Confusion and fury lit his eyes as I retreated again when he took a step forward, but slowly, his lips pinched. The arrogance fled him. Wearing a bit of a scowl since he didn’t appear to want to say it, he informed my parents, “I’m sorry. That was rude.” He didn’t wait for their response, turning his attention back to me, holding his hand out. “There. Was that good enough?”
It was a start.I sighed and grumbled, “Just try not to do it again.” I ignored his deepening scowl and placed my hand in his…to be jerked against him and held tight. He was too damn used to getting what he wanted. This was going to be interesting.
Dinner was a curious affair. There was a mixture of Russian and American dishes placed in the center of the table when our entire group sat down. Daniil put my parents at the end of the table, apparently a place of importance, reserved for honored guests, and placed me at his side where he sat at the head of the table. Grigori sat on his other side with Ember next to him—Nikki and Beth had conked out in the other room on a couch, already having their own dinner brown bag style during the game between cheering. The rest of Daniil’s kids sat next to us. I almost laughed when Artur and Katie sat side-by-side, silent. I think Katie tried to sit somewhere else, but Daniil barked out where everyone was to sit. She didn’t argue.
After my dad had said grace—no one acted surprised this time—dishes were passed around in a clockwise direction. And most smelled wonderful and looked great…except for a few of the Russian dishes. When Eva went to pass them to me, I grabbed them instinctively, and just about puked when the smell hit me. Daniil was quick on the ball, though, and every dish I reacted to that way—there were only about three—he quickly grabbed it from my hands and gave it to a cook, who stood behind him. And I swear she was staring at my plate and what I put on it, studying it like she was making a mental note of what I ate and what I didn’t.
Smiling softly at Daniil, a little embarrassed, I said, “Thank you. I know what you’re doing. And I do appreciate it, but I hope none of those were your favorites.” I was betting they wouldn’t be placed on his table again when I was around.
Daniil passed off some corn to Grigori and leaned over kissing my forehead. “You’re welcome. And my favorite is this,” he lifted his filled coffee cup, smiling at it, “and you already said you didn’t have a problem with it.” His eyes glanced at mine quickly, as if looking for confirmation that I hadn’t changed my mind.
Chuckling, seeing that he seriously had a thing for coffee, I shook my head. “No. It smells nice. You smell like that sometimes.” I had just realized that he did often smell of dark black coffee. He had to drink it a lot. “It’s a good aroma.”
Lightly, he grinned, taking a sip, his dark eyes on mine over the rim of his cup. “Eat, my sweet. I know you are starving.”
My tummy grumbled right then, almost louder than the conversation around the table. And said conversation in my immediate vicinity stopped, and they all stared at my stomach. Instinctively, I covered my stomach, pushing a few stray curls back that had come loose from my short ponytail. That just added to my embarrassment.
Eva’s eyebrows snapped together. “I thought you ate at lunch.”
“She did. Leave her be,” Daniil stated calmly, bending and placing his hand over mine on my stomach. Softly, he stated, “Ignore them. The food is delicious.” He picked up my spoon and scooped some mashed potatoes and gravy on it, holding it up to my mouth.
I took the bite, and my eyes instantly hooded as the spices of the gravy and subtle texture of the potatoes hit my taste buds. Mmm. He wasn’t kidding. Grabbing the spoon from him, I did ignore everyone and dug in. And I was in pregnancy heaven. The food was magnificent. So much so that my mom even asked from down the table if she could get the recipe for the chicken and whatever it was drizzled in.
Daniil answered any question given him, but his eyes stayed glued on me as he ate. I could feel it. I took a breather between corn and the bread, glancing at him. He was smiling softly. He did that a lot.
That was until Cole stood abruptly from the end of the table, staring down at his own plate.
The bodyguards standing around the room, whom I had actually grown accustomed to, moved a tiny step his way as if they were all in sync, making me notice them.
The table went silent, and Daniil placed a hand on the back of my chair—which I was pretty sure he put there so he could toss me if need be, and stated casually, “Is there something wrong, Mr. Donovan?” He didn’t call Brent or Cole by their names when he spoke to them, I had noticed.
Cole cleared his throat, and his attention went to Ember.
Ember and Grigori, I noticed had been almost respectful when they were around. Other than that initial kiss to show the world they were together, they kept their touches light and didn’t moon over one another when Brent and Cole were around, like how they had acted yesterday in the limo ride to the airport. I wasn’t sure who made that decision—heck, it may have been mutual—but, they were keeping it low-key in front of them, nevertheless.
Cole’s eyes weren’t ice like they normally were. There was true pain and heartache reflected in his gaze as he stared at her. As Ember’s face turned stony, no emotion showing, she also lost all of her color, her face going white. It appeared she saw what I did through Cole’s features. Cole ran a hand through his hair and said softly to her, “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry I’ve made you into the person you are today.” His eyes closed, and he sighed, shaking his head. “I did this to you, and I’m so very sorry.” He opened his eyes and glanced down at Brent, who sat calmly next to him. “I can’t sit here and watch this anymore.” And then…he turned and walked out of the room.
I bit my lip, not understanding completely, but knowing from the conviction of his heartfelt apology, Cole believed what he was saying wholeheartedly.
In the silence, all of us hearing Cole’s retreating footsteps in the hallway, Brent leaned forward, and casually wiped his mouth with his napkin. Laying it down gently on the table, he also stood, and bizarrely, he started chuckling. Everyone was silent, watching him as he turned furious and pain filled eyes on Ember, who looked a little faint. “You know, darl—” he stopped, shaking his head, “sorry,Ember. You know, Ember, the one thing that is so damn funny about all of this?”
Ember shook her head slightly, her breaths becoming a little shallow.
Brent ran a hand through his blond curls, still very casual even though his graze said differently. “The really fucking funny part of this is that I was once as you are right now. Once, I ran from you. Once, I was also a coward.” He fiddled with the napkin on the table. “Cole’s correct. We did this to you. We made you the coward you are today.” He glanced up and stared at her hard, placing his hands on the table and leaning over it. “Sure, you’re a fierce fighter. Sure, you kept on when we were supposed to be dead. You did the brave thing and didn’t give up your life.” He shook his head, watching as Ember’s eyes hardened even further. “But, you did give up your heart. When we came back, instead of you giving us a real chance, the men that you gave your heart to, you ran to the only man who didn’t have a heart to give. Like you.”
He stood upright, turning his attention to Grigori, who was staring at him coldly. “Don’t think even for a second that I, or Cole, don’t know everything about your past.Everything.Including the fact that you lost someone you love too, and only have a coward’s heart left.” He shook his head, his eyes shutting like Cole’s had. “And I’m still in love with a woman who has the same issues.” He sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes, saying casually to Ember, “You know I’ll always love you. Always. We have too much history to change that, but,” he faltered and cleared his throat, “…I can’t sit back and just hurt waiting for you.” He glanced away from her. “Cole and I won’t be home tonight. The girls can stay here with you.”
Ember’s breathing faltered, and Brent glanced at her, stating, “It’s time to move on.” His eyes flicked to Grigori. “If you can do it, so can I. Or Cole.” Ember’s eyes went to her plate and stayed there, and Brent whispered, “You should have kissed us. Just once. But instead, you ran. You were a coward. You still are. And I wanted you to know that this was your choice.”
There was silence.
Grigori was furious. It was all there in his dark expression. And he stood slowly, stating in a deeply accented voice, “You and Cole died to her. And she did move on. Picking up the pieces the best way she knew how to give the children that you left behind—heroic or not—a chance at a normal, healthy life.” He leaned over the table, slashing his hand through the air. “You’re right. You both did this to her. But, have you ever thought, for even one second, she didn’t kiss you because she knew she belonged to someone else?”
Ember was practically trembling in her seat, and blinking rapidly at her cooling plate of food while Grigori and Brent stared one another down.
Brent’s jaw clenched, and he hissed, “She may have chosen you to fuck, but has she ever said she loves you? Ever actually said the words?”
My mom and dad were mute—and by their expressions, they were keeping up, so they must have been reading my articles. That was a good thing they were letting this happen without intervening. Brent and Grigori looked ready to kill one another. Not the time to butt in and try to make peace.
