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“Frank? I never figured you for a Sinatra fan,” she says, cocking her head and giving me a curious look, as the rich tones of “Witchcraft” fill the room.
“Eclectic taste, Miss Steele.” I step toward her until I’m standing right in front of her. Will she crack? I’m searching for an answer in her glittering blue eyes.
Ask me for your panties, baby.
I caress her cheek with my fingertips. She leans her face into my touch—and I’m completely seduced—by her sweet gesture, by her teasing expression, and by the music. I want her in my arms.
“Dance with me,” I whisper, as I remove the remote from my pocket and turn up the volume until Frank’s crooning surrounds us. She gives me her hand. I circle her waist and pull her beautiful body against mine, and we start a slow, simple fox-trot. She grasps my shoulder, but I’m prepared for her touch, and together we whirl across the floor, her radiant face lighting up the room…and me. She falls into step with my lead, and when the song comes to an end, she’s giddy and breathless.
And so am I.
“There’s no nicer witch than you.” I plant a chaste kiss on her lips. “Well, that’s brought some color to your cheeks. Thank you for the dance. Shall we go and meet my parents?”
“You’re welcome, and yes, I can’t wait to meet them,” she replies, looking flushed and lovely.
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Oh yes,” she says with easy confidence.
“Are you sure?”
She nods, her lips carved in a smirk.
God, she has guts.
I grin. “Okay.” I can’t hide my delight. “If that’s the way you want to play it, Miss Steele.” I grab my jacket and we head to the elevator.
She never fails to surprise, impress, and disarm me. Now I will have to sit through dinner with my parents, knowing my girl is not wearing any underwear. In fact, I’m traveling down in this elevator right now, knowing she’s naked beneath her skirt.
She’s turned the tables on you, Grey.
SHE’S QUIET AS TAYLOR drives us north on I-5. I catch a glimpse of Union Lake; the moon disappears behind a cloud, and the water darkens, like my mood. Why am I taking her to see my parents? If they meet her, they’ll have certain expectations. And so will Ana. And I’m not sure if the relationship I want with Ana will live up to those expectations. And to make matters worse, I put all this in motion when I insisted she meet Grace. I’m the only one to blame. Me, and the fact that Elliot is fucking her roommate.
Who am I kidding? If I didn’t want her to meet my folks, she wouldn’t be here. I just wish I wasn’t so anxious about it.
Yeah. That’s the problem.
“Where did you learn to dance?” she asks, interrupting my chain of thoughts.
Oh, Ana. She’s not going to want me to go there.
“Christian, hold me. There. Properly. Right. One step. Two. Good. Keep in time to the music. Sinatra is perfect for the fox-trot.” Elena is in her element.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Do you really want to know?” I answer.
“Yes,” she replies, but her tone says otherwise.
You asked. I sigh in the darkness beside her. “Mrs. Robinson was fond of dancing.”
“She must have been a good teacher.” Her whisper is tinged with regret and reluctant admiration.
“She was.”
“That’s right. Again. One. Two. Three. Four. Baby, you’ve got this.”
Elena and I glide across her basement.
“Again.” She laughs, her head thrown back, and she looks like a woman half her age.
Ana nods and studies the landscape, no doubt concocting some theory about Elena. Or maybe she’s thinking about meeting my parents. I wish I knew. Perhaps she’s nervous. Like me. I’ve never taken a girl home.
When Ana starts fidgeting I sense something is worrying her. Is she concerned about what we did today?
“Don’t,” I say, my voice softer than I intend.
She turns to look at me, her expression unreadable in the dark. “Don’t what?”
“Overthink things, Anastasia.” Whatever you’re thinking about. I reach over, take her hand, and kiss her knuckles. “I had a wonderful afternoon. Thank you.”
I get a brief flash of white teeth and a timid smile.
“Why did you use a cable tie?” she asks.
Questions about this afternoon; this is good. “It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s something different for you to feel and experience. I know they’re quite brutal, and I do like that in a restraining device.” My voice is dry as I try to inject a little humor back into our conversation. “Very effective at keeping you in your place.”
Her eyes dart toward Taylor in the front seat.
Sweetheart, don’t worry about Taylor. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he’s done this for four years.
“All part of my world, Anastasia.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze before I release it. Ana returns to staring out of the window; we’re surrounded by water as we cross Lake Washington on the 520 bridge, my favorite part of this journey. She draws up her feet and, curled on the seat, coils her arms around her legs.
Something is up.
When she glances at me, I ask, “Penny for your thoughts?”
She sighs.
Shit. “That bad, huh?”
“I wish I knew what you were thinking,” she says.
I smirk, relieved to hear this, and glad she doesn’t know what’s really on my mind.
“Ditto, baby,” I reply.