Fifty Shades Freed (Fifty Shades #3)(56)
Author: E.L. James

"How old is he?" I ask Christian, leaning close so only he can hear. Much as I’d like to know what’s going on, I don’t want to encourage Kate’s questions. I know they’re irritating Christian, and I’m sure she’s on his shit list since Cocktailgate.

"Thirty-two. Why?"

"Curious, that’s all."

Christian’s jaw tightens. "Don’t be curious about Hyde. I’m just glad the f**ker’s locked up." It’s almost a reprimand, but I choose to ignore his tone.

"Do you think he’s working with someone?" The thought that someone else might be involved makes me sick. It would mean this isn’t over.

"I don’t know," Christian answers, and his jaw tightens once more.

"Maybe someone who has a grudge against you?" I suggest. Holy shit. I hope it’s not the bitch troll. "Like Elena?" I whisper. I realize I’ve muttered her name out loud – but only he can hear. I glance anxiously at Kate, but she’s deep in conversation with Elliot. Elliot looks pissed at her. Hmm.

"You do like to demonize her, don’t you?" Christian rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disgust. "She may hold a grudge, but she wouldn’t do this kind of thing." He pins me with a steady gray gaze.

"Let’s not discuss her. I know she’s not your favorite topic of conversation."

"Have you confronted her?" I whisper, not sure if I really want to know.

"Ana, I haven’t spoken to her since my birthday party. Please, drop it. I don’t want to talk about her." He raises my hand and brushes my knuckles with his lips. His eyes burn into mine, and I know this is not a line of questioning I should pursue right now.

"Get a room," Elliot teases. "Oh right – you already have, but you didn’t need it for long." He smirks.

Christian glances up and pins Elliot with a cool glare. "Fuck off, Elliot," he says without malice.

"Dude, just telling you how it is." Elliot’s eyes light up with mirth.

"Like you’d know," Christian murmurs sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot grins, enjoying the banter. "You married your first girlfriend."

Elliot gestures at me.

Oh shit. Where is this going? I flush.

"Can you blame me?" Christian kisses my hand again.

"No." Elliot laughs and shakes his head.

I flush, and Kate slaps Elliot’s thigh.

"Stop being an ass," she scolds him.

"Listen to your girlfriend," Christian says to Elliot, grinning, his earlier concern no longer evident. My ears pop as we gain altitude, and the tension in the cabin dissipates as the plane levels out. Kate scowls at Elliot. Hmm . . . is something up between them? I’m not sure. Elliot is right. I snort at the irony. I am – was – Christian’s first girlfriend, and now I’m his wife. The fifteen and the evil Mrs. Robinson – they don’t count. But then Elliot doesn’t know about them, and clearly Kate hasn’t told him. I smile at her, and she gives me a conspiratorial wink. My secrets are safe with Kate.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be cruising at an altitude of approximately thirty-two thousand feet, and our estimated flight time is one hour and fifty-six minutes," Stephan announces. "You are now free to move about the cabin."

Natalia appears abruptly from the galley.

"May I offer anyone coffee?" she asks.

Chapter Thirteen

We land smoothly at Sardy Field at 12:25 p.m. (MST). Stephan brings the plane to a halt a little way from the main terminal, and through the windows I spot a large VW minivan waiting for us.

"Good landing." Christian grins and shakes Stephan’s hand as we get ready to file out of the jet.

"It’s all about the density altitude, sir." Stephan smiles back.

"Beighley here is good at math."

Christian nods at Stephan’s first officer. "You nailed it, Beighley, smooth landing."

"Thank you, sir." She grins smugly.

"Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey. We’ll see you tomorrow." Stephan steps aside to let us disembark and taking my hand, Christian leads me down the aircraft steps to where Taylor is waiting by the vehicle.

"Minivan?" says Christian in surprise as Taylor slides open the door.

Taylor gives him a tight, contrite smile and a slight shrug.

"Last minute, I know," Christian says, immediately placated. Taylor returns to the plane to retrieve our luggage.

"Want to make out in the back of the van?" Christian murmurs to me, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

I giggle. Who is this man, and what has he done with Mr. Unbelievably Angry of the last couple of days?

"Come on, you two. Get in," Mia says from behind us, oozing impatience beside Ethan. We climb in, stagger to the double seat at the back, and sit down. I snuggle against Christian, and he puts his arm around the back of my seat. "Comfortable?" he murmurs as Mia and Ethan take the seat in front of us.

"Yes." I smile and he kisses my forehead. And for some unfathomable reason I feel shy with him today. Why? Last night? Being with company? I can’t put my finger on it.

Elliot and Kate join us last as Taylor opens the liftgate to load the luggage. Five minutes later, we are on our way.

I gaze out the window as we head toward Aspen. The trees are green, but a whisper of the coming fall is evident here and there in the yellowing tips of the leaves. The sky is a clear crystal blue, though there are darkening clouds to the west. All around us in the distance loom the Rockies, the highest peak directly ahead. They’re lush and green, and the highest are capped with snow and look like a child’s drawing of mountains.

We’re in the winter playground of the rich and famous. And I own a house here. I can barely believe it. And from deep within my psyche, the familiar unease that’s always present when I try to wrap my head around Christian’s wealth looms and taunts me, making me feel guilty. What have I done to deserve this lifestyle . . . ? I’ve done nothing; nothing, except fall in love.

"Have you been to Aspen before, Ana?" Ethan turns and asks dragging me out of my reverie.

"No, first time. You?"

"Kate and I used to come here a lot when we were teens. Dad’s a keen skier. Mom less so."

"I’m hoping my husband will teach me how to ski." I glance up at my man.

"Don’t bet on it," Christian mutters.

"I won’t be that bad!"

"You might break your neck." His grin gone.

Oh. I don’t want to argue and sour his good mood, so I change the subject. "How long have you had this place?"

"Nearly two years. It’s yours now, too, Mrs. Grey," he says softly.

"I know," I whisper. But somehow I don’t feel the courage of my convictions. Leaning up, I kiss his jaw and nestle once more at his side listening to him laugh and joke with Ethan and Elliot. Mia chimes in occasionally, but Kate is quiet, and I wonder if she’s brooding about Jack Hyde – or something else. Then I remember. Aspen . . . Christian’s house here was redesigned – or rebuilt, I can’t remember which – by Gia Matteo. I wonder if that’s what’s preoccupying Kate. I can’t ask her in front of Elliot, given his history with Gia. Does Kate even know about Gia’s connection to the house? I frown wondering what could be bothering her and resolve to ask her when we’re on our own.

We drive through the center of Aspen and my mood brightens as I take in the town. There are squat buildings of mostly red brick, Swissstyle chalets, and numerous little turn of the century houses painted in fun colors. Plenty of banks and designer shops, too, betraying the affluence of the local populace. Of course Christian fits in here.

"Why did you choose Aspen?" I ask him.

"What?" He regards me quizzically.

"To buy a place."

"Mom and Dad used to bring us here when we were kids. I learned to ski here, and I like the place. I hope you do, too – otherwise we’ll sell the house and choose somewhere else."

Oh! Simple as that. He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

"You look lovely today," he murmurs.

My cheeks heat. I’m just wearing my travelling gear; jeans and a Tshirt with a lightweight navy blue jacket. Damn it? Why does he make me feel shy?

He leans down and kisses me, a tender, sweet, loving kiss. Taylor drives us on out of town, and we start to climb the other side of the valley, twisting along a mountain road. The higher we go, the more excited I get, and Christian tenses beside me.

"What’s wrong?" I ask as we round a bend.

"I hope you like it," he says quietly. "We’re here."