Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,272

such a beneficial effect. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve finally laid the ghost of Elena Lincoln to rest, or if it’s because my parents have provided me with some of the missing pieces from the incomplete puzzle that was my former life, but my heart is lighter somehow—freer, even—but tethered, and as steadfast as ever, to the beautiful woman beside me.

Ana knows me.

She refracts my darkness and turns it to brilliant light.

I shake my head at my fanciful thoughts.

Flowery, Grey.

She’s still here, in spite of all that I’ve done.

The warmth of her love spreads through my veins.

Reaching over, I squeeze her leg, then trail my fingers over her exposed flesh above her thigh-high, relishing the feel of her skin. “I’m glad you didn’t change.”

Ana covers my hand with her own. “Are you going to continue to tease me?”

I didn’t know that’s what I was doing.

But, hey, I’ll play. “Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” I beam at her.

“Two can play that game,” she whispers.

I move my fingers up her inner thigh. “Bring it on, Mrs. Grey.”

She takes my hand and places it on my knee. “Well, you can keep your hands to yourself,” she says primly.

“As you wish, Mrs. Grey.”

I cannot hide my smile. I love playful Ana.

Ha. I love Ana. Period.

Stopping at the gates to our house, I press the entry code into the keypad. The metal gates swing slowly open, creaking a protest at being disturbed. They need replacing, and we’ll get around to it eventually. Speeding along the driveway, I wish I’d taken the top down on the car. The tall grass in the meadow is golden beneath the September sun, and the trees lining the drive are all decked in the colors of the coming fall. The Sound in the distance is a brilliant blue. It’s idyllic.

And it’s ours.

As the lane meanders around a wide curve, the house appears, surrounded by a number of Elliot’s construction trucks. It’s hidden behind scaffolding, and several of Elliot’s crew are at work on the roof. I park outside the portico, switch off the engine, and turn to Ana. “Let’s go find Elliot.” I’m buzzing to see what he’s accomplished so far.

“Is he here?”

“I hope so. I’m paying him enough.”

She laughs and we both exit the car.

“Yo, bro!” I hear Elliot shout, but I can’t see him.

“Up here!” I scan the roofline, grateful that I’m wearing aviators against the glare of the sun, and there he is, waving at us. His grin rivals the Cheshire Cat’s. “About time we saw you here. Stay where you are. I’ll be right down.”

I reach out to Ana, and she takes my hand, and while we wait, we study the exterior of what will be our home. It’s bigger than I remember.

Plenty of room for our child.

My wayward thought surprises me.

Finally, Elliot appears at the front door caked in grime but still wearing his broad grin. He’s clearly over the moon that we’re here. “Hey, bro.” He pumps my hand like he’s trying to drag water from the deepest well. “And how are you, little lady?” He grabs Ana and swings her around.

“Better, thanks,” she says, laughing, a little embarrassed, I think.

Dude! Quit manhandling my wife! Her ribs are bruised!

He sets her down and I scowl at him.

Asshole.

But he ignores me—no one is raining on his parade today. “Let’s head over to the site office. You’ll need one of these.” He slaps the hard hat perched on his head.

Elliot gives us a thorough tour of the house, or what’s left of it—it’s almost a shell. Meticulously he explains the work in progress, and how long each stage is going to take. When he’s in his element like this, he’s so engaging. Both Ana and I listen, rapt.

The back wall at the rear has disappeared. This is where Gia Matteo’s glass wall will be, and the view is spectacular. There are a few sails out on the Sound, and I’m tempted to go down to The Grace after our visit here. But that’s not such a good idea, given Ana’s recent injuries. She’s still recovering and needs to take it easy.

“Hopefully we’ll be finished by Christmas,” Elliot declares.

“Next year,” I interject. There is no way we’ll be in by Christmas.

“We’ll see. With a fair wind it’s doable.”

In the kitchen, he concludes our tour. “I’ll leave you two to roam. Be careful. This is a building site.”

“Sure. Thanks, Elliot.”

My brother gives us a cheery wave and heads up the covered staircase to join his construction crew, back