Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

Feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. “You’re right. I shouldn’t keep it anymore.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. I know being open isn’t the easiest thing for you.”

Fucking hell. He forced himself to smile at her. “Feel like going for a swim?” She nodded and rose from the chair, and hand in hand they walked into the ocean.

The same ocean Sophia had drowned in eight years ago, because of him. And while the guilt over what had happened was still there, he didn’t believe he was incapable of love, that he was broken anymore. But he had been then. And if Willa found out a woman was dead because of him, she wouldn’t look at him the way anymore. It would change things if she knew the truth.

He’d done what he needed to do to make sure that wouldn’t happen.

18

Willa slipped out of her silky bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor in her bedroom and then stepped into the gown Max had bought for her for the gala. Putting on the dress—the $11,000 Oscar de la Renta he’d insisted she get, even though she’d felt a little sick at how expensive it was—was the final step in getting ready for the evening. Her hair was too short to put up, but she’d had it styled at a salon so it now fell around her jaw in glossy ringlets. Brandon had set her up with one of the makeup artists at Saks, who’d given her a fresh, dewy look.

She pulled the heavy dress with its layers of tulle up over her hips and then slipped her arms through the bodice. The sleeveless dress was navy blue and embellished with gold iridescent beading that looked vaguely like feathers. The top of the dress came up to her neck, but the fabric was sheer from the neck to the bust, making the beading shimmer even more. The skirts swished elegantly as she walked to her bedroom door and pulled it open.

“Dor?” she called. “Could you please help me with this button?” The back of the dress closed with a keyhole button, leaving a large portion of her back exposed.

Dori immediately came running from the kitchen, stopping in her tracks when she saw Willa. “Holy shit. You look like a princess. Or a movie star.”

Willa grinned, flushing at her friend’s compliment. “I feel like one.”

“This dress is gorgeous. The color is perfect on you and the beading is so pretty.”

Willa smoothed her hands over the skirt, turning so Dori could do up the button. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed, feeling a bit like a little girl playing dress up with her mother’s clothes. Playing in a world she didn’t really belong in.

Once Dori had finished with the button, Willa slipped on the necklace Max had given her last weekend and added a pair of simple diamond studs that had been her grandmother’s. She didn’t think she needed anything else given the intricate beading on the dress.

Just then, her phone buzzed and she saw the text message from Max, telling her he was downstairs. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she replied that she’d be right down.

“You look amazing,” said Dori from behind her. “I want all the details tomorrow. Who was there, what were they wearing, what was the food like, what kind of music did they play? All the details.”

“You got it,” said Willa, slipping her phone into her grayish blue Kate Spade clutch that she’d had for years. She stepped into the strappy gold sandals she’d bought to go with the dress, gave herself one last look in the mirror and then planted a kiss on Dori’s cheek before heading for the elevator.

When she stepped into the lobby, her breath caught in her chest, her heart fluttering wildly at the sight of Max in a simple black tuxedo, his hair styled to give a hint of the curls she loved so much. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ, all commanding masculine grace. And he was hers.

“Oh, wow,” he said quietly, taking a step towards her. “Willa, God. You look incredible.”

She fisted her hands in her skirt and gave it a swish. “Well, someone incredibly generous splurged on this dress, so…” Warmth spread through her, thick and sweet like honey at the way he was looking at her, rapt. Enthralled.

Like a man very much in love.

Once they were settled in the limo, their fingers interlaced, he turned to her.

“Can I kiss you? I don’t want to mess up your make up if—”

He was still talking when she leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his. He moaned softly and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her, his tongue moving against hers. She lost track of time as they kissed slowly, losing herself to the simple joy of his mouth on hers. All too soon, he pulled away, tracing his thumb over her cheekbone.

She grinned at him and smoothed her fingers over his lips, wiping away the lipstick he’d kissed off. Once she’d reapplied, she leaned into him, her nervous anticipation settling into something gentler.

I want to marry this man.

The thought charged through her, making her heart slam against her ribs. But now that it had surfaced, she knew that it was true. Which was crazy because they’d only been dating for…what? Five weeks? Way too soon to be thinking about marriage.

And yet, here she was. Knowing she wanted to marry Max. Someday.

Tomorrow.

Oh, God. That was true, too, she realized. If he asked her right now, she’d say yes.

The limo joined the queue of others waiting to drop off passengers and for the next several minutes, they inched closer to the red carpet in front of the Museum of Modern Art, its glass façade gleaming in the night. Finally, it was their turn to exit the limo. Max stepped out first and then offered her his hand, helping her out. A cacophony of shouts greeted