Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(157)

"Sister!" she exclaims, and it's hard not to be swept up in her joy.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Christian wakes me. "We're about to land. Buckle up."




I fumble sleepily for my seat belt, but Christian fastens it for me. He kisses my forehead before settling back into his seat. I lean my head on his shoulder again and close my eyes.

An impossibly long hike and a picnic lunch on top of a spectacular mountain have exhausted me. The rest of our party is quiet, too—even Mia. She looks despondent, as she has all day. I wonder how her campaign with Ethan is going. I don't even know where they slept last night. My eyes catch hers, and I give a small are-you-okay smile. She gives me a brief sad smile in return and goes back to her book. I peek up at Christian through my lashes. He's working on a contract or something, reading it through and annotating the margins. But he seems relaxed. Elliot is snoring softly beside Kate.

I have yet to corner Elliot and quiz him about Gia, but it's been impossible to pry him away from Kate. Christian isn't interested enough to ask, which is irritating, but I haven't pressed him. We've been enjoying ourselves too much. Elliot rests his hand possessively on Kate's knee. She looks radiant, and to think that only yesterday afternoon she was so unsure of him. What did Christian call him?

Lelliot. Perhaps that's a family nickname? It was sweet, better than manwhore.

Abruptly, Elliot opens his eyes and gazes straight at me. I blush, caught staring.

He grins. "I sure love your blush, Ana," he teases, stretching. Kate gives me her self-satisfied, cat-ate-the-canary smile.

Officer Beighley announces our approach to Sea-Tac, and Christian clasps my hand.

"How was your weekend, Mrs. Grey?" Christian asks once we're in the Audi heading back to Escala. Taylor and Ryan are up front.




"Good, thank you." I smile, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"We can go anytime. Take anyone you wish to take."

"We should take Ray. He'd like the fishing."

"That's a good idea."

"How was it for you?" I ask.

"Good," he says after a moment, surprised by my question, I think. "Real good."

"You seemed to relax."

He shrugs. "I knew you were safe."

I frown. "Christian, I'm safe most of the time. I've told you before, you'll keel over at forty if you keep up this level of anxiety. And I want to grow old and gray with you." I grasp his hand. He looks at me as if he can't comprehend what I'm saying. He gently kisses my knuckles and changes the subject.

"How's your hand?"

"It's better, thank you."

He smiles. "Very good, Mrs. Grey. You ready to face Gia again?"

Oh crap. I'd forgotten we were seeing her this evening to go over the final plans. I roll my eyes. "I might want to keep you out of the way, keep you safe." I smirk.

"Protecting me?" Christian is laughing at me.

"As ever, Mr. Grey. From all sexual predators," I whisper.

Christian is brushing his teeth when I crawl into bed. Tomorrow we go back to reality—back to work, the paparazzi, and to Jack in custody but with the possibility that he has an accomplice. Hmm . . . Christian was vague about that. Does he know? And if he did know, would he tell me? I sigh. Getting information out of Christian is like pulling teeth, and we've had such a lovely weekend. Do I want to ruin the feel-good moment by trying to drag the information out of him?

It's been a revelation to see him out of his normal environment, outside this apartment, relaxed and happy with his family. I wonder vaguely if it's because we're here in this apartment with all its memories and associations that he gets wound up. Maybe we should move.