He blinked at me and smiled. “No chance. I’m one of those people who believe in instant connection and destiny. I was meant to meet you, Ruslan.”
I touched my nose to his and dabbed a kiss on his lips. “What would you say if I left the not entirely legal part of my business behind?”
“Who would run it?” His breath hitched.
“Doesn’t matter.” I still didn’t want him involved, especially now that I was considering stepping away. “I’ve never really been interested in it, and I want a family. A life. BeingwhoI was before never gave me that luxury. It’s cliché—”
“It isn’t,” he said fiercely. “We all want a family of some kind.”
“Do you think that’s possible in the future?”
“Maybe?” He pressed his lips together in thought. “I’m not going to lie, I think it’s too early to tell, but I like to take chances. I did it when I became a model, and I think everything led me down this path, you included.” He nuzzled his nose against mine again. “So, let’s see where this takes us.”
Excitement buzzed inside me. “You still going to take that offer from Miguel?”
“Ah, fuck yeah.”
I laughed loudly.
Worry had his forehead creasing again. “Those detectives... . Will they give you any more trouble?”
I sighed. It would be nice if I had an answer for him, but it wasn’t that easy. It would take me a while to hand everything over to Ana, and while I was running the legitimate part of the organization, Stewart would still be sniffing around.
“Honestly? Yes. But don’t you worry, we’ll handle them.”
His eyes widened.
I quickly interjected before he could say anything. “Not like that.”
He relaxed and chuckled. “I was a little concerned.”
I tapped him on the chin. “That’s in my past now.”
10
ASA
“She sells seashells by the seashore.” I repeated the tongue twister over and over until I nearly went cross-eyed as I paced along the edge of the designated filming area in the kitchen of a big old Victorian house. The arched windows were taller than me and let in a flood of early morning light that the white vaulted ceiling reflected back so that it felt like I was standing directly outside. Since it was early November, the sunshine had a buttery quality that made it softer than any other time of year. Autumn just always felt different to me.
We were filming in Edison, New Jersey, which was lucky because that meant I didn’t have to be here alone.
“What are you doing?” Ruslan snickered, and I gasped as he came up to me with a cup of coffee. I shook my head and gestured at the crisp white shirt I was wearing.
“Are you insane? I will be toast if I get it dirty. Murphy’s Law says I’m going to wear that if I try to take even the teeniest, tiniest sip.”
He frowned and set the cup down on a small table nearby, which held silenced cell phones and other odds and ends from people’s pockets that the cast didn’t want to leave in their trailer, but also didn’t want to have on them when we started filming. I flashed the script ofWerewolf Wanderlustat him. He smirked.
“I’m loosening my tongue and working on my enunciation.”
Ruslan hummed and grasped my shoulders, turning me. I stared into his bright blue eyes and admired the way the sunshine glinted on his dark hair. I wasn’t shocked when he bent down to kiss me, but I dodged out of the way and blew him an air smooch instead.
“Sorry, makeup.”
The tiny furrow that had formed on his brow disappeared and he peeked at the script while giving me a small hug. “You’ll do great.”
“How did you get on the set?” I joked, giving him a shove. “There’s supposed to be security.”
He shrugged, but I figured it had something to do with him ponying up some cash for the production, which technically made him a producer.
