Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 160

“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?

his usual devil-may-care demeanor in an instant. “You’re gonna catch flies with that mouth open, dude. Go catch

But as I watch him reverse out of the driveway, something tells me she won’t. With a brisk wave, he’s

is in the mudroom, checking out the line

be wet anyway, with this rain,” Ethan replies with

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

“You fished around here before?” I ask Ethan as

“Here, no. But around the Yakima. My

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

“Yeah. Dad told me you’re working with

“GEH is updating his fiber-optic network.”

“He’s

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

Ethan nods. “He says

“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

“Cool.” He selects one and

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

I’ll give you some room,”

My reel is attached, but I quickly assemble the rest of the rod and run the fly-line through the guides and attach my fly to the tippet. I’m ready. A glance at Ethan, who must be twenty-five feet away, tells me he’s ready, too. He makes his first cast. It’s smooth and graceful, and the fly lands in what looks like a sweet

The Roaring Fork gurgles westward at my feet, flanked by rocks and silver birches. It’s a perfect, peaceful setting. The mere sight of this wilderness is enough to make me exhale. I gaze intently at the water as it rushes past me, and slowly wade into the shallows.

Dad is standing with me in the water.

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