Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)

“Tell me a little about it.”


“Hmm.” She sipped her seltzer, picturing her mother, father, sisters, brothers-in-law, and two nephews last Christmas. “Well, they live a simple life, and the church is the heart of the community. My family is modest, but not plain. The Amish are plain. My family is Conservative Mennonite. That means they don’t wear the traditional Mennonite clothing. They dress in normal clothes, though my mother always insisted we took care not to be too flashy or revealing. Um, they don’t drink alcohol. They do use modern technology in moderation. They’re pacifists, of course. And…” Suddenly her cheeks felt terribly hot as she realized what she was about to say: …they don’t practice pre-marital sex.

She caught herself just in time.

Sex hadn’t come up in conversation yet; she’d never invited him up to her apartment after a date, no matter how steamy their goodnight kisses, and though he’d invited her over several times, she’d always demurred, saying she had to be up early to study her lines or get to an early rehearsal. It’s not that she didn’t want more of him—she did. She longed to feel her skin pressed against his, his hands exploring her body, his lips touching down on her most shocking places, but she wasn’t ready to move their relationship to the next level yet, and after waiting so long to share her body with someone, she wanted to be sure Preston was the right someone.

And yes, she worried for the day that she’d finally have to tell him that she was a virgin. What would he say? Would he be turned off by her inexperience? Her heart clenched as she imagined him rejecting her, walking away from her—

“And…?”

“Oh, uh…” She shook her head quickly. “N-Nothing.”

“What?” he asked, smiling at her, searching her eyes with his crystal clear, beautiful green. “Let me guess…they don’t date Lutherans?”

She grinned at him. “Not usually.”

He dropped his lips to hers, and she could taste the alcohol on them, but it didn’t bother her.

“You’ve never mentioned going to church. And the way you talk about your family…it sounds like you’ve placed some distance between your upbringing and your life here.”

After seven years in New York with a trip home only at Christmas every year, she was a lapsed Mennonite, at best.

“Believe it or not, there is a Mennonite church in Manhattan, and I’ve gone a few times, but besides the fact that the services conflict with my work schedule…I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel like me anymore. Frankly, I don’t have a problem with flashy clothes, though I don’t have many. I don’t even really have a problem with drinking, I just never started and figure there’s no reason to start now.”

“Would you call yourself a Mennonite?”

A hot pink neon sign that read “V-CARD” flashed obnoxiously in her brain.

“It’ll always be a part of who I am. But, no, I wouldn’t call myself a practicing Mennonite anymore. I think I’d just call myself…someone who hopes she’s a good person.”

“You are a good person. You know that, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, thinking about her mother’s disappointed, disapproving face when Elise shared that she’d be attending theater school in New York City after high school graduation. It had hurt her deeply that her parents couldn’t support such an important decision in her life. It wasn’t like acting was immoral, and Elise was careful about the roles she accepted. No nudity, nothing really foul-mouthed or erotic. Still, it didn’t matter. They would never leave Lowville to come and see her in a play. She had long since recognized that her parents would never accept her for who she was, and she’d had to make her peace with it.

“A good daughter would have stayed home on the farm,” she said, careful to keep the bitterness from her voice, but unable to hold back the sorrow. “My parents and sisters don’t really understand what I’m doing here.”

“Well, I do. And I think it was incredibly brave of you to leave your home to follow your dream,” he said firmly, pushing her hair behind her ear and putting his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer.

She leaned into him, amazed that for the first time in longer than Elise could remember, she didn’t feel alone. It made a well of gratitude swell deep within her and she was determined not to take his strength and warmth for granted. Not today. Not ever.

“From the time I was a little girl I knew the simple life wasn’t for me. I wanted something so different from that life. I wanted so much more.”

“And you made it happen,” he said, “all on your own. I’m blown away by you, Elise Klassan.”

***