n for breakfast. He, Mia, and Kate are sitting at the breakfast bar while
Mrs. Bentley cooks waffles. Christian is nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning, Mrs. Grey.” Mrs. Bentley smiles. “What would you like for
breakfast?”
“Good Morning. Whatever’s going, thank you. Where’s Christian?”
“Outside.” Kate gestures with her head toward the backyard. I wander over to
the window that looks out onto the yard and the mountains beyond. It’s a
clear, powder-blue summer day, and my beautiful husband is about twenty
feet away in deep discussion with some guy.
“That’s Mr. Bentley he’s talking to,” calls Mia from the breakfast bar. I turn to
look at her, distracted by her sulky tone. She looks venomously at Ethan. Oh
dear. I wonder once more what’s going on between them. Frowning I turn my
attention back to my husband and Mr. Bentley.
Mrs. Bentley’s husband is fair-haired, dark eyed and wiry, dressed in work
pants and an Aspen Fire Department T-shirt. Christian is dressed in his
black jeans and T-shirt. As the two men amble across the lawn toward the
house lost in their conversation, Christian casually bends to pick up what
looks like a bamboo cane that must ha一ve been blown over or discarded in
the flowerbed. Pausing, Christian absentmindedly holds out the cane at
arm’s length as if weighing it carefully and swipes it through the air, just once.
Oh . . .
Mr. Bentley appears to see nothing odd in his beha一vior. They continue their
discussion, nearer the house this time, then pause once more, and Christian
repeats the gesture. The tip of the cane hits the ground. Glancing up,
Christian sees me standing at the window. Suddenly I feel as if I’m spying on
him. He blinks. I give him an embarrassed wa一ve then turn and walk back to
the breakfast bar.
“What were you doing?” asks Kate.
“Just watching Christian.”
“You ha一ve got it bad.” She snorts.
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E L JAMES
“And you don’t, oh soon-to-be sister-in-law?” I reply, grinning at her and trying
to bury the disquieting visual of Christi
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