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He was absolutely beautiful. He looked younger than Tristan. He looked a bit younger than Kyla. He was very fit and had a dark crewcut and olive skin with eyes that were somewhere between silver and amber. They were luminescent. He was tall and wore dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. His feet were bare. He looked casual, at home.
He smiled at Kyla, one dimple on display on the left side of his smile, and then his gaze was back on Tristan. He was on the other side of the long wooden table. He stopped when his thighs were against the table. He reached his hand out in greeting toward Tristan.
Tristan waited a beat and then accepted the handshake.
Something electric passed between the two men and Kyla felt it in her chest. It was an odd sensation. She wondered what it felt like to Tristan.
“I’m no threat to either of you. Please relax.” Sergey said and he sat down at the table on the other side.
“Shit!” Sasha cried out as she jumped back. The bubbling pot was spitting at her and it looked like there were far too many noodles in the medium-sized pot.
“Excuse me, I need to drain this,” she said.
Kyla went to move but Tristan hadn’t yet let go of her.
“Babe,” she whispered and tried to scoot them away from the sink. They got about three feet from it when Sasha, the pot in both hands, was dumping the pot’s contents into the sink, but then she cussed again.
“Damnit!”
Kyla glanced over and saw that there was no colander in the sink. Sasha had poured a big pot filled with rice noodles into the sink. Not that they’d be edible. They were a large congealed mass.
“I thought I put that strainer in there.” Sasha muttered.
“You don’t travel with a pet and you’re royal,” Tristan observed quietly, ignoring Sasha muttering about having thought she’d put a colander in the sink.
“No. I’m a widower,” Sergey answered, “No one knows this and usually I keep a decoy with me but knew it’d be unnecessary here.”
“Let’s just make some more,” Sasha mumbled, “Oh damn. I’m out. I know! I have some rice.”
Kyla tried to shift out of Tristan’s hold to head over and shut the stove off but he grabbed her and pinned her behind him tightly.
“Could you turn that off?” Kyla asked Sam. The stove was red hot and Sasha wasn’t paying any mind to it as she had her head in her pantry, looking for rice. The veggies were overcooked. The chicken was burning.
“You’re not---” Tristan started but didn’t finish.
“No. I’m not affected by her. Not to worry. No one is. Thanks to you binding her to you.”
“What?” Tristan asked.
“I take it you haven’t been in touch with anyone in the know.”
“No.”
“Then sit. I’ll elaborate.”
“I’ll just help Sasha,” Kyla said to his back.
“No. Sit,” Tristan ordered and sat and pulled Kyla onto his lap. His arm went around her belly.
She was a little bit frazzled at this but said nothing. She knew it was proprietary as well as protective but Sasha was in chaos with the food and Kyla just wanted to help get things under control. It wasn’t a priority to Tristan right now. She wanted the news, too, but didn’t want the kitchen to go up in flames in the middle of their conversation and it seemed like it was highly possible that Sasha could burn the place down. The place felt chaotic.
Sam stepped over to aid his sister. Tristan was tense. All this activity behind them and a potential threat in front of them and information coming out that was needed made him tweaked and he would very likely stay that way.
Tristan stiffened as Sam placed Kyla’s wineglass on the table beside her. Then Sam put a stack of placemats and plates on the table and moved to help his sister some more.
She felt Tristan in a big way; he was very agitated with all the movement.
“Could everyone just sit fucking down?” Tristan snapped.
Everything went super quiet. You’d hear a pin drop.
“How about we give them two secs to get the food on the table, babe?” Kyla suggested softly, her hand on Tristan’s cheek.
She could feel his jaw muscles working against the palm of her hand. Sergey’s eyes were on her. Tristan’s fingers dug into her hip a little but he waited. She knew that he was very frustrated. An eternity later, (just a minute or two, really), she heard beeping and shuffling behind them.
Kyla sipped her wine and put her free hand on Tristan’s, which was on her hip. She stroked his fingers soothingly and felt him relax marginally.
Sergey was watching Sasha and Sam with a look of amusement on his face.
A gigantic steaming bowl of the mixture of meat and vegetables was placed in the middle of the table. A bunch of chopsticks were then plopped down, then the microwave beeped and a moment later two packets of instant microwaveable rice were dumped onto the big bowl of chicken and veggies.
