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  “Christian and Anastasia, you two have agreed to be married and to live together in matrimony. You have declared your love for each other and promised to uphold that love with your vows. With the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now declare you husband and wife.” He releases our hands and Ana beams up at me.

  Wife.

  Mine.

  My heart soars.

  “You may kiss the bride,” Reverend Michael says with a huge grin.

  “Finally, you’re mine,” I whisper, and pull her into my arms, flush against me, and plant a soft kiss on her lips. There are tiny buttons at the back of her dress and I fantasize about slowly undoing them. I ignore the cheers and applause from our guests, as my body comes alive. “You look beautiful, Ana.” I caress her face. “Don’t let anyone take that dress off but me, understand?” I gaze down at her, trying to convey a sensual promise. She nods, her eyes darkening with desire.

  Oh, Ana.

  I want to pick her up and carry her to my boyhood room and consummate our marriage. Now. But I’m sure I won’t get away with that.

  Get a grip, Grey.

  “Ready to party, Mrs. Grey?” I smile at my wife.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I bask in the warmth of her smile. Taking her hand, I extend the other to Reverend Michael.

  “Thank you, Reverend. That was a lovely ceremony. And it was brief.”

  “I had my instructions,” he says, and shakes our hands in turn. “Congratulations, both of you.”

  I have to release Ana as Kate drags her into a hug, and Elliot wraps his arms around me. “Man, you did it. Congratulations.”

  “Christian!” Mia hollers, and barrels into my arms. “I love Ana! I love you!” she gushes, and crushes me.

  “Mia. Steady. I need my ribs intact.”

  So begins an endless round of congratulations, kisses, and hugs. I gird my loins to tolerate all the unnecessary touching I’m about to endure. It helps that I’m elated. When I turn to my mother, she’s sobbing. I give her a brief hug, mindful of her makeup, while Carrick slaps me on the back. Carla and Bob are next. Ray Steele shakes my hand, squeezing harder and harder.

  “Congratulations, Christian. You should know, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’d expect no less, Ray.”

  “I’m glad we understand each other.” He grins and releases my now throbbing hand and claps me on the back. I flex my fingers and remind myself that Raymond Steele is ex-army.

  Sipping a coupe of vintage Grande Année Rosé, I watch my beautiful wife as she makes her way toward me. We’ve just completed what feels like a major photoshoot with the wedding photographers, and now I’m standing near our table in the hope of having a bite to eat—getting married has given me an appetite. Ana stops every so often to talk to our guests, welcoming them and graciously receiving their good wishes. Her light shines so bright, her smile bringing everyone she greets to life.

  She’s an extraordinary person. A stunning woman.

  And she’s mine.

  When she finally reaches me, I take her hand and pull it to my lips. “Hi,” I whisper. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Hi. I’ve missed you, too.”

  “You’ve dispensed with your veil. It was lovely.”

  “It was. But people kept treading on it!”

  I cringe. “That must have been annoying.”

  “It was.”

  My father takes the microphone. “Good afternoon, all,” he says. “Welcome to our home here in Bellevue, and to Christian and Ana’s wedding. If you don’t know me, I am very proud to say I am Christian’s dad, Carrick. I’m hoping to speak to all of you at some point during the afternoon or evening. In the meantime, you should all have a glass of the good stuff and I’d like us all to raise our glasses to Christian and his beautiful wife, Ana. Congratulations you two. Welcome to the family, Ana. And both of you, be kind to each other. To Christian and Ana!”

  My father gives me a warm, tender smile, which I feel all the way to my toes. I raise my glass to him as everyone raises their glasses and the words “Christian and Ana” hover around us all.

  “Please make your way to your table. We’ll be starting lunch shortly,” Dad continues.

  I pull out Ana’s chair; she sits and I take the seat beside her. From here we have the best view of the entire pavilion. I’m thankful to be seated at last. I’m ravenous. The table looks lovely covered in white linen and floral arrangements with white and pink roses. Our parents join us, with Elliot and Kate and Mia and Bob.

  Ana and my mom have opted for a buffet, but as the bridal party, we’re served our appetizers while our guests find their seats. There’s fresh sourdough, with some herby-looking butter, and a delicious cheese soufflé with a delicate garden salad. My wife and I tuck in.

  Elliot is going to make a speech. He’s had several glasses of champagne, so this could go either way. We’ve finished our entrée of king salmon en croute and I take a gulp of Bollinger and brace myself.

  Elliot winks at me and rises from the table. “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome. I’ve drawn the short straw—I mean, I’m honored to be Christian’s best man, and his brother, and to be asked to make a speech. But forgive me—public speaking is not my thing. Growing up with Christian Grey was not my thing, either. He was a nightmare of a brother. Just ask my folks.”

  Fuck! Elliot? But this gets a laugh. Ana squeezes my hand.

  “This man can beat the shit out of me and did, frequently. And any of you who have ever kickboxed with him will know, don’t mess with him. He’s badass. He’s a solitary guy. When he was younger he’d rather have had his head stuck in a book than be out tearing up the town with the likes of me. You’ve all heard how he found school challenging, so I’ll gloss over that—but somehow, by some fluke, and not because he’s smart or anything, he managed to get some sort of education and even talked his way into Harvard.

  “But it turned out Harvard wasn’t for him, either. He wanted to throw himself into the world of commerce and high finance. So, he did…he’s doing kinda okay with that.” Elliot shrugs, apparently unimpressed, and again the audience laughs.

  “During this whole time, not once did he show any interest in the opposite sex. None. Well, I’ll leave you to deduce what we all thought.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. I roll my eyes, and Elliot grins. “So, imagine our collective surprise and delight when not too long ago he shows up with this beautiful young woman, Anastasia Steele. It was obvious from the beginning that she’d captured his heart. And for some strange reason, maybe she was dropped on her head as a child”—he shrugs once more—“she fell for him.”

  Again, with the laughter from our guests!

  “Today they tied the knot, and I just want to say, Christian, Ana, congratulations. We are rooting for you. And no, she’s not pregnant!”

  There’s a communal gasp around all the tables.

  “To our bride and groom, Ana and Christian!” He raises his glass. I want to kill him, and judging by Ray Steele’s expression, so does he.

  Ana’s cheeks are pink, and she looks a little shocked.

  “Thanks, Elliot,” she says, laughing.

  I throw my napkin at him and turn to Ana. “Shall we cut the cake?”

  “Sure.”

  The DJ is primed and ready as Ana and I make our way to the dance floor. I sweep her into my arms as everyone gathers around us, and Ana settles her arms around my neck. The sweet, soulful words of the song ring through the pavilion, and from the corner of my eye I see Carla clutch her throat in recognition. And then I’ve only got eyes for my wife as Corinne Bailey Rae starts to sing “Like a Star.”

  Everyone else fades away. And it’s just the two of us gliding across the floor. “Like a star across my sky,” Ana whispers. She lifts her lips to mine and I’m lost…and found.


  “Mom, thank you for not insisting on a Catholic wedding.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Christian. I couldn’t force it on you. I thought Michael did a wonderful service.”

  “He did.” Leaning forward, I kiss my mother on her forehead. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again they burn with a curious intensity. “You look so happy, darling. I’m so thrilled for both of you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I glance over to where Kate and Ana are in a deep conversation. Elliot is watching them. No. Elliot is watching Kate. He can’t take his eyes off her. Perhaps he cares for her more than he’s letting on.

  The dance floor is full; Ray and Carla are taking a turn. They really do get on. I glance at my watch—it’s 5 p.m.—time we thought about leaving. I amble over toward my wife. Kate hugs her, hard, then grins at me, and I feel slightly less antagonistic toward her.

  “Hi, baby.” I slip my arms around Ana and kiss her temple. “Kate,” I acknowledge her.

  “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 Ethan and José.

  “Time to go,” I whisper.

  I’m done with this party. I want to be alone with my wife.

  “Already?” Ana says. “This is the first party I’ve been to where I don’t mind being the center of attention.” She turns in my arms and smiles up at me.

  “You deserve to be. You look stunning, Anastasia.”

  “So do you.”

  “This beautiful dress becomes you.” I love how it reveals her enticing shoulders.

  “This old thing?” She peers up at me, in that way that she does, all shy and bewitching through her lashes. She’s irresistible. Leaning down, I kiss her.

  “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.”

  She giggles. “You have me for a lifetime, Mr. Grey.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that, Mrs. Grey.”

  “Oh, there you two are! Such lovebirds.”

  Oh shit. Grandma Trevelyan strikes.

  “Christian, darling—one more dance with your grandma?”

  “Of course, Grandmother.” I swallow my sigh.

  “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.” Her smile borders on the lecherous.

  Grandma! Jesus!

  “Come, Grandmother,” I say, hastily.

  We have years before we have to think about kids.

  I lead her slowly onto the dance floor, glancing apologetically back at Ana and rolling my eyes. “Laters, baby!”

  Ana gives me a little wave.

  “Oh, darling boy, you look so handsome in your suit. And your bride! Stunning. You’ll make beautiful children together.”

  “One day, Grandmother. Are you enjoying the wedding?” I need to move her on to another subject.

  “Your parents know how to throw a party. Of course, your mother gets that from me. Theo would rather be puttering around on the farm. But then you know that.”

  “I do.” I have a stack of fond memories of helping Grandpa in his orchard. It’s one of my favorite places. “I’ll have to bring Ana to visit.”

  “You must. You promise, now.”

  “I promise.”

  We shuffle around the dance floor to “Just the Way You Are,” a Bruno Mars track, which morphs into “Moves Like Jagger” by Maroon 5. My grandmother is loving it. I think she may have consumed a little too much Bollinger. But when the first few bars of “Sex on Fire” blast over the speakers, I decide it’s time to deliver Grandma back to her table.

  Ana is not here. I sit down with Grandpa Trevelyan, and he tells me how he’s expecting a bumper harvest this fall. “Those apples’ll be the sweetest yet!”

  “I can’t wait to try one,” I shout, because he’s a little hard of hearing.

  “You happy, boy?” he asks.

  “Very.”

  “Yeah. You look it.” He pats my knee. “It’s good to see. Your bride, she’s a beautiful girl. You take good care of her, mind, and she’ll take good care of you.”

  “I’m going to do just that. Right now, I’m going to find her. Good to see you, Grandpa.”

  “I think she went to the restroom.”

  I stand and Flynn approaches me, holding one of his boys, asleep on his shoulder. Rhian, his wife, holds the other—also out for the count.

  “John!”

  “Christian, congratulations. Lovely wedding.” He shakes my hand. “You know, I’d hug you, but I’m burdened with a small child, and I think it might breach my doctor-patient ethics.”

  I laugh. “You’re good. Thanks for coming.”

  “Good day, Christian,” Rhian says. “Great wedding. We have to take these two rascals home.”

  “They were very well behaved.”

  “That’s because we drugged them.” She winks.

  I gasp.

  “That’s a joke.” John side-eyes his wife. “Tempting though that might be on occasion, we’ve not resorted to it yet.”

  She laughs. “They’re exhausted from running around the yard. Your folks have so much space, here.”

  “Enjoy your honeymoon,” Flynn says, and takes Rhian’s hand.

  “Thank you, good-bye.”

  I watch them stroll across the lawn toward the house, weighed down by their responsibilities.

  Better them than me.

  I spy Ana standing on the terrace by the French doors to the house and text Taylor that we’d like to leave. I stick my hands in my pants pockets and amble over the lawn toward my wife. She’s pensive as she watches the dancing and the luminous sky over distant Seattle.

  I wonder what she’s thinking about.

  “Hi,” I say as I reach her.

  “Hi.” She smiles.

  “Let’s go.” I’m a little impatient to be alone with my wife.

  “I have to change.” She reaches for my hand, and I think she means to drag me inside, but I resist. Her brows knit together in confusion. “I thought you wanted to be the one to take this dress off,” she states.

  “Correct.” I squeeze her hand. “But I’m not undressing you here. We wouldn’t leave until…I don’t know.” I wave my hand, hoping that’s enough of an explanation.

  She blushes and releases me.

  As much as I want to peel her out of that dress, we have a jet waiting for us with an allotted takeoff time. “And don’t take your hair down, either,” I whisper, trying and failing to keep my desire out of my tone.

  “But—” She frowns.

  “No buts, Anastasia. You look beautiful. And I want to be the one to undress you. Pack your going-away clothes. You’ll need them.” For when we arrive at our destination. “Taylor has your main suitcase.”

  “Okay.” She gives me a sweet smile, and I leave her and go in search of my mother and Alondra to tell them we’re off. It’s Alondra I find first.

  “Thank you.” I shake her hand. “Everything went so well.”

  “You’re so welcome, Mr. Grey. I’ll round everyone up right now.”

  “Great. Thanks again.”

  A misty-eyed Carla watches her daughter and ex-husband exchanging an awkward hug while Ana clutches her wedding bouquet. Ana’s eyes glisten.

  “You’ll make one hell of a wife, too,” Ray murmurs, and once aga
in tears glint in his eyes. Spying me, he shakes his head, and then my hand, warmly. “Look after my girl, Christian.”

  “I fully intend to, Ray. Carla.” I give Ana’s mom a kiss on the cheek.

  Outside the French doors, our remaining guests have gathered and formed a human arch from the terrace around the side of the house and all the way to the front.

  I check Ana’s expression. Her smile is back. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Hand in hand, we duck beneath all the outstretched arms and dash through the arch, where we’re showered with rice and good wishes and luck and love. At the end, my mom and dad are waiting.

  “Thank you, Mom,” I whisper as she hugs me, no longer worried about getting makeup on my suit. Dad pulls me into another hug.

  “Well done, son. Have a wonderful honeymoon.”

  They both kiss and hug Ana, and Grace starts crying again.

  Mom! Get it together.

  Taylor, standing by the driver’s door, moves to open the back passenger door. I shake my head, and instead I open it for Ana, who turns suddenly and tosses her wedding bouquet into the waiting crowd. Mia catches it with a loud whoop of joy that can be heard above the whistles and cheers of approval from everyone gathered to say good-bye.

  I help Ana into the Audi, scooping her dress up so it doesn’t catch in the door. Giving everyone a quick wave, I sprint to the other side of the car, where Taylor is holding open my door.

  “Congratulations, sir,” he says warmly.

  “Thank you, Taylor.” I slide in beside my wife.

  Thank God! We’re finally leaving. I thought we’d never get away.

  Taylor eases the Audi down the driveway to the sound of enthusiastic cheers and rice pelting the car. Reaching for Ana’s hand, I draw her knuckles to my lips and kiss each one in turn. “So far so good, Mrs. Grey?”

  “So far so wonderful, Mr. Grey. Where are we going?”