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RUSLAN:That is correct, Ms. Carson.
It is extremely hard not to go straight into my happy dance. But a few junior execs are milling around right now and I don’t need people gossiping about me any more than they already are. So I suppress the excited butterflies fluttering around in my stomach and focus on my phone
EMMA:Hm. I’ll think about it.
RUSLAN:Wanna come back in here so I can help you think about it?
EMMA:You are an animal!
RUSLAN:Don’t you forget it.
EMMA:Fine. I’ll go.
RUSLAN:That’s what I thought.
Look at us, flirting and everything. Like a normal couple. It’s enough to make me giddy. These last couple of weeks have me in a constant good mood. So good that I can’t help thinking the same question that inevitably crops up whenever life happens to look this beautiful for any stretch of time.
When will the other shoe drop?
58
EMMA
“What about Russy?”
I hide my snort of laughter behind a cough when Ruslan shoots me a glare. Then he turns his attention back to the two little goobers who have been heckling him for an endless, relentless thirty minutes.
“No.”
“Can I call you Ru-Ru?”
He looks pained. “Not if you want me to respond.”
Josh is setting the table with a huge smile on his face. It’s so great to see him like this. Sometimes, I feel like the only time I see that smile is when Ruslan’s around.
And he has beenaroundrecently.
At least two nights a week, he drives me home and entertains the kids while I get dinner ready. Sometimes, he helps them build pillow forts in the girls’ room; other times, the evenings are devoted to Lego castles on the living room carpet. And then there are the nights, like tonight, when everyone is congregated around the kitchen table, talking over one another about nothing at all.
It’s true that I’m not his girlfriend and he’s not my boyfriend.
It’s true that we have a legally-binding contract that goes into explicit, excruciating detail about every facet of our relationship.
It’s true that he’s offering me money in exchange for whatever he expects of me.
It’s also true that he’s never said he loves me and he probably never will.
But the thing is, he’samazingwith my kids. He’s taken to them and they’ve taken to him in a way I would never have thought possible. I genuinely believe he cares about me. Enough to want to take care of my debt and my legal expenses and all the little stresses of my day-to-day life.
He’s got a wall up around his heart, but hetoldme why. And I’m willing to bet that opening up to anyone isn’t something that Ruslan Oryolov does very often.
Most importantly, we are monogamous.
So in the end, why would I get hung up over a title? Why would I care about not being enough when he’s paid me the unique compliment of wanting me to be the mother of his child? Sure, it’s not traditional.
But hey—traditional is boring, right?
Reagan descends into violent giggles as Ruslan grabs her, hoists her onto his lap, and starts tickling her on the sides of her belly. I watch them for a few minutes, feeling a sense of calm that surges through me whenever the five of us are together.
