Fifty Shades Freed (Fifty Shades 3) - Chapter 86

“That’s . . . that’s such a lovely thing to say.”

“It’s true. I didn’t know it at the time.” He smiles his shy smile.

“I’m glad you waited.”

“You are worth waiting for, Mrs. Grey.” He tips my chin up with his finger, leans down, and kisses me tenderly.

“So are you.” I smile. “Though I feel I like I cheated. I didn’t have to wait long for you at all.”

He grins. “Am I that much of a prize?”

“Christian, you are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin’s lamp all rolled into one.”

He raises a brow.

“When will you realize this?” I scold him. “You were a very eligible bachelor. And I don’t mean all this.” I wave dismissingly at our plush surroundings. “I mean in here.” I place my hand over his heart, and his eyes widen. My confident, sexy husband has gone, and I’m facing my lost boy. “Believe me, Christian, please,” I whisper and reach up to clasp his face, pulling his lips to mine. He groans, and I don’t know if it’s the pain of hearing what I have to say or his usual primal response. I claim him, my lips moving against his, my tongue invading his mouth.

When we’re both breathless, he pulls away, eyeing me doubtfully.

“When are you going to get it through your exceptionally thick skull that I love you?” I ask, exasperated.

He swallows. “One day,” he says.

This is progress. I smile and am rewarded with his answering shy smile.

“Come. Let’s have some lunch – the others will be wondering where we are. We can discuss what we all want to do.”

“Oh no!” Kate says suddenly.

All eyes turn to her.

“Look,” she says, pointing to the picture window. Outside, rain has started pouring down. We are sitting around the dark wood table in the kitchen having consumed an Italian feast of a mixed antipasto, prepared by Mrs. Bentley, and a bottle or two of Frascati. I’m replete and a little buzzy from the alcohol.

“There goes our hike,” Elliot mutters, sounding vaguely relieved. Kate scowls at him. Something is definitely up with them . . . They have been relaxed with all of us but not with each other.

“We could go into town,” Mia pipes up. Ethan smirks at her.

“Perfect weather for fishing,” Christian suggests.

“I’ll go fish,” Ethan says.

“Let’s split up.” Mia claps her hands. “Girls, shopping – boys, outdoor boring stuff.”

I glance at Kate, who regards Mia indulgently. Fishing or shopping?

Jeez, what a choice.

“Ana, what do you want to do?” Christian asks.

“I don’t mind,” I lie.

Kate catches my eye and mouths “shopping” at me, perhaps she wants to talk.

“But I’m more than happy to go shopping.” I add, smiling wryly at Kate and Mia. Christian smirks. He knows I hate shopping.

“I can stay here with you, if you’d like,” he murmurs, and something dark unfurls in my belly at his tone.

“No, you go fish,” I answer. Christian needs boy time.

“Sounds like a plan,” Kate says, rising from the table.

“Taylor will accompany you,” Christian says, and it’s a given – not up for discussion.

“We don’t need babysitting,” Kate retorts bluntly, direct as ever. I put my hand on Kate’s arm. “Kate, Taylor should come.”

She frowns, then shrugs, and for once in her life holds her tongue. I smile timidly at Christian . His expression remains impassive. Oh, I hope he’s not mad at Kate.

Elliot frowns. “I need to pick up a battery for my watch in town.”

He glances quickly at Kate, and I spot his slight blush. She doesn’t notice because she is pointedly ignoring him.

“Take the Audi, Elliot. When you come back we can go fishing,”

Christian says.

“Yeah!” Elliot mutters, but he seems distracted. “Good plan.”

“In here.” Grabbing my hand, Mia hauls me into a designer boutique that’s all pink silk and faux-French distressed rustic furniture. Kate follows us while Taylor waits outside, sheltering under the awning from the rain. Aretha is belting out “Say A Little Prayer” over the store’s hi-fi system. I love this song. I should put it on Christian’s iPod.

“This will look wonderful on you, Ana.” Mia holds up a scrap of silver material. “Here, try it on.”

“Um . . . it’s a bit short.”

“You’ll look fantastic in it. Christian will love it.”

“You think?”

Mia beams at me. “Ana, you have legs to die for, and if we go clubbing tonight” – she smiles, sensing an easy kill – “you’ll look hot for your husband.”

I blink at her, slightly shocked. We’re going clubbing? I don’t do clubbing.

Kate laughs at my expression. She seems more relaxed now that she’s away from Elliot. “We should throw some shapes this evening,”

she says.

“Go try it on,” Mia orders, and reluctantly I head for the changing room.

While I wait for Kate and Mia to emerge from the dressing room, I stroll to the shop window and look out, unseeing, across the main street. The soul compilation continues: Dionne Warwick is singing

“Walk On By.” Another great song – one of my mother’s favorites. I glance down at The Dress in my hand. Dress is perhaps an overstatement. It’s backless and very short, but Mia has declared it a winner, perfect for dancing the night away. Apparently, I need shoes, too, and a large chunky necklace, which we’ll source next. Rolling my eyes, I reflect once more on how lucky I am to have Caroline Acton, my own personal shopper.

Through the boutique window I’m distracted by the sight of Elliot. He has appeared on the other side of the leafy main street, climbing out of a large Audi. Elliot dives into a store as if to duck out of the rain. Looks like a jewelry store . . . maybe he’s looking for that watch battery. He emerges a few minutes later, and not alone – with a woman.