Proposing to Preston: The Winslow Brothers #2 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 8) by Katy Regnery Page A

have a very soft blanket and a bottle of wine and lots of food to keep you nourished. And I found this battered, old, first edition copy of Ethan Frome at Baumann Rare Books on Madison Ave, which is definitely not usually open on Sunday mornings, and I thought, or rather hoped, that you’d read it to me this afternoon and keep it for your trouble.” He paused, his eyes searching her face desperately, before whispering passionately, “ Please don’t say no .”
    “I don’t drink,” she said, her heart racing with excitement as she tried hard to reign in her runaway smile.
    “I came prepared for that possibility,” he said, reaching into the basket and pulling out a green glass bottle of sparkling water.
    Her defenses fell and she beamed at him, taking the red fabric-covered first edition of Ethan Frome from his fingers with care. “How did you get a first edition book from a store that’s closed on Sundays?”
    “I tracked down the store owner at home and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
    “How industrious, Don Corleone. Did you break the law?”
    Preston look affronted. “I’m a lawyer!”
    “Ha!” she scoffed. “So was Tom Hagan. Lots of lawyers are crooks.”
    “Not this one,” he said, grinning at her. “No Tom Hagan here. No laws broken. That book was purchased, paid for, and is all yours…on the condition that you’ll read it to me.”
    “I can’t possibly…,” she started, teasing him with a long pause, “…say no.”
    “Phew!” He exhaled dramatically, letting his shoulders relax. “I had no more tricks up my sleeve. It was this or…”
    “Or what?” she asked as he hailed them a cab.
    He glanced back at her. “Or spend my Sunday getting nothing done while I daydreamed about you.”
    “What about your studies?” she asked, clasping the book to her chest like a treasure.
    “They’ll keep until tonight.”
    “You’ll be up late,” she worried.
    “It’ll be worth it,” he said softly, putting his hand on the small of her back as he helped her into the back of the cab.
    ***
    Two hours later, Preston lay with his head on the blanket beside her lap, the cover of Ethan Frome shielding his eyes from the late-day sun as Elise started reading chapter six aloud.
    Her reading voice was warm and low, and she did a wonderful job bringing the characters to life. Preston had never read the novella before, and now he was rapt with attention, imagining himself Ethan, who longed so terribly for his sick wife’s young cousin, Mattie, while trapped in a loveless marriage.
    “ Ethan did not know why he was so irrationally happy, for nothing was changed in his life or hers. He had not even touched the tip of her fingers or looked her full in the eyes. But their evening together had given him a vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad now that he had done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the picture ,” read Elise, her musical voice softer and softer until it trailed off into silence.
    A moment went by, then another and another until Preston rolled his head to the side, squinting to look up at her face, which was staring at the book, but not reading.
    “Elise?”
    “It’s so sad, isn’t it? For him to want her so terribly?”
    “It’s only sad if he can’t have her,” said Preston.
    “Of course he can’t,” she said, laying the book on her lap with a sigh. “He’s married to someone else. It’s…impossible.”
    “I’m quite certain they had divorce in 1911.”
    “They lived in a tiny New England village. It just wasn’t done.”
    “Then he didn’t love her enough. Mattie, I mean.”
    Elise gasped. “How can you say that? You know he loves her.”
    “Well, I haven’t read the rest of the book, but if I was Ethan and I loved Mattie like he says he does, I wouldn’t let her go. I’d fight for her. I’d…well, I’d figure it out.”
    “Just like that,” said Elise, her lips wobbling as she looked down at him.
    “Hell, yes, just like that.