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“Buddy, you need to work on your seasoning skills,” I said, laughing as I stared down at the single seasoned chicken breast, full of all the salt and herbs that were meant to be scattered on all of them.
Sean shrugged. “I like plain chicken.”
“No, you don’t,” I reminded him.
“Chicken nuggets aren’t seasoned,” he pushed back.
I knew better than to argue with the kid, so I took a deep breath and nodded. “If you say so.”
“I know so.”
I narrowed my eyes down at him, but he didn’t notice as he continued mixing the broccoli over the stove. The kid had my argumentative nature and his dad’s tendency to never back down from confrontation. I wanted to be frustrated by it, but I couldn’t bring myself to be anything but happy as I looked at him. I’d thought more and more about our place here over the past few days, and I realized that it felt almost impeccablyright.
I liked being here with Viktor, and I liked it for some of the same reasons that I’d hated being with my own father.
Viktor was so careful to keep any weapons out of sight, and though I knew he nearly always carried one concealed, I didn’t necessarily mind it. He may have been part of the mob life, but he didn’t bring his work into Sean’s life. In Sean’s eyes, Viktor had a normal nine-to-five job, and that’s what I wanted Sean to see in a father.
This might work, after all.
That thought made me nearly giddy with excitement. Sean having a father—me being able to have Viktor in my life—felt too good to be true, but it wasn’t. It was possible, and it seemed to be something we both wanted.
“I think the broccoli is done,” Sean said, moving it off the heat and turning off the gas stove. I bounded over and found that the broccoli had been cooked too long, but I didn’t say anything as I ran my hands through his hair and told him that he’d done a good job.
He moved toward the chicken and gave me a skeptical look. “Did you just look at it while I cooked the vegetable?”
I wanted to laugh at his sarcasm. “I’m putting it in the oven now.”
I laid out all the meat on a cookie sheet and covered all the bare sections with Sean’s chosen seasonings. He bounced around the counter excitedly as I slid it into the oven and started the timer.
When Sean got quiet for a moment, I looked in his direction and found his brows furrowed. “What are you thinking about?” I asked him.
“I like that you don’t work at the bar anymore,” he told me. “We get to make dinner together. The babysitter never let me help when you were working.”
My heart melted as I considered the other reason, I wanted to be a teacher. I could always be working the same hours as him, and when we went home together, we could do the things both of us enjoyed. Going to work an hour after he got home from school was always my least favorite part of bartending.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back,” I told him. “So, you’ll have me here for a while.”
I didn’t think I had many options for the foreseeable future—not when my face was plastered all over the crime scene in New York, and if the wrong person saw me in public, I could easily catch a bullet.
Would life ever get back to normal?
Viktor walked through the kitchen, cutting my thoughts off as he looked between Sean, me, and the mess that we’d left across his kitchen. I could see the stress in the tension on his shoulders, and I grimaced, hoping the mess wasn’t causing him any unnecessary turmoil.
“We’re going to clean this up,” I promised.
“We have a housekeeper for a reason,” he scolded, looking at the mess. “And I would rather we do something this evening.”
Sean froze, turning to Viktor with wide eyes. “Me, too?”
“Yes, but you need to wear something a bit warmer.”
Sean didn’t hesitate. He bounded through the room and toward the stairs, rushing toward where I kept his minimal wardrobe. I didn’t even want to consider what outfit he’d put together for himself without my help.
“What are you planning?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and giving him a suspicious glance.
“It’s been a long week. It’s been an even longer month, and we all deserve to get our minds off of it.”
“I just made dinner, you know,” I reminded him. “And it won’t be as good cold.”
