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It was true; we co-parented very well. I’d been stunned to realize we made a great team. Still... it didn’t define anything. He was a good father and I, a good mother, but what were wetogether?He had provenrepeatedlythat, to him, I was neither a slut nor a fuck buddy, but I dared not call us friends.
Friends didnotdo the crazy things we did.
I sighed.
I wanted more. More of him. More ofus.Going days or even hours without seeing him got unbearable. Xander missed him, and so did I. Selfishly, I missed him more. The sad part was that I couldn’t say the same for him. I didn’t know what he wanted.
After everymake-outsession,he’d look me in the eyes and shower me with praise. “Malyksha [little baby girl],”he’d call me.“So perfect,”he’d groan. One time, after he finished inside me, he murmured, “ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina, kotoruyu ya Koga-limbo videl [you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen],”and I had to use an internet translator to know what it meant.
Futile. It didn’t work. Something about not getting the spelling right. And he refused to translate.
With a sigh, I thought of going to the kitchen to bake chocolate cookies as a worthy distraction, when my phone buzzed on the bed. I glanced at the screen. The name displayed made my heart leap. All thoughts of chocolate cookies were gone with the wind. I swiped and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Come outside.” He ordered and I rolled my eyes. “And leave Alex with Sarah.”
Before I could breathe out a single letter, he had hung up.
Gruff and bossy as usual but it didn’t stop the warmth that spread through me at the sound of his voice. It always felt right, like a click—intimate,a private connection—whenever I talked to him over the phone. I couldn’t explain it. Butterflies danced in my stomach as my feet scurried to the closet to grab a change of clothes.
I checked my outfit. Teal spaghetti strap fitted dress, brown ankle strap sandals, and sparkly crystal bracelets on my wrists. One of the gifts from his most recent trip to Los Angeles. I let my hair fall below my shoulders because... well, because he liked it that way, and reached for a jacket.
Then, decided to go without it.
Thinking about his eyes on me set my skin burning already. I liked it. Recently, I craved his attention like a starved prisoner desperate for food.
Turning around, I scooped up a cheery Xander in my arms and waltzed out of the room with a spring in my steps. I dialed Sarah as we walked through the hallway. No answer. I tried again and, still, no answer.
We branched out of the hallway, hopped down the stairs, and entered the foyer when an unfamiliar face walked up to us.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
My brows crinkled. “Afternoon.” I eyed her suspiciously. Since my return to the house, I had never seen her before. “And you are?”
She beamed. Her smile spread through the scattered freckles on her cheeks and reached her dull brown eyes. “Name’s Olivia, ma’am.”
“Olivia...” I repeated, unsure.
“The new housekeeper? I started today.”
“Okay, but...”
I started to say, but my phone vibrated, cutting me short. He was growing impatient. Now, I was nervous. “You know what? Here.” I handed Xander to her. She seemed eager while he was unwilling. But I had to go. “Take care of him, okay? I’m heading out with his dad. He’s had his lunch. Dinner by seven, if we aren’t back before then. Oh, and if you see Sarah, tell her to give me a call.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
I kissed his cheeks. “Be a good boy, baby.” I ruffled his hair, turned around, and shut the door.
I should have been more observant of her shifty eyes and smooth milk and honey accent in broad daylight. But I wasn’t. And soon, I’d learn that every mistake had its consequence.
****
The drive was quiet.
It had been that way since I got into the car thirty minutes ago. I grew nervous; a million bad thoughts ran through my mind. And I didn’t mean the bad,badthoughts. My heart raced. What if things went wrong? I wondered if he was taking me somewhere to break the news that he was tired of me, wanted nothing to do with me, and then drove off and left me standing all alone on the roadside.
To be honest, I wouldn’t put it past him. Alexei Petrov was not a man to underestimate or to think that you had everything under control. No one could control him–least of all me. He was unpredictable. Sprung up surprises whenever and however he wanted.
