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 again 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?”
“Sea-Tac.”
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