Spend My Life with You. Donna Hill

her seat belt.

      Preston got in behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “I think it’s nice.”

      She glanced at him, and the warm, sincere smile of understanding unraveled the knot that had tightened in her stomach.

      He put the car in gear and drove out of the winding driveway. “I get the impression that you’re really important to them—at least from what I’ve seen.”

      “Really?”

      “Not to mention how highly your father speaks of you as often as he can.” His flashed an amused smile.

      “Hmm, I don’t know. I think it’s more of a comfort than anything else.”

      “A comfort? Why do you say that?”

      She was thoughtful for a moment before she began to speak about those days that were still painful to remember. “When my mother got sick, it seemed natural to me to take care of her, being the oldest daughter.” Her voice drifted as the memories of those difficult days pushed to the forefront. “My father, as strong as he is in front of the country, couldn’t handle the thought of losing his wife. His visits to her sickbed often did them both more damage than good. Telling him he had to be strong for her usually resulted in a firestorm of outrage—how could he be expected to be strong when the most important person in his life was being taken from him? Dom and Desi spent most of their time crying or moaning about how unfair it was. Rafe was like a ghost in those days. He was her favorite. They were so close,” she said softly. “And Justin, to be the youngest, he was a real trooper. I don’t know what I would have done without him.” She sighed. “I guess I took over where my mother left off—taking care of the house, the staff and the family.” She glanced at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on and on.”

      “Please.” He stretched his hand across the gears and covered hers. “It’s fine.”

      “I made them sound so awful and selfish. They really aren’t.”

      Preston chuckled. “You did make the whole crew sound like a bunch of brats,” he teased. “Except for Justin.”

      Lee Ann ducked her head for a moment and bit back a grin. “They’re really quite sweet.”

      “I’m sure.” He paused a moment before making the turn toward the park entrance. “I, uh, got the impression that they—your father and brother—didn’t know about us and tonight.”

      Her face heated. “No, they didn’t.”

      He bobbed his head. “Any reason?”

      “I’m not really sure what the reason was,” she said a bit more harshly than she’d intended. “I just didn’t tell them.” She tightened her grip around her purse.

      Preston’s brow arched for a moment, and he knew to back off. Whatever her reason was, it was her own. But he didn’t have the time or the inclination to tiptoe around anyone. He’d never done it in his life and had no intention of starting now.

      He drove the car as far as he could and then found a parking space. “We’ll have to walk from here. It’s not far,” he said. “Right up the ridge and down on the other side.”

      Lee Ann nodded. Preston came around and helped her out of the car. Gone was the easy, excited feeling, replaced with the rubber bands of tension that had popped between them during their first meeting at the reception.

      Preston took a blanket from the trunk and tucked it under his arm. “This way,” he muttered and jutted his chin. Lee Ann fell in step beside him.

      He was annoyed, he realized as they walked in side-by-side silence. Annoyed at the one thing he promised he would not allow himself to be ever again—how someone else’s agenda affected him. But he held his tongue. One night. The last night. Move on.

      They reached the top of the ridge, and from that vantage point, the multicolored quilt of the crowd splashed out before them. One of the bands was already on stage and launched into their first number.

      Preston instinctively took Lee Ann’s hand as they maneuvered their way across the uneven landscape and around bodies in search of a piece of space, and against his own steely determination, the sensation of her fingers wrapped around his hand seemed to soothe the ache that always resided inside him.

      “Looks like a spot over there,” Lee Ann said, in a voice that carried a soft echo of sadness that gave Preston pause.

      He gave her hand a little squeeze. Her eyes slid up to his face then pulled away.

      “Let’s grab it before someone else does.”

      They walked faster and just beat out another couple thanks to Preston’s quick work of staking their claim with the almost theatrical unfurling of the blanket, which reminded Lee Ann of a matador teasing the oncoming bull. She told him as much once they’d sat down.

      “A matador?” Preston laughed a deep, tumbling laugh that broke the tenuous band of tension between them. He looked at her soft, smiling face and settled down beside her. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but I think matador is a first. I kind of like it though.”

      He grinned, flashing that sexy smile that lit his eyes and stole her breath away.

      Preston reached out and tenderly touched the wisps of dark hair that feathered her brow. He moved a bit closer. Lee Ann’s heart began to race.

      The crowd burst into thunderous applause as the band finished their number.

      Lee Ann blinked as if awakened from a light sleep. Preston gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

      “I…uh, didn’t think to bring snacks,” Lee Ann blurted out in that odd moment of awkwardness.

      Preston slapped his brow with the heel of his palm. “Oh man, I left them in the car.” He sprang to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Hold my spot,” he added with a wink. He jogged back the way they had come and was soon swallowed by the throng.

      Lee Ann sat with her legs tucked beneath her and took a look around, while she ran through her head that push and pull that kept happening between her and Preston. Granted, she was no expert on dating or the prelude to it, but she had good plain sense and always relied on her instincts. But for reasons that she couldn’t put her finger on, Preston, at the slightest instance, would retreat to a space and cut her out, almost in retribution. Maybe it was the bump in the road of getting to know each other. Maybe she was making more out of it than necessary. Maybe it was just her imagination. Whatever it was, she wasn’t sure she knew how to deal with it or if she wanted to.