“What?”
“Nothing.”Everything.
But how could I tell her I was having a ride-or-die moment? We’d been laughing, teasing each other, and now that was all I could think about. Us. Together, married for years…decades. Forever, like I’d promised in my vows.
I sucked in a breath. She’d been hurt, emotionally and physically, by that douche. It would take time for her to trust me, trust in us. But I’d taken the first, hardest step: we were married.
And I wouldnevershare.
Growing up, I’d had exactly one toy: an old action hero that some other child abandoned on the street. Already scuffed when I found it, it was more so now after all these years. I’d carried it in my pocket to the United States and it sat on my dresser where I looked at it every day.
Ida Jane would learn that I cared about and for the few people and items I let into my life. She was one of those. She was the center.
Loreen’s comment about grandbabies flitted through my head and I scowled. I didnotwant kids. Never had. The idea of being responsible for a small, defenseless human created an ache in my chest, clawing at my throat. I shuddered, knowing I’d be a terrible parent. How could I not? My role models were shit and my own time as a kid was spent surviving—at least until I found hockey and a place to focus my energy and anger.
“You seem…flushed.”
I cleared my throat. “I get warm. Not used to this weather.”
What shit was I spouting?
“Here. Let’s turn up the air conditioning.”
“Yeah. Great.” I tugged at my collar.
We pulled into the garage of our house, and I turned off the ignition. I hustled around the front end, helping her out because she’d already opened her door.
Shuffling my feet, I kept my grip on her hand, and the warmth anchored me. “I have a surprise for you. It arrived this morning.”
“Maxim. You didn’t have to—”
“I did,” I told her. “As much as you want to downplay this, a weddingmatters. We joined ourselves together…” I inhaled a long breath and blew it out gradually. Ida Jane wasn’t ready to hear my commentary about our wedding. IfI wasn’t feeling these emotions now, myself, I wouldn’t believe them—or in them. “I wanted to commemorate this milestone,” I finished. I fidgeted, disliking this vulnerability.
“But your attorney explained it, remember? You’ll divorce me once your Green Card is sorted and Dillon’s no longer a threat to my safety.”
Her comment made me wish for a long period of uncertainty with my immigration status, because I refused to allow Ida Jane to be hurt again, especially by her sack-of-shit ex.
I didn’twantto divorce her. There. I acknowledged that Ineverplanned to let her go, but that was a fight for another day. Well, now, too, because I refused to play fair in my efforts to win over Ida Jane.
Was there someone I could bribe to make sure it moved slower than molasses in a Saint Petersburg winter?
“Why don’t we enjoy being married for a while before we discuss its dissolution? Because right now? I’m looking forward to our wedding night.” I waggled my eyebrows and Ida Jane giggled.
Swinging her up into my arms, I walked into our house. “Welcome home, Mrs. Dolov.”
She smiled up at me, shy and sweet. That innocent look, and pretty much everything about Ida Jane, made me want to fuck her.
Once we made it into the kitchen, I set her back on her feet, holding her waist, her back to my front. The soft click of toenails preceded my surprise. A huge, black, furry head with dark brown eyes and a black nose peered around the counter’s edge.
“Blade, come. This is your owner.”
Ida Jane squeaked as the rest of the enormous dog ambled into view. I had to admit, I was impressed when I met Blade earlier this morning. His trainer had come by early to give me a rundown on the commands Blade knew and an hour-long training session so that I could manage the dog. I’d have him come back soon to do the same with Ida Jane. The dog stood to my waist, had a thick coat of fur, and large paws, not unlike a mountain lion. Nerves jangled through me as I offered the beast my hand.
He’d sniffed me with indifference before yawning and settling back down with his head on those saucer-sized paws.
I shifted to Ida Jane’s side so I could take in her expression. “He’s your wedding gift.”
Ida Jane blinked again before her eyes widened. “You got me a lion…er, dog,” she said.
