Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

stands beside Christian’s best man, his brother Elliot. Who knew that even Elliot could scrub up so well? All wear huge, beaming smiles—except Grace, who weeps graciously into a dainty white handkerchief.
    “Ready to party, Mrs. Grey?” Christian murmurs, giving me his shy smile. I melt. He looks divine in a simple black tux with silver waistcoat and tie. He’s so . . . dashing.
    “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I grin, a totally goofy smile on my face.
    Later the wedding party is in full swing . . . Carrick and Grace have gone to town. They have the marquee set up again and beautifully decorated in pale pink, silver, and ivory with its sides open, facing the bay. We have been blessed with fine weather, and the late afternoon sun shines over the water. There’s a dance floor at one end of the marquee, a lavish buffet at the other.
    Ray and my mother are dancing and laughing with each other. I feel bittersweet watching them together. I hope Christian and I last longer. I don’t know what I’d do if he left me. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. The saying haunts me.
    Kate is beside me, looking so beautiful in her long silk gown. She glances at me and frowns. “Hey, this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life,” she scolds.
    “It is,” I whisper.
    “Oh, Ana, what’s wrong? Are you watching your mom and Ray?”
    I nod sadly.
    “They’re happy.”
    “Happier apart.”
    “You’re having doubts?” Kate asks, alarmed.
    “No, not at all. It’s just . . . I love him so much.” I freeze, unable or unwilling to articulate my fears.
    “Ana, it’s obvious he adores you. I know you had an unconventional start to your relationship, but I can see how happy you’ve both been over the past month.” She grasps my hands, squeezing them. “Besides, it’s too late now,” she adds with a grin.
    I giggle. Trust Kate to point out the obvious. She pulls me into a Katherine Kavanagh Special Hug. “Ana, you’ll be fine. And if he hurts one hair on your head, he’ll have me to answer to.” Releasing me, she grins at whoever is behind me.
    “Hi, baby.” Christian puts his arms around me, surprising me, and kisses my temple. “Kate,” he acknowledges. He’s still cool toward her even after six weeks.
    “Hello again, Christian. I’m off to find your best man, who happens to be my best man, too.” With a smile to us both, she heads over to Elliot, who is drinking with her brother Ethan and our friend José.
    “Time to go,” Christian murmurs.
    “Already? This is the first party I’ve been to where I don’t mind being the center of attention.” I turn in his arms to face him.
    “You deserve to be. You look stunning, Anastasia.”
    “So do you.”
    He smiles, his expression heating. “This beautiful dress becomes you.”
    “This old thing?” I blush shyly and pull on the fine lace trim of the simple, fitted wedding dress designed for me by Kate’s mother. I love that the lace is just off the shoulder—demure, yet alluring, I hope.
    He bends and kisses me. “Let’s go. I don’t want to share you with all these people anymore.”
    “Can we leave our own wedding?”
    “Baby, it’s our party, and we can do whatever we want. We’ve cut the cake. And right now, I’d like to whisk you away and have you all to myself.”
    I giggle. “You have me for a lifetime, Mr. Grey.”
    “I’m very glad to hear that, Mrs. Grey.”
    “Oh, there you two are! Such lovebirds.”
    I groan inwardly . . . Grace’s mother has found us.
    “Christian, darling—one more dance with your grandma?”
    Christian purses his lips. “Of course, Grandmother.”
    “And you, beautiful Anastasia, go and make an old man happy—dance with Theo.”
    “Theo, Mrs. Trevelyan?”
    “Grandpa Trevelyan. And I think you can call me Grandma. Now, you two seriously need to get working on my great-grandkids. I won’t last too much longer.” She gives us both a simpering smile.
    Christian blinks at her in horror. “Come, Grandmother,” he says, hurriedly taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. He glances back at me, practically pouting, and rolls his eyes. “Laters, baby.”
    As I walk toward Grandpa Trevelyan, José accosts me.
    “I won’t ask you for another dance. I think I monopolized too much of your time on the dance floor as it is . . . I’m happy to see you happy, but I’m serious, Ana. I’ll be here . . . If you need me.”
    “José, thank you. You’re a good