“Fuck off,” I tell him, but there’s no anger in my words. We’ve known each other too long for that.
Proving my point, he laughs and says, “You sound a little frustrated.”
“I am.”
We’re both quiet for a second while I pretend I’m not watching Lily and he’s kind enough to not point it out. He can’t resist for long, though, and soon he’s saying, “You can’t fuck her, Ilya. You know you can’t.”
“Who said anything about fucking?” I ask, even though I’m definitely thinking about fucking.
Nikolai doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, he says, “We need her to teach us, and you breaking her heart is not going to make her want to stick around.”
“So now I’m fucking her and breaking her heart?”
He shrugs and raises a brow at me. “I mean, that is kind of your thing.”
“If I remember correctly, it used to be your thing, too.”
That really makes him smile. “Did someone just fall in love?”
“We’re done here,” I tell him, but when I try to walk away, he grabs my arm to stop me.
“Seriously, Ilya, all joking aside, don’t pursue her unless you’re ready to get down on one knee for her.” Before he leaves me to stare at my crush like a perv hiding in the shadows, he gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “If that’s what’s happening here, you know I’ve got your back. Meeting Sabrina was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d love to see you settled down. Plus,” he adds with another grin, “you’re getting way too old to be a manwhore.”
“I’m thirty-one,” I say. “Hardly an old man.”
“Yeah, but still, you’re heading into some very sad territory.”
The solemn tone of his voice paired with the obnoxious look on his face is enough to make me laugh, because the jackass always knows how to get a rise out of me. Lily’s head whips around at the sound, and when I smile at her, she quickly looks away.
Nikolai laughs and nudges my shoulder before walking away. “Finally, someone who’s immune to your charm. I knew it would happen one day.”
I ignore him as he walks away, and when Lily gets up to get the kids a snack, I notice the way Bran keeps his eyes on her, watching every movement she makes. The newest member of the Medvedev family has gotten to all of us. There’s not a single person here who hasn’t taken his story to heart, and we all want to see him smiling and playing instead of always wearing the terrified look he’s wearing right now. He’s way too young to be so scared, and my heart breaks for him every time I think about it.
I’m still watching the interaction between Lily and the kids when I hear Vasily call my name. When I turn, he waves me over, and I follow him out to the back veranda. I’m worried he’s going to ask me about my not-so-subtle stalking habit I’ve newly acquired, but all he does is motion for me to follow him around to the front. There’s a large box in the back of his truck, and judging by the enormous photo on the side, it’s some sort of toy that involves sand.
“It’s one of those sand and water tables,” Vasily says, grabbing one end and pulling the box out from the bed of the truck so I can grab the other end. “I thought Bran and Talia might like it.”
“I’m sure they will,” I say, lifting up my end and helping him carry the thing around back again. I nod at the blown-up smiling faces on the box. “I mean, they’re having a blast.”
Vasily glances at their faces and then looks away. “God, I hope I see him smiling like that one day.”
“He will, Vasya. It’s just going to take some time. He’ll get there, though.” I wait a second and add, “Lily seems to really know what she’s doing.”
Something in my tone has my boss arching a brow at me after we’ve set the box down on the patio. Before I can say anything else, he points a finger at me and says, “Don’t you dare fuck her, Ilya.”
For the second time in less than an hour, I ask, “Who said anything about fucking?”
He grunts and narrows his eyes at me, reminding me he is still very much the Bratva boss that everyone fears. I’ve seen him do some violent things over the years, but the one that comes to mind now is watching him skin the tattoo off one of our members because he’d hurt Vasya’s wife. He’d held up that piece of skin and waved it around for all to see. You do not fuck with Vasily Medvedev, and apparently that means I also don’t get to fuck Lily, his live-in ASL teacher.
“Nobody’s fucking,” I say, and then busy myself with opening the large box in a lame excuse to break eye contact.
“It better damn well stay that way,” he mutters before joining in.
It doesn’t take long before we have the large table put together. One side can hold water and has little pathways for boats to float through, and the other side is for sand so they can build little sand castles and play around in it. I shouldn’t be surprised when we stand back to survey our work and Vasya looks over at me with a grin to say, “I’ll let you haul the sand up from the beach. It’ll give you a chance to work off some of that frustration.”
He gives a sharp whistle and Ruslan quickly comes running over. The 150-pound Tibetan Mastiff is a giant ball of energy as he comes to a stop near Vasya. I watch as he pets his dog, speaking to him in Russian in what can only be described as loving tones, the kind of voice he reserves for close family and Ruslan. His voice isn’t dripping with honey when he looks over his shoulder at me and says, “Make sure you fill it to the top. I imagine they’ll spill a good bit of it while they’re playing.”
Recognizing the dismissal for what it is, I grab the wheelbarrow and a shovel and head down the path to the private beach that stretches out as far as I can see. Moving to America had been a drastic change, but this view had made me instantly fall in love with my new home. The ocean crashes against the shore while the seagulls squawk above me, and not even the boring task of shoveling sand can put me in a bad mood when this view is before me.
