at his friend.