Page 123 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“Those are your options.”

She considers this. “What if I want to go shopping?”

“Then we’ll go shopping.”

“What if I want to learn how to shoot a gun?”

I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. “What?”

“You heard me. I want to learn how to shoot a gun.”

I set my fork down. “Why?”

“I’m tired of being helpless, and I’m tired of relying on other people to protect me.” She meets my eyes. “It would be good to be able to protect myself.”

I consider this. On the one hand, the idea of Vera with a gun is terrifying. On the other, she’s right. She’s been relying on others for too long.

“Okay,” I say finally. “We’ll start you on something small. A .22, maybe. Then you can work your way up.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re not going to argue?”

“Should I?”

“I expected you to.” She shrugs and stabs a piece of bacon with her fork.

“I’m trying something new.”

Her brow lifts. “Being reasonable?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m a demanding teacher.”

She smiles. “I’m counting on it.”

We finish our breakfast in comfortable silence. When we’re done, I take our plates to the sink and start washing them. Vera leans against the counter, watching me.

“You know,” she says, “this is the first time we’ve ever done this.”

“Done what?”

“Eaten breakfast together like a normal couple.”

I turn off the water and reach for a towel. “Is that what we are now, a normal couple?”

“I don’t know.” She pushes off the counter and comes to stand in front of me. “Are we?”

I dry my hands, then catch her by the waist and pull her close.

I lean down and capture her lips. She tastes of sweetened coffee and salt, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.

She kisses me back, her lips soft and yielding. I deepen the kiss, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opens for me with a soft sigh. I explore her mouth slowly, learning her all over again.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing harder. She looks at me like she isn’t nearly finished.

“Bedroom,” I say. It’s not a question.