I met his gaze steadily. “I want whatever makes them happy. Whatever keeps them safe.”
Declan nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think they’re lucky to have you.”
Before I could respond, soft footsteps announced Nora’s arrival. She padded into the kitchen inpajamas that Ella had packed, her hair tousled from sleep.
“Hi,” she said shyly, hovering in the doorway.
“Hey, kiddo,” I greeted her, setting down my mug. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess.” She moved closer, glancing around the massive kitchen with wide eyes. “This place is like a castle.”
“Pretty much is,” I agreed. “Hungry?”
She nodded, climbing onto one of the stools at the island. “Is Mom still sleeping?”
“Yeah, I thought we’d let her rest a bit longer.” I opened the refrigerator and looked at the contents. “How about pancakes? I make a mean chocolate chip version.”
Her face lit up. “With whipped cream?”
“If we can find some,” I promised, already pulling ingredients from the shelves.
Declan excused himself, leaving us alone in the kitchen. As I mixed batter and heated a griddle, Nora watched me with curious eyes.
“Jake?” she asked finally. “Is my grandfather going to prison?”
I paused, considering how to answer. “Ahh,” I said. “He did some nasty things.”
She nodded, seeming to accept this. “He said I was supposed to be a Petrova. That Russia was myreal home.”
I set down the whisk and gave her my full attention. “Your home is wherever you and your mom are. And whatever your last name is, you’re still you—brave, smart, kind Nora.”
She smiled a little at that. “I was really scared,” she admitted, her voice small.
My throat tightened with emotion. “You were braver than anyone I’ve ever known,” I told her honestly.
She beamed at the praise, then grew serious again. “Is my dad staying with us? When we go home?”
The question caught me off guard. “I’m not sure,” I said carefully. “That’s something your mom and your dad need to figure out.”
“I hope he does,” she said, swinging her legs. “But I hope you stay too.”
I turned back to the stove, not wanting her to see how much her words affected me. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her, keeping my tone light. “Someone has to make sure Scout doesn’t eat all your socks.”
She giggled, the sound chasing away the last shadows of yesterday’s terror. We settled into the comfortable routine of making breakfast together, Nora helping sprinkle chocolate chips into the pancake batter, her small face intent.
By the time Ella appeared in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and beautiful, we had a stack of pancakes waiting and whipped cream piled high on Nora’s plate.
“What’s all this?” she asked, smiling at the domestic scene before her.
“Jake’s making his famous pancakes,” Nora announced, her mouth already smeared with chocolate. “They’re the best ever.”
Ella’s eyes met mine over Nora’s head, warm with something that made my heart skip. “Is that right?” she said, crossing to press a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “Guess I’d better try some then.”
I handed her a mug of coffee, our fingers brushing in the exchange. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than I expected,” she admitted, taking a grateful sip. “Though I missed you when I woke up.”
The simple admission, spoken so casually in front of Nora, felt significant—a small step toward whatever we were becoming.
