Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,74

from me. Theo would rather be puttering around on the farm. But then you know that.”

“I do.” I have a stack of fond memories of helping Grandpa in his orchard. It’s one of my favorite places. “I’ll have to bring Ana to visit.”

“You must. You promise, now.”

“I promise.”

We shuffle around the dance floor to “Just the Way You Are,” a Bruno Mars track, which morphs into “Moves Like Jagger” by Maroon 5. My grandmother is loving it. I think she may have consumed a little too much Bollinger. But when the first few bars of “Sex on Fire” blast over the speakers, I decide it’s time to deliver Grandma back to her table.

Ana is not here. I sit down with Grandpa Trevelyan, and he tells me how he’s expecting a bumper harvest this fall. “Those apples’ll be the sweetest yet!”

“I can’t wait to try one,” I shout, because he’s a little hard of hearing.

“You happy, boy?” he asks.

“Very.”

“Yeah. You look it.” He pats my knee. “It’s good to see. Your bride, she’s a beautiful girl. You take good care of her, mind, and she’ll take good care of you.”

“I’m going to do just that. Right now, I’m going to find her. Good to see you, Grandpa.”

“I think she went to the restroom.”

I stand and Flynn approaches me, holding one of his boys, asleep on his shoulder. Rhian, his wife, holds the other—also out for the count.

“John!”

“Christian, congratulations. Lovely wedding.” He shakes my hand. “You know, I’d hug you, but I’m burdened with a small child, and I think it might breach my doctor-patient ethics.”

I laugh. “You’re good. Thanks for coming.”

“Good day, Christian,” Rhian says. “Great wedding. We have to take these two rascals home.”

“They were very well behaved.”

“That’s because we drugged them.” She winks.

I gasp.

“That’s a joke.” John side-eyes his wife. “Tempting though that might be on occasion, we’ve not resorted to it yet.”

She laughs. “They’re exhausted from running around the yard. Your folks have so much space, here.”

“Enjoy your honeymoon,” Flynn says, and takes Rhian’s hand.

“Thank you, good-bye.”

I watch them stroll across the lawn toward the house, weighed down by their responsibilities.

Better them than me.

I spy Ana standing on the terrace by the French doors to the house and text Taylor that we’d like to leave. I stick my hands in my pants pockets and amble over the lawn toward my wife. She’s pensive as she watches the dancing and the luminous sky over distant Seattle.

I wonder what she’s thinking about.

“Hi,” I say as I reach her.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“Let’s go.” I’m a little impatient to be alone with my wife.

“I have to change.” She reaches for my hand, and I think she means to drag me inside, but I resist. Her brows knit together in confusion. “I thought you wanted to be the one to take this dress off,” she states.

“Correct.” I squeeze her hand. “But I’m not undressing you here. We wouldn’t leave until…I don’t know.” I wave my hand, hoping that’s enough of an explanation.

She blushes and releases me.

As much as I want to peel her out of that dress, we have a jet waiting for us with an allotted takeoff time. “And don’t take your hair down, either,” I whisper, trying and failing to keep my desire out of my tone.

“But—” She frowns.

“No buts, Anastasia. You look beautiful. And I want to be the one to undress you. Pack your going-away clothes. You’ll need them.” For when we arrive at our destination. “Taylor has your main suitcase.”

“Okay.” She gives me a sweet smile, and I leave her and go in search of my mother and Alondra to tell them we’re off. It’s Alondra I find first.

“Thank you.” I shake her hand. “Everything went so well.”

“You’re so welcome, Mr. Grey. I’ll round everyone up right now.”

“Great. Thanks again.”

A misty-eyed Carla watches her daughter and ex-husband exchanging an awkward hug while Ana clutches her wedding bouquet. Ana’s eyes glisten.

“You’ll make one hell of a wife, too,” Ray murmurs, and once again tears glint in his eyes. Spying me, he shakes his head, and then my hand, warmly. “Look after my girl, Christian.”

“I fully intend to, Ray. Carla.” I give Ana’s mom a kiss on the cheek.

Outside the French doors, our remaining guests have gathered and formed a human arch from the terrace around the side of the house and all the way to the front.

I check Ana’s expression. Her smile is back. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Hand in hand, we duck beneath all the outstretched arms and dash through the arch, where