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He leaned in, looming close until our mouths barely brushed. Our kiss was over before the full weight settled, and I tilted forward, chasing more.

“Tonight,” he murmured.

The promise in his eyes sent a whole-body shiver rippling from my neck to my toes, leaving an aching yearning in its place.

It was foolish to level up things with Drew when Owen lurked in the shadows like a bad imitation of a vampire, sucking the joy out of my new life. Banishing the ghosts of relationships past meant devising a plan. I’d tried running. Tried hiding. Those strategies were wise when I was alone. But now? The same things I feared losing were my greatest strengths. My family would realize I had resources. Friends. Drew. I wasn’t easy pickings anymore.

I’d grown stronger since I cut ties with my family. Striking out on my own, I’d become surer of myself, my worth. Choosing independence and making a new life were hard, but I’d done it.

I had my studio. A life I was proud of. There was no going back under my family’s thumb. I wouldn’t jeopardize my future for my past. But part of truly being Anya Rose meant owning Anne-Marie, at least to those closest to me. Bolstered by my decision, I dashed off a text message to Vi before my first class.

Anya: I’d like to host a dinner party tomorrow. That okay with you?

Maybe it was an odd choice, but spending one last night laughing with my friends before laying my past bare would giveme a memory to hold on to if my lies were too much for them to forgive.

Chapter 21 – Drew

Ihung around the corner until I spotted Merita Rodriguez opening the door to Anya’s studio. Once Anya was safe, I walked back to the Anchor, unlocking my apartment and grabbing a quick shower before I picked my phone off the charger and drove to the farm.

Scraping out one of the salt houses took my entire morning. A quick protein bar fueled me through my afternoon. I kept one eye on the clock, unwilling to miss my window to go pick up Anya.

Gran ambled into my office ten minutes before I was due to leave. She was dressed for distress in an eye-searing shade of magenta. Today she’d styled her short pink hair in a mohawk. The gravity-defying style suited her.

“Hey, Gran. How’s it going?” I asked absently, trying not to lose my place.

“I hear you’re finally taking my advice.” Her tone was smug, and no doubt her expression matched.

“What advice is that?” I was unwilling to pull my gaze off the invoice matching I needed to finish before I could leave.

“Make bad choices,” she said with relish.

“I think my choices areexcellent, thank you very much. And I’m not sure your advice is my wisest course of action. I still remember the sheriff showing up last month after one too many complaints from Mr. Reyes.”

Gran cackled. “But he couldn’t find my shotgun, could he?”

“Just because he didn’t search the house doesn’t mean everyone doesn’t know it was you, shooting out Mr. Reyes’s yard lights.”

“Those crude boobie lights were butt-ugly. Who puts well-endowed statues with LEDs for breasts on their front lawn? I was doing community service, putting his lawn porn out of its misery.”

Sure, she said thatnow. The day he’d placed them out front of his farm, Zach and I had made bets on whether Gran would buy her own. Maybe not half-lit ladies, but it probably didn’t take much of a web search to find a well-hung male statue with a light saber to ward off the dark side of good taste.

I was half-convinced Mr. Reyes had put the yard decorations up just to provoke my grandmother. The old man was a cantankerous son of a bitch who was too stubborn to die, even after two heart attacks. Just her type.

Zach’s money had been on waking up to vulgar displays on the front lawn for months. It’d be just like Gran to steal the ladies she disdained and use them in her own pornographic version of a nativity scene. Honestly, so long as it wasn’t a lewd display of Mr. Reyes humping Gran in the front lawn, I didn’t care.

“Have you warned your new lady-friend that I’m an excellent shot?”

I narrowed my eyes. Gran smiled angelically. Too bad her personality and decades of personal experience ruined the effect.“I thought Dad took your shotgun away after the incident with the sheriff?”

She leaned across my desk, patting my cheek gently with one papery palm, her serene expression at odds with her bright pink hair.

“Don’t you worry, child. Call me if you need backup. Gran’s always got your back.”

Rolling my eyes would be disrespectful. But mouthing off felt just right.

“Is it having my back when you eject me from the house I’ve lived in for more than thirty years?” I groused, unable to keep the sarcastic edge from my tone.

“That was for your own good,” she snapped back. “You’ve been stuck, Andrew Fenwick. Too comfortable living out here on the edge of the goings-on, never joining in. All the sweet young things are in town. You need to be where the action is if you’re ever going to get any. Not living out here with us old farts.”