Ivan approached, waiting his turn to wash his hands. “You don’t have to slave away in the kitchen. You’re not a maid.”
I flashed him a smile. “Thank you for that. But I cook because it’s a newly acquired skill that took years to master. It’s how I show the people around me that I love them.”
Ivan stilled. “Oh.”
“Can I make you some eggs? Maybe on a sandwich with cheese? Or just on toast?” I offered, giving him a secret, soft grin. The smile that was only for this man. The one who made my heart beat faster and my body come alive.
It was rare that he was here during the day. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was out working on some project. The thought of him joining us for lunch, even though we were almost finished, was nice.
“Cheese-egg sandwich sounds nice,” Ivan said quietly. And then he caught my hands. “Thank you for cooking for me.”
The phrase was right there, on the tip of my tongue. Three little words, begging to be spoken. But instead of saying them, I let my actions speak for me.
“Of course, one sandwich coming right up!” I pulled away from his touch and began to gather the ingredients.
“Poppy, if you don’t mind—” Rayko cleared his throat, voice gruff. “If it’s not too much trouble, I mean.”
I chuckled. “I’m already making you one, so sit down and have some coffee.”
Brady rose in his seat, balancing on his knees, as he turned the empty plate to me. Mouth full of eggs, he knew better than to talk.
“Yes, alright,” I responded to his unspoken request. “Ivan, he can have a slice of the pastry.”
Both cast iron skillets were still warm. I cracked six eggs into one, while in the other, I toasted thin slices of ham. The moment the ham curled at the edges, I removed it and placed four slices of sourdough, slathered in avocado mayo, down in that pan. One slice of cheese went on each, and then the lid covered them to capture the heat. In less than three minutes, I plucked the bread from the pan, layered the sandwiches without breaking the runny yokes, and presented the creations.
Five years ago, the toast would have been burnt, the eggs green and only fit for the dogs, and cheese would have scorched the cast iron, making a freaking mess to clean.
I’d come so far.
“I have a solution,” I announced as I sat back in my seat.
Rayko shot me a curious glance before busying himself with eating. Brady shoved the last corner of pastry in his maw and took off to resume building the Lego set in the living room.
“Wash your hands,” Ivan called after him.
The little hellion rerouted to the bathroom.
I wanted to hug Ivan. Co-parenting was a heck of a lot better than the exhausting alternative. I resisted the urge to rub my belly as sweet thoughts danced through my mind. Just because he’d come over my stomach didn’t mean a pregnancy was prevented. There still was a chance we’d crossed that line, and I secretly hoped we had. This situation was permanent. We were staying here. If our family stayed just the three of us, so be it. But now that I accepted the change, a whole new possibility was pleasantly overtaking my mind. I would have Theo begin shipping things from North Dakota, but we would probably need to take a trip out there for some—
“Poppy?” Ivan pulled me from the castles in the sky.
“Oh, right.” I laughed. “Sorry.”
Rayko saluted me with the half-eaten sandwich. Sticky yellow goo ran down his fingers—messy, just like a kid. “This is good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome! Okay, so I was thinking,. I paused to draw a deep breath “The developer, Haroldson—”
“I thought you called him Harrison,” Rayko interrupted, looking at Ivan.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Ivan clipped. “And I did.”
“It’sHaroldson,” I added.
Rayko shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. Go on.”
“Food. Mouth. Shut,” Ivan barked.
Rayko bore his teeth.
