Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

better get some food together,” I declare. “Mia, will you give me a hand?”
    “Oh, I’d love to.”
    I usher her toward the kitchen area as Christian leads his parents into his study.
    Kate is apoplectic with righteous indignation that’s aimed at me, Christian, but most of all Jack and Elizabeth.
    “What were you thinking, Ana?” she shouts as she confronts me in the kitchen, causing all eyes in the room to turn and stare.
    “Kate, please. I’ve had the same lecture from everyone!” I snap back. She glares at me, and for one minute I think I’m going to be subjected to a Katherine Kavanagh how-not-to-succumb-to-kidnappers lecture, but instead she folds me in her arms.
    “Jeez—sometimes you don’t have the brains you were born with, Steele,” she whispers. As she kisses my cheek, there are tears in her eyes . Kate! “I’ve been so worried about you.”
    “Don’t cry. You’ll set me off.”
    She stands back and wipes her eyes, embarrassed, then takes a deep breath and composes herself. “On a more positive note, we’ve set a date for our wedding. We thought next May? And of course I want you to be my matron of honor.”
    “Oh . . . Kate . . . Wow. Congratulations!” Crap—Little Blip . . . Junior!
    “What is it?” she asks, misinterpreting my alarm.
    “Um . . . I’m just so happy for you. Some good news for a change.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug. Shit, shit, shit . When is Blip due? Mentally I calculate my due date. Dr. Greene said I was four or five weeks. So—sometime in May? Shit.
    Elliot hands me a glass of champagne.
    Oh. Shit.
    Christian emerges from his study, looking ashen, and follows his parents into the great room. His eyes widen when he sees the glass in my hand.
    “Kate,” he greets her coolly.
    “Christian.” She is equally cool. I sigh.
    “Your meds, Mrs. Grey.” He eyes the glass in my hand.
    I narrow my eyes. Dammit. I want a drink. Grace smiles as she joins me in the kitchen, collecting a glass from Elliot on the way.
    “A sip will be fine,” she whispers with a conspiratorial wink at me, and lifts her glass to clink mine. Christian scowls at both of us, until Elliot distracts him with news of the latest match between the Mariners and the Rangers.
    Carrick joins us, putting his arms around us both, and Grace kisses his cheek before joining Mia on the sofa.
    “How is he?” I whisper to Carrick as he and I stand in the kitchen watching the family lounge on the sofa. I note with surprise that Mia and Ethan are holding hands.
    “Shaken,” Carrick murmurs to me, his brow furrowing, his face serious. “He remembers so much of his life with his birth mother; many things I wish he didn’t. But this—” He stops. “I hope we’ve helped. I’m glad he called us. He said you told him to.” Carrick’s gaze softens. I shrug and take a hasty sip of champagne.
    “You’re very good for him. He doesn’t listen to anyone else.”
    I frown. I don’t think that’s true. The unwelcome specter of the Bitch Troll looms large in my mind. I know Christian talks to Grace, too. I heard him. Again I feel a moment’s frustration as I try to fathom their conversation in the hospital, but it still eludes me.
    “Come and sit down, Ana. You look tired. I’m sure you weren’t expecting all of us here this evening.”
    “It’s great to see everyone.” I smile. Because it’s true, it is great. I’m an only child who has married into a large and gregarious family, and I love it. I snuggle up next to Christian.
    “One sip,” he hisses at me and takes my glass from my hand.
    “Yes, Sir.” I bat my lashes, disarming him completely. He puts his arm around my shoulders and returns to his baseball conversation with Elliot and Ethan.
    “My parents think you walk on water,” Christian mutters as he drags off his T-shirt.
    I’m curled up in bed watching the floorshow. “Good thing you know differently.” I snort.
    “Oh, I don’t know.” He slips out of his jeans.
    “Did they fill in the gaps for you?”
    “Some. I lived with the Colliers for two months while Mom and Dad waited for the paperwork. They were already approved for adoption because of Elliot, but the wait’s required by law to see if I had any living relatives who wanted to claim me.”
    “How do you feel about that?” I whisper.
    He frowns. “About having no living relatives? Fuck that. If they were anything like the crack whore . . .” He shakes his head in