Another woman might let pride rule her.
But the thing is, I’ve lived on the streets. And you take what you can get. I’m not going to shoot myself in the foot for the sake of it.
And I’ll work my ass off, hopefully making my mark on the art world.
“But, wait a second,” I whisper, our lips close together, brushing in sultry movements. “Isn’t the name wrong?”
“Oh?” he says, tilting his head, his lips twitching.
“Is it?”
I turn and walk toward the studio, glancing across the kaleidoscopic garden and looking again at the sign. I wasn’t going crazy before.
It definitely says Erin Godunov.
“See,” I say, turning back to him.
My hands fly to my mouth.
A gasp escapes between my fingers.
Erik is kneeling down, his hands resting on his knee, his eyes alight like twin wildfires.
“Erin,” he whispers. And then clears his throat, speaking louder. “Erin, I’ve waited far too long to say this. Really, I should’ve said it the second I heard your voice outside Katelyn’s room. I love you.”
I gasp again, walking forward as though I don’t trust my legs to catch me.
“I love you so much,” he growls. “I love you more than I ever realized it was possible to love. My love for you—Jesus, I don’t know how to paint it with words. My love for you is unending, Erin. My love for you is a warm fire after too long spent in the cold. Goddamn, my love for you is everything. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
“Erik,” I croak, a sob crackling in my throat. “I love you, too. Oh, God, so much. So much.”
Tears slide down my cheeks.
Erik reaches into his jacket and brings out a felt ring box, opening it slowly. Sunlight catches the elegant diamond ring. I feel unsteady, as though I can feel the earth spinning, trying to hurtle me off.
But Erik will keep me here.
With him.
“Erin Woods,” he says. “I never thought I’d find the woman I would claim as mine. But the second I heard your voice, I knew. Something happened inside of me. Something magical, you could say. Erin Woods, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I squeal, throwing myself at him.
He laughs and catches me, sliding backward and lying down, both of us rolling in the luscious grass, the sounds of the city faraway through the shielding trees.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I yell, finding his lips.
He takes the ring and slides it onto my finger, and then lets the ring box fall and takes my face with both his hands.
The kiss is long and deep and I feel happiness flurrying around inside of me like hummingbirds.
“I never thought I deserved love,” I whisper. “But you make me feel like I do, Erik. You make me feel special.”
“You are special,” Erik says passionately. “And I’m so fucking glad every fool you’ve ever met was too stupid to see it. Because now you’re mine. Forever.”
EPILOGUE
THREE WEEKS LATER
Erik
“And you have to be very careful in the sun, Bullet,” Kat says, standing knee deep in the fountain as Bullet towers beside her.
She leans down into the water and reaches for his paws, massaging them.
“See? Nice and cool. Nice and better. Now let’s get you in some lovely shade and I promise you, you’ll feel like a million dollars. Won’t he, Erin? Won’t he feel like a million dollars?”
“How about a billion?” Erin says, sitting next to me on the wicker furniture, under the shade of the billowing umbrella.
I turn to her in something like wonder, a wave of love washing through me as I take in the sight of her, a feeling of rightness. She’s sitting with her legs crossed in the blessedly thin summer dress, settling over her like mist, her curves, her Erinness.
Everything about her is perfection.
Love swells and writhes and explodes and sparkles brightly inside of me.
I’ll still be hard, always.
I’ll still be the savage fucking beast I need to protect her, my fiancé, and Kat and Bullet and our family.
But I can’t deny the love.
She turns to me, a smile on her face, golden hair seeming to shine in the sunlight.
“What are you staring at?” she says.
“Just the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Oh?”
She turns, ostentatiously looking around the garden, as if searching for somebody who could be more devastatingly perfect than her, which is impossible.
But then Bullet lopes out of the fountain, nose lowered as he sniffs the grass for any sign of what Erin’s looking for.
“Hey, Bullet,” Kat giggles, leaping out and chasing after him, her bare feet making wet prints on the luscious grass.
“Heck,” Erin grins. “So I guess that backfired, huh?”
“That’s right,” I tell her, moving closer, sliding my hand over her shoulder and squeezing her close. “Now you just have to accept that you’re it, Erin, you’re the most elegant, beautiful, womanly woman alive. And that’s just one of the reasons I love you.”
She glows, and then looks up at me with a shimmer in her eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“I … I guess you could say I have something to tell you. But first, I don’t know—”
She sighs
“What is it?” I whisper, squeezing her shoulder in support.
Kat’s giggling becomes musical ambience as she chases Bullet around the garden, Bullet starting to enjoy the game, forgetting that he was supposed to be looking for something so he can just run around the place now.
I lean down, bringing my face close to Erin’s so our noses touch and tickle each other.
“You can tell me anything,” I assure her.
“I know,” she says, giggling lightly at the sensation of our noses. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents. And it’s just so horrible, Erik. It’s evil. What my dad did to my mom. What they did, having a baby and abandoning it, it, ha ha, me.”
“I know,” I say. “And I’m so sorry, Erin. But I can’t say I regret that it happened completely.”
“No?”
“No,” I whisper. “Because then I never would’ve found you, my Bratva queen. And I love you more than anything. It hurts, how much I love you. You make me feel like a new man. Or maybe you unlocked something inside of me that I never even knew needed unlocking.”
“I like that,” she says, stroking her fingers along my jaw. “But what if I have their same instincts when it comes to kids, Erik? What if I’m not going to be a good mother?”
My heart starts to stammer in my chest.
I feel tingles dancing over my skin, up my spine, joy trying to blossom in my chest.
I feel free, like I could fucking fly.
I sense what she’s hinting at.
But I won’t steal this moment from her.
“Erin,” I say, squeezing her tighter, closer. “I’ve seen you with Kat. I’ve seen you with Bullet. I’ve seen you, just plain seen you, and there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re going to be an incredible mother. You’re caring, you’re supportive, you’re talented, you’ll be an inspiration to them. Not to mention, you’ve got the perfect build for breastfeeding.”
She giggles, shaking her head at me. “I love you.”
“I mean it,” I say. “You never have to worry about that.”
“Well, then,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
Click, click, click, that’s the sound of our lives falling into place.
Kat and Bullet come walking over, sensing that something momentous is happening.
Erin licks her lips and leans back, readying herself.
“I’m pregnant,” she says.
I’m on my feet and punching the air before I realize what’s happening, my excitement driving me into overkill, and then I’m sprinting like a madman around the garden. I lea
p into the fountain and shout at the sky, “Yes, yes, yes.”
Bullet lopes around at my feet, grinning, and then I return to Erin. She stands up and meets me halfway and I wrap my arms around her.
“I take it you’re happy?” she says, a thrill in her voice.
“That’s an understatement,” I say, laughing, full of love and warmth.
“Does that mean I’m going to be an auntie or a nephew?” Kat asks, and then her expression turns puzzled. “No, wait a sec, I messed that up.”
Erin and I laugh.
“It’s cousin, right?” Kat goes on earnestly. “I’ll be a big cousin and always look out for them, right, uncle?”
“Absolutely,” I say, putting one hand around my niece’s shoulder and pulling her towards us to share in the embrace.
I smile so widely my cheeks ache, happiness like I’ve never felt before flowing through me.
Love.
What an incredible thing it is.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Erin
Isabelle lies at my feet in the Moses basket, a pink ribbon in her hair, her chest rising and falling softly as she sleeps contentedly. I’ve got the lid pulled up, shadowing her from the sun, and we’re sitting under the shade of the large tree in the outdoor section of my studio.
As I touch the canvas with the brush, painting my gorgeous daughter, I feel my love for her exploding like fireworks all over again.
I feel it hitting me deep.
A quivering of love that jolts through me each moment I look at her.
It’s almost hard to paint her, because I’m just so obsessed with staring at her little body, of remembering every single detail about her, painting her in my mind rather than painting her with my brush.
“Life’s looking up, little lady,” I whisper, quietly so I don’t wake her. “That horrible man, Michael, he’s gone, bye-bye. Can you say that, huh? Can you say bye-bye?”
That’s madness, of course. She’s only three months old. She won’t be able to talk for a while yet. But despite that, there’s something inside of me that expects her to just open her mouth and start talking now.
Childbirth was incredible, but it wasn’t like somebody new was coming into the world, oh no.
It was like I was meeting little Bella, like I’d been waiting my whole life for her, and now here she was.
It was like being reunited, like a glittering shard of my soul had been returned to me.
“Daddy’s doing so well at work, hmm?” I go on.
Erik’s legitimate businesses have skyrocketed this year, and I’ve actually started to have some interest from people in the art world, too. There will be an exhibit next week, simply called Belle, all pieces I’ve painted either of my daughter or that were inspired by her.
Butterflies dance in my belly when I think about all those people staring at my work, but I know that with my family, I can do it.
With my family, I can do anything.
My family.
Any doubts I had about being able to be a better parent than my mom and dad were pushed to the wayside the second I felt her kick inside of me, felt how fragile and dependent she was, how vulnerable.
I knew that I’d never be able to let anything happen to her, I’d never abandon her or mistreat her.
“And hasn’t Kat done well at school this year, hmm? Hasn’t cousin Kat done a great job?”
She’s getting smarter, that girl, losing herself in books for hours on end sometimes. Well, that’s when she and her friends aren't taking over one of the rooms in the house to host disco parties, or down at the skating rink, once Erik and I sat there, watching her speed around under the neon lights, a grin lighting up her face as her braid danced against her back.
I paint, and lose myself in the painting, and then before I know it my personal guard – a friendly, respectful man named Andrei – tells me that Erik and Kat are on their way.
I put away my things and carry Belle inside, making sure she’s not too hot and then changing her diaper.
Once she’s fresh and changed – and suddenly extremely awake, a curious smile on her face – I hear the tell-tell sound of Bullet nosing at the door.
That was one of the things I was nervous about when we introduced Belle to the family. I wondered if Bullet would be okay around a baby. He could crush her just by sitting down at the wrong time, after all.
But when we introduced him to her, he just padded over and sniffed her, the gentlest I’d ever seen him.
Afterward he sat beside her, immediately guarding her, immediately understanding that she’s part of the family.
And now he’s sniffing the door, not to check if I’m okay, but so that he can check on Belle.
A moment later, Erik pushes it open and Bullet pads over to the basket, leaning down and sniffing Belle’s head, and then giving her hand a small lick before sitting beside her, a big grin on his face.
I face my man, dressed from work in his steel suit and his salt and pepper hair, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie loosened. He’s just come from a big meeting and I can tell by the warmth of his smile and the spark in his azure eyes that it went well.
“Hey, Erin,” Kat says, walking in after him, still giving me a shock by how much taller she is than last year.
She’s really shot up this summer.
“Uncle Erik did really amazing today. He’s going to open a dog rescue shelter. How cool is that?”
“So you got the permits?” I ask, dancing over to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and staring with unending love – and searing lust – up at my husband.
“Yes, just about,” he smiles.
“Such modesty,” I giggle. “I bet there was never any doubt to begin with.”
His smile is bright and carefree, the smile of a happily married man, and it makes me want to dance in joy every time I see it, knowing I caused it. Jesus, I’m the woman Erik is happily married to.
Even now, in my baggy paint-flecked shirt and my baggy summer shorts, barefoot from the garden, Erik stares at me with that same heat in his expression.
“And you?” he whispers, moving subtly closer to me, but holding himself back because of the children. “How has your day been, my queen?”
I lean up and kiss his lips, soft and tempting, and then turn away before I lose control.
“Come and see.”
I take them to where I stowed the painting, a room perfect for drying, and then nod at the canvas.
Kat gasps and whispers, “It’s amazing, auntie Erin, it’s really the most amazing one you’ve done yet.”
The painting is just of Belle in her basket, but just in a sentence like that doesn’t really make sense, because Belle in her basket means so much, it’s so impactful. I’ve tried to capture that, not just the physical reality of how she looks, but the emotional weight, the flares of joy and hope that thunders through me every time I drink in the sight of my daughter.
I glance at Erik and see that he’s smiling widely, and that his eyes are glimmering, softly, as though he might cry.
But he’s Erik Godunov, and he coughs back the sob.
“It’s incredible,” he whispers, captivated.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TEN YEARS LATER
Erik
We walk along the edges of the pond, the magnolia tree shedding its pink leaves and sending them fluttering down into the water.
Erin walks beside me, clutching our four month old, Tyler, to her chest.
Belle is skipping ahead, looking so much like Kat did at her age, a braid dangling down her back as she runs, only this one is sun colored like her mother’s.
Vlad walks beside me, my seven year old son with a grin on his face as he looks up at me, shielding his eyes from the sun with his cupped hand.
“Can we throw the ball after lunch, Daddy?” he asks.
“Of course,” I smile, reaching down and ruffling his hair. “You’ll have to go easy on me, though.”
; Jessica, our five and a half year old, is walking ahead with Bullet. I let my eyes roam over my old dog, getting older by the day now, and swallow a lump. He still looks so regal and loyal, his head held high and his legs moving powerfully, sniffing the air.
Jess puts a hand on his back and turns to me, smiling, proud of herself for taking such good care of Bullet.
I feel something shatter in my heart when I see that pride in her eyes. She’s got deep brown hair, the color mine was before it turned silver.
I glance at Erin again, looking so womanly and beautiful in the flowing white pants and the baggy, artistic, bohemian shirt she’s wearing.
Ever since her career as an artist took off – skyrocketed, is the word – she’s developed beautifully as a person.
We’ve grown together, supporting each other every step of the way, and things seem like they’re only set to get brighter.
“Can you believe this is our lives?” Erin whispers, rocking Tyler softly. “Sometimes I feel like we don’t deserve it.”
“You do,” I say. “You deserve the world. But you might be right about me.”
“Oh, hush,” she says, tossing her flowing golden hair, worn even longer now than she used to. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”
“Ew,” Belle says, laughing. “Ew, ew, big time, EW.”
We all laugh as we head around the pond and start back up toward the house. Kat is already waiting for us when we get there, a tall, lean woman of twenty-two years with her long braid now replaced with a tight bun, bobbing as she busies herself with setting the long table around which we’re going to eat lunch.
My niece looks up and smiles briefly. I smile back, feeling another pang in my chest. It seems like just yesterday she was a little girl running around the garden with Bullet, and now she’s grown so much.
She’s at school to become a vet and she’s doing a kick-ass job. She’s entered the dating world, though she doesn’t talk to me about how that goes, mostly Erin. And when she does bring somebody home, he better appreciate my niece, my dear Yekaterina’s daughter.
Now, we all sit around the table, Erin walking over to the open back door to lovingly place Tyler in his crib.
Bratva Boss's Babysitter: An Instalove Possessive Male Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 192) Page 8
