Just Like Heaven

by Lacey Baker

And with that she was gone. Preston couldn’t help it, he turned, watching her walk into the house, ass twitching in the tight capri jeans she wore. His mouth watered and he almost cursed Diana McCann for the millionth time since he’d had the fortune of meeting her. Not that he had any intention of making love to Heaven outside in broad daylight when they should have been preparing for a bridal shower. But he could have easily convinced her to join him upstairs for an hour or two.

  “She’s fine as hell,” Parker said from behind him. “But the police in Boston think she was set up by someone at Larengetics.”

  “What?” Preston asked, turning quickly to face his brother.

  “I spoke to a Detective Johansen. He says all the evidence pointed to Heaven orchestrating the explosion. But why would she have stayed in the lab if she knew it was going to blow up? They’ve been digging deeper and found out a lot was riding on Heaven creating this medication, a lot of Larengetics money and a lot of animosity growing from their competitors.”

  “So one of the competitors could be gunning for her?” he asked.

  Parker shook his head. “If they planned the explosion, that would make sense. But there’s no reason for them to be after her now.”

  “But there’s plenty of reason for Larengetics to be pissed off with her,” he finished.

  “Ryan tried your cell but didn’t get an answer. He called the main number and since you were otherwise occupied I took the call. He has all of Larengetics’s financial information and he’s going to fax that along with profiles of each board member over later today. In the meantime—”

  Preston nodded. “I know, I’ll keep her close.”

  * * *

  The Smythe wedding and reception went off without a hitch the next day. Preston and his brothers had donned black suits and silver bow ties and served champagne on silver trays as the guests mingled throughout the inn and outside.

  The forecast had called for late showers and possibly thunderstorms in the evening, so an emergency tent rental had been necessary. This consisted of Preston and Quinn taking the hour-and-a-half ride to Easton to the party store, whose owner charged them an additional three hundred dollars to open on a holiday and pack the tent into the back of Michelle’s mini van. Another hour, tacked onto the three-hour travel time, was consumed with him and Quinn fussing over the instructions and finally getting the tent up. Parker, the lucky bastard with his leg injury, had been responsible for coordinating the flower and cake deliveries, which meant he’d spent the entire morning flirting with Drew Sidney and whatever female had been assigned to deliver the cake.

  The final dance at the reception had been punctuated by the fireworks that could be seen clearly from the backyard, since the boat that they were based on was docked in the middle of the river right behind their land.

  “Here, you deserve this,” Preston said to Heaven, who had come from the kitchen where she’d been helping Michelle fix plates and wash dishes.

  She startled, jumping as he came up behind her offering her the glass of champagne.

  “You don’t have to be afraid here, Heaven. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he told her, hating every time she jumped or looked over her shoulder.

  “I just thought I was alone,” she replied, taking the glass from him and giving him a small smile.

  She also wore black, skintight pants and a ruffled blouse that matched the one Raine and Savannah wore—he figured that was most likely a result of their recent shopping spree. Michelle wore an apron over her black pants and white top so he hadn’t noticed any ruffles, but she probably had the same top as well. Her shoes were flat with some sort of silver buckle at the toe, and when she looked up at him Preston thought of a high school girl. A very lovely high school girl he would have tried his damndest to date if she’d gone to his school.

  “I’m here with you now,” he said. “So we’ll toast to our country’s independence and see what they’ve prepared for us tonight.” With a nod toward the sky and a tap of his glass to hers, he looked forward to the first burst of fireworks.

  She touched her glass to his. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her take a tentative sip.

  “I’ve never watched a fireworks display before,” she said softly after the first two or three minutes of the show.

  “Don’t they celebrate the Fourth in Boston?”

  “Yes. But I never attended any of those celebrations. Usually I worked late in the lab to ignore the fact that I had nobody to celebrate with.”

  “What about your family?”

  “I’m an only child whose parents are more concerned with their social status than with me.” She took a deep breath, then emptied her glass. “I sound like a whining child, instead of a thirty-two-year-old adult.”

  “Nonsense, you sound like a woman whose endured some disappointments. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all either been let down or let someone down in our lives. It’s the natural course of things.”

  He looked away from the lights then because she moved to stand in front of him.

  “Who disappointed you, Preston? What happened that made you turn into such a cynic?” she asked.

  Suddenly uncomfortable with the shift of the conversation, Preston emptied his glass, too.

  “I’m not a cynic. I just know what works for me and what doesn’t.”

  “And what happened to make you feel that way?”

  “Nothing.”

  She nodded as if she agreed or understood, but her eyes definitely said differently. “You were just born with all the answers, huh?”

  “No,” he said, then snapped his mouth shut. He had the feeling that this was another one of those times when whatever he said would come out wrong. She’d never understand how he came to be the man he was, so what was the point in telling her?

  Preston shrugged. “I’m just who I am, Heaven. Can you accept that?”

  She took a step closer to him. “That depends,” she said.

  “On what?”

  “On how fast you can take me upstairs and convince me that I should accept who you are, without any more questions.”

  He thought about that a moment, twirling the stem of the champagne glass between his fingers. Then he took her glass from her hand and stuck both glasses in his jacket pocket. She yelped when he scooped her up into his arms.

  “About two minutes should do it,” he said, and turned toward the house.

  * * *

  Preston was naked and it was a glorious sight.

  With fingers that shook only slightly, Heaven touched the back of his shoulders. His muscles bunched and she rubbed slowly, kneading against the tightness. He sighed as if she were giving him the best massage ever. She was kneeling on the bed behind him, her clothes having been just about ripped off two seconds after they entered the room.

  “You need to relax,” she said to him in a soft voice. “You’re worrying too much.”

  “That might be easier said than done,” was his light reply.

  “No.” Heaven continued letting her palms splay down the length of his back. “Stress is a silent killer. To combat it you should come up with ways to purge yourself daily from the burdens that weigh you down.”

  She leaned in a little bit, kissing his side before kneading there.

  He sucked in a breath. “You sound like an expert on stress relief.”

  Heaven laughed softly. “I read a lot. And I spent a small fortune on a therapist this year. I’ve learned a few things.”

  “Really? I’d be interested in finding out just how much you know,” Preston said.

  He’d reached back for her. Heaven rubbed her cheek along his arm, kissed the inside of his wrist, then slipped off the bed. When she was standing in front of him, she once again put her hands on his shoulders.

  “One way to relieve stress is to find a hobby. Do you have a hobby, Preston?”

  He’d already reached out, had his hands on her hips as he pulled her close, between his legs.

  “
I think I do now,” was his reply.

  His thumbs circled across her hip bone, his fingers splaying over the top swell of her bottom. Heat spiraled through her in enticing tendrils.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze meeting her eyes, then sliding over her body in a slow, appreciative perusal.

  She let her fingers roam down his arms, over taut muscle and roped veins. His skin was smoothed tight almost to the point of straining, and she couldn’t help touching it. There was so much strength in his arms, so much man as she looked into his eyes. He was beautiful with his strong jaw and thick eyebrows. His dark eyes made him seem more intense than he really was, and the thin mustache he kept neat and close-cut gave him a kind of movie-star quality.

  “I could touch you all day, every day,” he told her, reaching behind her so that his hands cupped her bottom completely.

  “I don’t think either of us would worry much if you did that,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

  With each grip of his hands her heart skipped a beat, her knees trembled. And when one hand slipped slowly between her legs, pressing persistently on the place that was quickly growing damp with arousal, her eyes closed involuntarily.

  “No, we wouldn’t worry,” he told her when his fingers parted her plump folds.

  His hands were moving from the back, so her front was pushed even closer to him. So close that when he shifted his head slightly, his breath brushed over her clean-shaven mound as he spoke. A tingle of pleasure delved straight down her spine.

  “We’d be too busy to worry about anything,” he whispered. Her center throbbed.

  “Right,” she sighed. “Nothing.”

  He dropped a kiss on her mound and Heaven gasped, one knee buckling completely. As if to help her out—but really it just made matters worse—Preston lifted that leg, planting her foot on the mattress beside his thigh. His fingers returned to slip seductively between her tender folds once more. And then his tongue followed.

  She grasped his shoulders so hard, her thankfully blunt-tipped nails slipped slowly into his skin. He lifted her closer to his face as if she were a chocolate sundae and he was in search of the cherry on top. With slow and purposeful strokes his tongue talked to her in an entirely different language, one she’d never before experienced but felt like she’d missed anyway. Something akin to pleasure but way more intense rippled through her and she shifted. So did Preston. He lifted the leg that had been propped on the bed so that it now draped over his shoulder, and he kissed her again, deeper, wetter, more intimate than he ever had. She moaned.

  Moaned really loud and really long.

  When she thought she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor, Preston lifted her once more, this time turning her so that she was lying flat on the bed. Again he propped her legs up onto his shoulders and thrust into her with a quick urgency that had her gasping.

  Then he stilled.

  Preston didn’t move and he didn’t blink, just stared down at her as if this were the first time he’d ever seen her. Heaven blinked, licked her lips, and looked into his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever seen her, but it was definitely his first time for something.

  “Preston,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

  She cupped his cheeks to keep him still.

  “This thing between us,” she began, and he closed his eyes.

  “No, look at me, Preston.” Heaven waited until his eyes were once again open.

  “It’s good, right. I know,” he said through gritted teeth and began stroking inside her long and deep and oh so slow she almost screamed in agony.

  Instead Heaven tried to speak again; she tried to tell him what had been nagging at her all day. But as Preston picked up the pace, their bodies making a slapping sound at each contact, she couldn’t think. Words wouldn’t form, only moans and gasps and occasionally his name as if to signify that he was the one making her feel this way, he was the one bringing her this insatiable pleasure.

  “It’s never been this good,” she thought she heard him whisper.

  But when she tried to get her eyes to focus on him once more, he’d turned his face away. His hands were planted on the bed, one on either side of her face, and her legs were still thrown over his shoulders. He pulled out and stroked a particularly sensitive spot that made her entire body quiver. In that moment everything shifted, every movement, every thought she’d ever had about man and women, this man and herself, everything changed.

  And when he’d stiffened above her, and they shared in a blissful release, Heaven felt like crying. She didn’t exactly know why, but tears welled in her eyes. To keep from looking like a total idiot in front of Preston, she quickly pushed him off her and ran to the bathroom.

  Chapter 21

  Preston cursed, long, low, fluent.

  He’d messed up. No, he thought dismally shaking his head, he’d fucked up, royally!

  Despite what people thought they knew about him, Preston was no fool when it came to emotions. They weren’t his favorite things to deal with, but he had them and he knew when it was time to face them. The moment he’d slipped inside Heaven had signified the exact second that bolted door to his heart burst open. For weeks she’d been easing her way inside, whether it was with the dogs or helping his sisters, or looking at him with that stubborn-if-a-little-naive glare. She was smart enough to obtain a master’s degree and work as a biochemist in one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the country, and yet she was just timid enough to let her parents intimidate her into a job and a life she didn’t really want. She had enough class not to stoop to Diana McCann’s baiting and enough gumption not to let herself be walked on by the impertinent wannabe socialite.

  She was nothing he ever expected to fall for.

  And everything he’d ever wanted in a female, on the rare occasion he’d allowed himself to want.

  And at this very moment she was in the bathroom crying because he was a jackass. He could take this moment to get dressed and leave, to go into his own bedroom and fall into a deep sleep in the hope that tomorrow this would have all been a bad dream. With his luck he’d wake up with a huge J tattooed to his forehead, letting everyone know just how big a jackass he really was.

  No, he wasn’t going to leave. He hadn’t left her in the four nights since her nightmare, choosing to hold her while she slept just in case she awoke screaming again. She hadn’t, and Preston had allowed himself to feel that was partly due to his presence.

  So he would stay with her again tonight, there was no question about that. Unless she threw him out.

  Hoping that would not happen, Preston got up from the bed and picked up the clothes they’d discarded when they’d come in. He was at the bathroom door waiting when she came out.

  “I’m sorry,” he said the moment she looked up at him. “I’d let you kick my butt but I’m so tired I don’t think either one of us would last longer than another five minutes.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, and Preston felt that clinching in his chest that had developed the moment she slammed the bathroom door—even though he’d tried to dismiss it—dissipate.

  “I’m tired, too. Whose idea was it to do this instead of taking a shower and heading right to bed?” she asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

  “Never mind that,” he said, taking a step toward her and pushing her back into the bathroom. “He doesn’t have a lot of common sense these days.”

  “Oh, really? I think he has lots of common sense, just not enough courage.”

  Her words stopped Preston, and he stared down into her face. She was right. He was a coward because he wouldn’t ask her what she meant by that statement. He wouldn’t give her the opportunity to tell him that she’d fallen in love with him, or to insinuate that he might be in love with her. He was a big jackass coward, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit those were his shortcomings.

  “We’ll shower and then we’ll go to bed and maybe common sense will return in the morning.”


  He moved around her and switched on the water. Stepping inside, he reached out a hand to her. “Join me?” he asked.

  She’d turned to look at him, one hand on a gloriously naked hip.

  “Maybe courage will also,” she said as she stepped inside.

  Preston didn’t reply, but he wasn’t betting on it.

  * * *

  “Family meeting in the dining room. Quinn and Nikki picked up steamed crabs from Walt as a thank-you present to Preston for helping his sister with her legal problems. Michelle’s timing everyone and you’ve got exactly ten minutes,” Savannah said to Heaven as she came down the stairs, Coco tucked in the crock of her arm.

  “I’m not family,” Heaven replied instantly.

  Savannah stopped, sending her a look over her shoulder—a look Heaven now knew was translated to You’ve got to be kidding me.

  “You’re kidding, right?” she asked. Heaven almost smiled at how on point she’d been.

  “No. I’m not related to the Cantrells, although I’ve been working with all of you for the past few weeks like I am. I’ve really enjoyed my stay here at the inn, but I was thinking it might be time for me to move on.”

  That had Savannah turning around completely. She eyed Heaven suspiciously. “So you’re going back to Boston?”

  Heaven looked down at Coco to pet her head. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Oh? So you’re going to stay in Sweetland but you don’t want to stay here?”

  She looked over at Savannah, who now stood right in front of her.

  “I like Sweetland. I feel like I was brought here for a reason. So yes, I want to stay here, and I want to find my own place, to figure out how I can make my own life here. Can you understand that?” she asked, not sure what she was hoping Savannah would say.

  “I understand you’re just as confused as the rest of my family so you might as well come on into the dining room and have some crabs with us.”

  Without another word Savannah came around to hook her arm in Heaven’s, talking as they walked. “We can ask, who sells real estate around here. If you’re gonna stay we might as well find you a great place. One with a guest bedroom for when Michelle plucks my nerves and I need to run away.”