Resonance of Stars (Greenstone Security #5) - Anne Malcom Page 0,31

big so she hadn’t heard him. He’d stopped trying to figure out his grandma and just appreciated all the things about her that no one could explain. Although, there wasn’t much about her anyone could explain. Her kooky, weird personality was something her straight-laced Baptist parents had puzzled over for years, but hadn’t ever tried to change her.

Neither had his grandfather, who’d adored his “Kooky.” And when he’d died far too early, dimming a little light in her eyes, she never lost herself. That was his grandmother, the strongest person he knew. Duke had encountered many hard-asses in his life, brave, cruel, and scarred men who’d done things that most people would run from. But none of them were as strong as his eighty-year-old grandmother.

“Your woman is out riding with your brother and father. They’ve got some cattle to check on out at the edge of the ranch,” she said.

He almost spit his coffee out upon that. Trying not to, he’d damn near choked on it and spent the next minute coughing.

His grandmother watched him with amusement. She’d no doubt timed that little piece of news for this precise reason.

“She’s out riding?” Duke repeated, trying to envision that.

She nodded. “Surprised me too, for about a minute. But then I remembered that Western where she played some cowgirl criminal. Great flick by the way. Everyone said she’d used a double, but to my eyes, old as they are, I thought she could ride, had that natural way about her. And, as usual, I was right. She lit up like a Christmas tree when they offered it.” She took another sip of her—most likely Irish—coffee. “Don’t think either of them expected her to say yes, of course. They were just bein’ polite. And I rather enjoyed them trying to swallow their tongues when she saddled her horse and didn’t need help, certainly didn’t ask for it. Nothing like she seems, that one.”

“No, she isn’t,” Duke said, half to himself. He was pissed that he’d slept in and had missed out on seeing that.

He also hated the way his grandmother spoke. She accepted everyone for who they were—didn’t have a nasty bone in her body—but her respect didn’t come easy. Duke had dreaded the day when he’d bring a woman home to his family. His parents were kind, easygoing, and just ready for him to settle down. They’d accept damn near anyone as long as she wasn’t wanted for murder or hated animals.

But his grandmother. He knew it would kill him if she didn’t give her blessing. And that was with a real woman. His real woman. He sure as fuck had been dreading seeing his grandmother’s reaction to bringing home the surly, rude movie star for whom he was using everything he had to pretend he could love.

But it didn’t come. That expertly hid disappointment he’d been expecting, he’d been bracing for. His grandmother was wearing it, right on her face. She liked Anastasia. More importantly, she respected her.

It made him happy—then pissed him right off. Because Anastasia wasn’t his. And he’d never be able to measure up to this, once he finally did bring someone home.

Something in his chest pricked at the thought of that, at another woman meeting his family, telling some story of how they met. It didn’t feel right. No one would be able to replicate the night they’d had last night.

“Me and Anastasia,” he said, looking up. “It’s not...” he trailed off. He couldn’t tell his grandmother, whom he’d never lied to in his life, that this was all a sham. Mostly because it would put her in danger, but also because he couldn’t do that to her. “It’s not all what it seems,” he finished.

His grandmother grinned. “Of course not. I’d be disappointed if it was.”

“Well, hello cowboy,” I said, making sure to sound sarcastic and cruel. It took effort, considering he wore the shit out of that cowboy hat.

Most of the men at the ranch did.

Obviously, Duke’s father and brother had the same macho-men genes, so they looked the part in theirs. And the ranch hands, the same. They only had a handful, which I understood was unusual for a ranch this size. But what the fuck did I know?

Mostly they were older, grisly, graying and handsome as all hell. There was one young boy, barely able to shave and unable to put his eyes back into his head at seeing me. That was, until Tanner smacked him over the head and murmured something in