Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)(16)

“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. What do you think?”

She stared down at his face, her eyes soft and gentle. “I don’t think it’s that easy.”

“How do you mean?”

“Life throws curveballs. It’s inconvenient and unpredictable…and loving with your whole heart might not be enough. Plus…” she paused, dropping his eyes, “it’s risky.”

“There’s no other way to love.” Preston flipped over onto his stomach, nudging her leg as he looked up at her. “Hey. Did someone hurt you? Were you—”

“Me?” asked Elise, shaking her head. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Quite.” She nodded. “I’ve never been in love.”

This surprised him. No. Shocked him. She was so lovely, so innocent and honest, he couldn’t imagine why some guy hadn’t claimed her yet. But then he thought about her insistence on saying goodbye last night, the fear he had—at almost every moment with her—that she’d suddenly bolt and he’d never see her again. Perhaps she kept everyone at arm’s length…which made this afternoon together all the more precious to him, because she was allowing him to get close to her.

“Then what? Why risky?”

“In every play or book I’ve ever read, the person who loves the most deeply ends up the most hurt.”

“I don’t think it’s always like that.”

“They wouldn’t write about it if it wasn’t like that a good portion of the time.”

“So it scares you?” he asked, searching her face. “Love scares you. Being in love.”

She nodded once, an almost imperceptible movement. “Very much.”

He held her eyes so long that she blinked, looking away from him, and he panicked that she might jump up and run home, too discomfited by his attention to stay with him any longer.

“Okay,” he said softly, knowing that he was about to lie to her, but having no better recourse. “Then I won’t ever fall in love with you, so you’ll never have to fear me.”

She stared at him, unspeaking, and then suddenly her lips slid into that sweet grin that Preston liked so well. She giggled softly, her face brightening as she shook her head back and forth. “How do you keep doing that?”

“What?” he asked, thinking whatever it was, he’d keep doing it forever if it made her this happy.

“Saying the perfect thing. To make me say yes…or make me feel better…or make me feel…” She shook her head, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, then cupping his cheek with her palm.