Page 229 of Renegade
“Any success in Boston?” Dakota asked.
“Nothing.” Agitation flowed through him, but he tamped it down.
Not today. Today is F for Fun.
“I’m spendin’ the next two weeks flying with the Navy,” Greystone explained.
“We don’t like sharing you,” Dakota said, “but working with you part-time is better than not at all. I’ve got a mission I want to run by you. You’re my first choice.”
“No more shop talk, honey.” Providence tugged her husband away. “You can chase Greystone down in two weeks.”
Dakota extended his hand, Greystone shook it. “My wife is right.”
As Dakota and Providence made their way toward the pews, Greystone had every confidence Dakota would corner him at the reception to talk shop. This band of brothers lived and breathed the missions, loved hunting down the monsters.
Greystone did too.
And he loved that he had a pack to run with. Reminded him of his SEAL days when they moved as a cohesive and highly-efficient unit.
He found his way to the salon, made his way over to his brothers. Today was a good day. A day to celebrate. He washome, he was back with his family, and he was engaged to the love of his life.
Life is good. Damn good.
One of the male assistants hurried over. “Mr. Santini, are you ready to escort your grandmother?”
“Absolutely.”
He led Greystone out of the salon and over to the bridesmaid’s salon.
Knock-knock.
Someone opened the door. “Is it time?” the woman asked, her gaze jumping from the male assistant to Greystone. Her cheeks flamed red, and she shot him a grin. “Hello, handsome.”
“Denise,” said the assistant, “Mr. Santini is ready to walk his grandmother down the aisle.”
She stared at Greystone. “Which Santini are you?”
“The evil one,” Greystone said.
“Ohgod,” she murmured. “I’ll get her.” She shut the door.
Seconds later, Elsa exited, wearing a full-length black dress.
“You look beautiful, G-ma.”
“Simone’s team fussed over my makeup and hair,” Elsa said with a smile. “Simone said I look veryzhuzhy.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means.”
Laughing with his beloved grandmother felt so damn good.
To Greystone’s surprise, the female assistant rushed out, shut the salon door behind her. “I can walk them to their seats.” She eyed Greystone. “I’m Denise, hi.”
“No, Denise, you’re covering the salon,” said the male assistant. “I’ll take them.”
Greystone offered his arm to his grandmother. “Ciao, Elsa. È un onore accompagnarti. It’s an honor to escort you.”
Her face erupted in a smile. “L'onore è mio, nipote. The honor is mine, grandson.”
“Wow, you’re sexy,” Denise said. “We’ll talk soon.”
