I stepped inside, my feet quiet on the hooked rug. My thumb immediately went to my silver wedding band, spinning it twice around my knuckle.
“Your grandmother came to my room at six this morning,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Ethan did not turn around immediately. He kept his eyes on the shirt collars, adjusting one with a slow thumb.
“Grace? She usually doesn’t stir until the coffee pot starts whistling. Did she need something?”
“She wanted to warn me,” I said.
He turned then, a hanger dangling from his index finger. “Warn you about what? The damp drafts in the northeast corner of the house?”
“About the blue velvet box,” I said, watching his face. “She told me that if you offer it to me, I shouldn’t accept it. She was shivering, Ethan. She looked like she had been awake all night.”
Ethan ran his hand through his short brown hair, leaving the front strands standing up. He let out a soft, amused laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
