Mother was pleased to hear that Vasily had left home of his own free will, but he wondered once again who his family was that his mother was well enough acquainted with the chancellor that she was able to request favours.
“Well, it was a lucky day for me when he hired you.” Mother patted Vasily’s curled fingers once again. He was suddenly too aware of the warmth of Vasily’s hand, the touch making his skin tingle.
Vasily ducked his head. “I think I was the lucky one.”
Rosie arrived with their meals, and Vasily let out a moan of pleasure that was downright filthy as he bit into his first mouthful of cod and sauce. The sound caused heat to race through Mother, and his cock twitched in a way that brought back memories of the other night when he’d taken his pleasure. It was unexpected enough that it had him choking on his cider.
Vasily was out of his chair in seconds, patting him firmly on the back until Mother drew in a harsh breath. He ran his palms up and down Mother’s spine in a soothing motion, and the touch of those warm, strong hands didn’t do anything to diminish the heat coursing through Mother.
Even after Vasily took his hand away and sat back down, Mother could still feel the ghost of his touch like a brand on his skin, demanding Mother’s attention—which was sheer foolishness. Vasily had been making sure he didn’t choke, that was all. He didn’t mean anything by it. And even if he had, Mother wasn’t interested in people that way.
Or rather, he hadn’t been. But maybe that had changed.
He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling, and when he opened them, Vasily was watching him, his gaze filled with concern. “Mother?”
“I’m fine. Just catching my breath,” he said, and shoved a forkful of cod into his mouth to prove just how fine he was while he came to grips with the fact that he wasdefinitelyattracted to someone.
No, not just someone.
Vasily.
Vasily, who was currently drinking his cider and had his head tipped back, exposing the long line of his throat in a way that was most distracting. Mother ducked his head and ate his meal, but he could have been eating boiled seaweed for all the attention he paid it.
While he chewed, he reminded himself that Vasily was in his employ and was more than ten years Mother’s junior, and he was as green as the algae that grew on the rocks in the harbour. There was no way anything could happen between them.
And anyway, it was a moot point because Vasily clearly wasn’t interested. He was busy trying to seduceJeremy.
A lump settled in Mother’s gut and he pushed his plate away, no longer hungry.
Vasily’s forehead creased. “Is there something wrong with the cod?”
“Just tired,” Mother lied, stretching his arms over his head in a fake yawn. Then, because Vasily was still watching him closely, he added, “Don’t forget, I’m forty-two.”
Vasily laughed, his entire face lighting up, and he was so pretty it made Mother’s chest ache. But he forced a smile and laughed along with him, and Vasily didn’t ask again if something was wrong, so Mother took it as a win.
When they left the café, Vasily hesitated at the end of the cobbled street. “Do you mind if we walk by the water for a bit? I know it’s chilly, but I do love breathing in the salt. It’s calming.”
Mother was just about to say that he didn’t mind at all when Vasily’s eyes widened. “Oh gods. You probably don’t want to go anywhere near the water, after your”—he swallowed—“your brother. Forget I said anything.”
Mother’s heart flip-flopped weirdly at Vasily’s show of concern, and he was quick to reassure him. “Vasily,” he said quietly, getting his attention. “If I didn’t like the ocean, why would I come down to the docks for supper? I love it, lad. I’ve lived by the water my whole life, and you’re right. It soothes the soul.” He nodded at the nearby path, the one that didn’t lead to the walled-in harbour but instead split off and went down to the beach. “Looks like the tide’s out, so it should be nice for a walk.”
Vasily’s expression went from stricken to relieved in a heartbeat, and when Mother started walking down the path, Vasily was quick to follow, his boots crunching against the stones. They walked side by side down the path, which led them away from the fish markets and towards a sheltered bay with a long stretch of sandy shore.
Mother had spent many an hour paddling in the cool ocean water as a boy when the heat of summer had hit, and he smiled fondly at the memory of his mum, her skirts hitched up to her knees, holding his hand as he jumped over tiny waves and laughing when he fell on his arse even as she fished him out.
“What has you smiling?” Vasily asked.
“When I was a boy, Dad would be off on the boat, and Mum would bring us down to cool off of an afternoon. We always promised we wouldn’t go past our knees, but somehow we always looked like drowned rats by the time she took us home. She never seemed to mind, though. It was probably easier than getting us to have a wash, now I think about it.”
“Is she…” Vasily hesitated. “Is she still with you?”
“My mum? Aye, she’s hale and hearty,” Mother said as they walked at a leisurely pace along the beach, the moonlight reflecting off the water. “Dad, too. He’s given up fishing, says he’s too old for the early mornings, but he still takes the boat out. I think he’d be lost if he had to stay on dry land.”
“I’ve never been on a boat. Not a real one, anyway. Only a rowboat once, in the little lake at the—at home.” Vasily sounded wistful.
Mother wasn’t sure why, but he found himself saying, “I could take you out if you wanted?”
Vasily turned to him, face alight with excitement. “Really?”
