Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,173

you?”

I swallow. “One day.”

Her smile is heartwarming—lighting me up on the inside. “Come.” I’m uncomfortable with our conversation. “Let’s have some lunch—the others will be wondering where we are. We can discuss what we all want to do.”

During the impressive meal that Mrs. Bentley has laid out for us, we decide on an afternoon walk. But as we finish up, the room darkens. “Oh no!” Kate says suddenly. “Look.” Outside, the threatened rain has arrived.

“There goes our hike,” Elliot says, but he sounds relieved.

“We could go into town,” Mia says.

“Perfect weather for fishing,” I suggest.

“I’ll go fish,” Ethan says.

“Let’s split up.” Mia claps her hands. “Girls, shopping—boys, outdoor boring stuff.”

“Ana, what do you want to do?” I ask.

“I don’t mind,” she says. “But I’m more than happy to go shopping.” She smiles at Kate and Mia.

She hates shopping.

“I can stay here with you, if you’d like,” I offer, thinking again about how we could christen the bed.

“No, you go fish,” she says, but she gives me a scorching look, her eyes smoky, making me think she’d prefer to stay home.

With me. I feel ten feet tall.

“Sounds like a plan.” Kate rises from the table.

“Taylor will accompany you,” I announce. He’ll keep Ana safe.

“We don’t need babysitting,” Kate huffs, her irritation obvious.

Ana puts her hand on her arm. “Kate, Taylor should come.”

Listen to my wife. This is not up for discussion. That woman makes my hackles rise; I don’t know what my brother sees in her.

Elliot frowns. “I need to pick up a battery for my watch in town.”

Today? Can’t he do that at home?

“Take the Audi, Elliot. When you come back we can go fishing.”

“Yeah.” His voice wavers. “Good plan.”

What’s up with him?

Taylor maneuvers the minivan carrying Ana and Co. out of the driveway and sets off toward town. I hand Mrs. Bentley’s Audi keys to Elliot. He’s told me and Ethan to go ahead without him. “We’ll be on the Roaring Fork. Usual place, I think,” I say.

As he takes the keys, his expression is odd, like he’s about to face a firing squad. “Thanks, bro,” he mutters.

I frown. “You okay?”

He swallows. “I’m going to do it.”

“What?”

“A ring.”

“Ring?”

“I’m going to buy a ring. I think it’s time.”

Shit. “You’re going to ask Kate to marry you?”

He nods.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. She’s the one.”

I think my mouth drops open. Kavanagh?

“Hey, hotshot, marital bliss seems to be working for you.” He grins, recovering his usual devil-may-care demeanor in an instant. “You’re gonna catch flies with that mouth open, dude. Go catch some fish instead.” He laughs as I shut my mouth, and dumbfounded, I watch him climb into the A4 wagon.

Hot damn. He’s going to marry Kavanagh. That woman will be a thorn in my side forever. Maybe she’ll say no. But as I watch him reverse out of the driveway, something tells me she won’t. With a brisk wave, he’s gone. I shake my head. Elliot Grey, I hope to God you know what you’re doing.

Ethan is in the mudroom, checking out the line of fishing rods. “Float or fly?” I ask him.

“Let’s wade. We’ll be wet anyway, with this rain,” Ethan replies with a grin.

“The gear’s there.” I point to one of the cupboards. “I’m going to get changed. You can wear what you like from whatever’s in there.”

“Cool.” Ethan opens the cupboard and pulls out a pair of waders.

We load our backpacks and our fishing gear into my pickup and I reverse out of the garage and head down the mountain; even in the rain, the scenery is inspiring. Our first stop is the local angling store, where I purchase our fishing licenses. From there we drive to one of my favorite spots on the Roaring Fork River.

“You fished around here before?” I ask Ethan as we make our way to the bank.

“Here, no. But around the Yakima. My dad’s a big fan.”

“He is?” Now, there’s another reason to like Eamon Kavanagh.

“Yeah. Dad told me you’re working with him,” Ethan says.

“GEH is updating his fiber-optic network.”

“He’s pleased.”

I grin. “I enjoy working with him. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

Ethan nods. “He says the same about you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” From my backpack, I remove a box of flies. Inside is an impressive collection. “Carmella’s husband makes these. They’re great for trout.”

“Cool.” He selects one and examines it closely.

“Yeah.” I choose one. “The mayflies are hatching around now.”

“These should do it. Let’s hook some lips. I’ll give you some room,” he says, and we both move over the