Then she opens the car door, pulls out a toothbrush and a half-empty bottle of water, and slips behind the edge of the lot. She rinses, spits, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
When I glance at Kirill, his entire expression changes, tightening and sharpening as if something set him off. He’sprobably thinking what I’m thinking: either she’s weirdly committed to oral hygiene or she has been sleeping in that car.
That makes me more interested.
“She yours?” A smirk carves itself out as I tilt my head toward her.
His glare cuts.
“No,” he growls. “I haven’t touched her. But do not think for a second that I won’t kill you if you do.”
I’ve never once heard him this intense over any woman, not even Lev’s mother.
This girl matters. Maybe more than he wants to admit.
“Ya ponil.” I nod once, clapping his shoulder. “Bezdomnaya devushka tvaya.”Got it.Homeless girl is yours.
“She’s not homeless,” he snaps. “Or she wasn’t supposed to be.”
“What does that mean?”
But he ignores me.
The girl disappears into the diner, and Kirill finally shuts off the engine.
“Come on,” he mutters. “Let’s eat.”
He helps Lev out of the car, and we head inside. The second we step through the door, a hostess approaches with a bright, overly rehearsed smile.
“How many?”
“Three.” Kirill’s voice is flat, almost cold.
Her smile flickers. “Right this way.”
She grabs three menus and turns toward the nearest open booth, but Kirill doesn’t budge.
“That section.” He tilts his chin toward the far end of the diner.
“Of course.”
And the moment we round the corner, I understand why he made this request. The girl from the parking lot is working this side.
“So…” I lean across the table once we’re all seated. “Homeless girl works at the diner. Does she know you own it?”
“Net,” Kirill bites out.
That reaction? It tells me everything. There’s something going on here, and I intend to find out what.
I glance over at Lev seated beside him, flicking through a menu like he’s memorizing it for a test, headphones resting over his ears.
The girl starts toward us, and Kirill immediately sits up straighter.
Interesting.
When she reaches us, she grins brightly, her cheeks heating up when she looks at my brother. “Hey, guys. Good to see you.”
I catch her name, Sloane, on the tag pinned to her apron as her gaze sweeps the table.
