Resonance of Stars (Greenstone Security #5) - Anne Malcom Page 0,76

“No, you need to promise not to get stabbed.” The thought of Duke bleeding, Duke in a hospital bed, Duke not existing on this earth...it chilled my bones.

There was a long pause. He was most likely calculating his odds of getting stabbed in the future before agreeing to the promise. He wouldn’t make it if he didn’t think he could keep it.

“I promise, baby.” He laid his lips on mine, sealing the promise. “Now come back to fuckin’ bed.”

I frowned at him. “I’m going, but be sure to remember that me obeying an order from you is not the norm.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I know that, babe.” His hand trailed down the column of my neck and slipped under the silk of my nightie, caressing my breast. “But I’ll make it worth your while.”

And he did.

He totally fucking did.

I found Harriet in the kitchen sipping coffee. She grinned at me knowingly. “You’re late this morning.”

I couldn’t help but smile back. Usually I had more control over such expressions—since a woman knew a misplaced smile could send the wrong message to the wrong man and at best, end in unwanted attention and at worst, an everlasting trauma.

But this morning was different. I woke up with Duke’s mouth on my neck, his hands working between my legs. I was barely awake before my first orgasm tore through me. I was definitely more aware with the second.

We lingered in bed, which meant Duke had to go straight out to the barn to get his horse and help with his ranch duties.

Before he’d left, he’d landed a hot and soul-shattering kiss on my already swollen lips, so I’d wandered to the homestead in a trance. Everything looked different, smelled different. It was like I hadn’t been seeing colors before. Now everything was bright, vibrant.

Hence the smile.

I took the coffee Harriet offered.

“I’m guessing I have you to thank for last night,” I said.

She sipped her coffee. “Oh, no. That smile on your face is all thanks to my grandson.”

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. “Thank you.” The two words were filled with so much else. Of course she didn’t know that we weren’t together before this. She didn’t realize what last night really was. Or maybe she did. There was a glint to her eyes, a knowing that made me think Harriet saw a lot more than she let on.

“What I’ve learned in my years is that men aren’t good at romance,” she said. “Not because they don’t want to be, but because they’re men. What I learned in almost forty years of marriage to a man I loved is that men really are wired differently than us. Now, I’m a feminist, always have been. I didn’t want to admit that bullshit. I was convinced men were just lazy, entitled. Marriage teaches you differently.” She looked out the window, sadness edged her gaze. I’d known that Duke’s grandfather had passed. Anna had mentioned it cooking one night, in passing, glossing over the wound that so obviously hadn’t healed right.

Harriet wore multiple gold rings on her fingers—they switched out daily because that woman liked to accessorize—but there was a simple diamond on her left hand that never moved.

“We had a love that lasted,” Harriet continued. “Not because it was special or different to anyone else’s, but because we worked at it, because I understood that my husband loved me but he didn’t always know how to show it. It might be that Montana men are bred to be tough so being soft is a little harder. But I think it’s men in general. My Duke’s a romantic at heart underneath all of his macho, tough-guy crap. Just needed a little push in the right direction.” She winked at me.

“How did he die? Your husband?” I asked the question before I understood how invasive and rude it was.

Harriet didn’t look to be offended, thankfully. “Ah, I’d like to say my Hugo—yes, Harriet and Hugo—went out guns blazing in a manner befitting the man he was, but life doesn’t work out that way. Death is rarely spectacular or the crescendo we expect it to be. He had a heart attack.” Harriet went back to looking out the window. There was a strength and resignation in her voice; it had been years, after all. But the look in her eyes told me she was looking at it like it was yesterday. Or today.

“He was out in the fields repairing fences. Fell down, didn’t get back up. I’m not gonna say