Michelle clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m so sorry about your injury. The girls and I were watching the game when it happened. They’re so worried about you.”
“The girls?” Elena asked.
Michelle smiled at her. Did this woman ever not smile? “My kids,” Michelle explained. “They love watching Vlad play hockey. He got us tickets earlier this year for one of their home games, and the girls still talk about it.”
Vlad cleared his throat again. “It was good of you to come.” He seemed to remember the bowl in his hand. “Would you like to eat? Elena made one of my favorite soups.”
Not for her. The thought arose with surprising ferocity along with an urge to storm into the kitchen and deposit Michelle’s pie in the trash.
“No, thank you,” Michelle said quickly. “It smells wonderful, but the girls will be back from their dad’s soon, so I should probably get home. I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“I’m good, good,” Vlad stammered. “The surgery went well.”
“Are you in any pain?”
“No. Not yet. Maybe when the morphine shot begins to wear off, though.”
Every nervous utterance was a tiny needle in Elena’s nerves. Which was ridiculous. What did it matter that a pretty, kind woman had brought Vlad a homemade pie? Michelle met Elena’s gaze, and there was that smile again. Too genuine for Elena to trust it. She really was her father’s daughter.
“Do you have everything you need? Can I do anything to help?” Michelle asked.
The correct response was probably something like, That’s very kind, but all Elena could manage was, “We are fine for now.”
“Well, if that changes, I am just a couple of blocks away.” Michelle shrugged with a deep breath. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Please do call me if you need anything.”
“I will walk you out,” Elena said.
“No need. I know the way. You have your hands full already.”
Politeness dictated that Elena walk her to the door anyway. Jealousy sent her instead straight to the kitchen. Elena set the pie on the counter next to the bowl with dough for the pelmeni. Her enthusiasm for making them had selfishly waned.
“Elena.”
With a startled gasp, she spun around. Vlad stood just inside the kitchen, leaning on his crutches. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him approach.
She smoothed the front of her sweatshirt. “Michelle seems really nice.”
“She’s a friend from the neighborhood.” He spoke too carefully, as if he could see right through her.
“It was nice of her to make this for you.” Elena gestured toward the pie. “Do you want a piece? Go back and sit down. I’ll bring it to you.”
Vlad stared with an unblinking expression before giving her a brief nod of acknowledgment. His crutches pounded out a soft thud-scuff rhythm as he returned to the living room. As soon as he was gone, Elena leaned against the counter and sucked in a deep breath. She needed to get her shit together, to use an American phrase she’d grown especially fond of. Lusting over him? Shuddering over the touch of his hand? Flushing with jealousy over a woman sharing her pie? She had no right to feel any of it. She was here to help him heal, nothing more, because there could be nothing more. And if she was going to survive the time with him, she needed to remind herself as often as necessary that this was temporary. Once Vlad was healed, only one thing was in her future.
Elena dug her phone from her pocket. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hammered out a text.
You said to call if I ever needed anything. Can we talk?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elena awoke early the next morning because she wanted to make syrniki for breakfast. The Russian pancakes were another one of Vlad’s favorites and one more of many dishes she learned to make in his mother’s kitchen.
She showered and twisted her wet hair atop her head before throwing on the only thing left that was clean—a pair of jogging shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Before heading downstairs, she peeked in at Vlad. He was asleep under only the sheet. Neighbor Cat was curled against his side.
“Hussy,” Elena whispered.
The cat blinked and stretched out her paws before burrowing closer into Vlad’s chest.
Elena had just set out all the ingredients for breakfast when someone rang the doorbell. She apparently wasn’t the only person who’d gotten up early. Colton and Noah stood on the other side of the front door, both of them grinning.
“Vlad is still asleep,” she said, letting them in. “But I was just about to start breakfast.”
Colton rubbed his hands together. “I was hoping you’d say that. What’re you making?”
“Syrniki. They’re like pancakes with cheese in the batter.”
“Cheese pancakes?” Colton said. “I’m going to eat the shit out of those.”
Noah handed over a pastry bag that matched the one from yesterday. “A present from Alexis, my fiancée.”
Elena peeked inside to find a variety of pastries. “Wow, please tell Alexis I said thank you.”
“You got any coffee going?” Colton asked, holding his fist to a yawn.
“Um, no.”
“I’ll do it,” Colton said.
Another car pulled into the driveway. Elena peeked through the window.
“That’ll be Mack and Malcolm,” Noah said, following Colton toward the kitchen.
Elena opened the door again, and sure enough, Mack and Malcolm strolled up the sidewalk. “You guys are here to bathe my husband too?”
“It’s the highlight of our day,” Mack said. “Bro’s got an ass that won’t quit.”
“Um—” Elena shut the door.
“Ignore him,” Malcolm said. Then he bent and kissed Elena’s cheek. She had no response other than stunned disbelief as he followed Mack to the kitchen. Yesterday, Elena had been convinced Vlad’s friends hated her, and now a kiss on the cheek and pastry gifts? Elena wanted to pound the heel of her hand against her head, because once again she felt like cobwebs were growing in her mind. Like she’d been dropped into the second act of a play.
She returned to the kitchen to find Colton filling the coffee maker with water. Mack sat on the floor with Neighbor Cat in his lap. He looked up. “I didn’t know you guys had a cat.”
“We don’t. Er, I mean, Vlad doesn’t. It’s not his cat.”
Mack’s hands paused in the act of petting the cat’s fur. “Whose cat is it?”
“I don’t know. Animals just show up here a lot.”
Noah snorted. “Of course they do.”
Elena began to work on the pancake dough—syrniki was not made with the kind of liquid batter Americans were used to—but another knock at the door brought a quick interruption. She looked at the guys. Mack shrugged. “We’re all here. Gavin, Del, and Yan have an early game today, so they aren’t coming.”
Elena gulped. That could only mean one thing. She returned to the front door slowly, as if she’d filled her house slippers with pebbles. This time, the face on the other side of the door greeted her with what Elena assumed was a permanent scowl. Elena fought the urge to cross herself as she opened the door. “Good morn—”
Claud pushed her way inside. “Where is he?”
“It is lovely to see you, too, Claud. Vlad is still asleep.”
“Go wake him up,” Claud demanded.
Linda let out a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry about her. Truly. She’s grumpy in the morning.”
Elena lifted an eyebrow. “Just in the morning?”
Andrea walked in last with a dish in her hands. “I made a quiche.”
“Do you know what a quiche is?” Claud asked.
“Yes, I know what a quiche is. I grew up in Russia, not on the moon.” She returned her attention to Andrea. “Thank you. I a
m just about to make breakfast, but I’m sure Vlad will enjoy this, as well.”
“Whose cars are in the driveway?” Claud asked as they all returned to the kitchen. She stopped short at the sight of Colton, Malcolm, and Noah gathered around the island. Mack was still on the floor with the cat.
“I know you,” Claud said, pointing at Colton. “You’re that country singer Vlad hangs out with. Cat Whaler or whatever.”
Mack and Noah laughed into their coffee mugs. Colton tipped the brim of his nonexistent hat and winked. “Cat Whaler, at your service.”
“I hated your last song. It was vulgar.”
“I do aim to please, ma’am.”
“Ma!” Linda said, rushing forward. “Be nice.”
“Don’t mind her,” Elena said to Colton. “She’s just mad that someone turned her hair into snakes.”
Malcolm and Mack exchanged grins.
“Coffee?” Elena asked to no one in particular.
“Thank you,” Linda said. “We can get it ourselves.”
“Well, I am Andrea Sampson,” Andrea said, setting the quiche on the counter. She held out her hand to Colton. “And I’m a huge fan of yours.”
Colton picked up her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure, darlin’.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Claud scoffed. “She got hit on last night at Silver Sneakers. Now she thinks she’s Brigitte fucking Bardot.”
“Who is Brigitte Bardot?” Noah asked.
Claud hissed through her teeth as she accepted a cup of coffee from Linda. Then she plunked down on a stool at the island and muttered something about goddamned millennials.
Elena returned to the pancake dough and began to roll it into individual cakes. “What is Silver Sneakers?”
“Aerobics for people whose joints crack in the morning,” Linda said.
“Hey, I took that class by accident once,” Colton said. “It kicked my ass.”
“How did you take it by accident?” Malcolm asked.
“I had the times wrong. I thought I was going into Six-Pack Abs. I was super confused when all these old ladies walked in. I was too embarrassed to walk out.”
“Old ladies?” Claud scoffed.
“It’s a compliment,” Colton said. “They ran circles around me. I’ve had a thing for older women ever since then, to be honest.” He winked again at Andrea, who preened and smiled.
Elena carried the dough cakes to the stove and heated a skillet with oil. Claud snorted. “What’re you making?”
“Syrniki,” Elena said. “Russian cheese pancakes. Do you know what pancakes are?”
Claud muttered under her breath, and Elena could’ve sworn something crawled up the back of her neck.
Elena set each cake in the skillet and put on the cover. They needed about five to seven minutes on each side to get puffy. As they cooked, she walked to the fridge and pulled out sour cream and blueberries for toppings. Probably only she and Vlad would use those. In the pantry, she found powdered sugar and syrup for everyone else.
“So, Elena,” Noah said in a tone that conveyed some kind of preplanned speech. “The guys and I were talking, and we’d like to help out as much as possible. Maybe put together a meal schedule or help out with his rehab appointments—”
Claud snorted. “Why are you talking to her about it? She’s leaving again in a few days.”
Elena lifted the cover of the skillet and flipped the pancakes. “I’m not, actually. I’m staying for as long as he needs me.”
Claud sputtered like a rusty tractor. “You can’t stay.”
“Why not?” Elena replaced the lid. About five more minutes, and they’d be done.
“Because . . . because. You can’t. He needs to move on with his life, and he can’t do that with you here.”
Elena turned quickly so no one could see the reaction on her face.
“Ma!” Linda snapped.
“Well, now, that was downright harsh,” Colton said in a deceptively dulcet tone.
Elena busied herself with gathering plates from the cupboard. She heard Mack rise from the floor.
“Seems to me it should be up to Vlad to decide whether he wants Elena here or not,” Mack said, “and he’s agreed to it.”
“Do you even know how to cook, girl?” Claud grumbled.
Elena shot Claud an are you serious? look over her shoulder.
“Anyone can make pancakes,” Claud said dismissively.
“I’ve been cooking since my mother died when I was nine,” Elena said, setting the plates on the island so everyone could get their own. “Vlad’s mother taught me how to make all of his favorites. I don’t suppose you know to make pirozhki? Or maybe kholodets or Pozharsky cutlets?”
As she spoke, the guys did that talk-with-their-eyes thing again.
Elena returned to the stove and turned off the burner. Then she piled the finished syrniki on a platter. “You are all welcome to eat with us,” she said, setting it next to the stack of plates. “I’m going to go wake up Vlad.”
Neighbor Cat followed her upstairs. Vlad’s bedroom door was still partway open from when she’d checked on him after she woke up. She tiptoed inside and found him in the same position as this morning, which was the same position as when she’d checked on him last night. Flat on his back, leg propped up on the pillow, his head turned slightly to the left.
“Vlad,” she whispered, creeping up next to the bed. His breathing didn’t even change. “Vlad.” She said it louder, bending closer to him. He turned his face the other way with a deep breath. Dammit. Elena pressed her hand to his shoulder and gave it a small shake. “Vlad.”
His eyes flew open. “What? What’s wrong?”
Elena jumped back. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
He dragged a hand across his face. “No. I’m fine. What time is it?” He focused on her face then and rose up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“Your friends are here.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did they say something inappropriate?”
“What? No. But I think there’s going to be a food fight with the Loners.”
“They are all here?”
“Yes, and I swear Claud just put a hex on me.”
The corner of Vlad’s mouth curled up in a tired smile as he reached a hand up to rub his whiskers, which had grown overnight officially into a beard—the wild, unkempt kind—but the ruggedness was offset by the tired softness of his eyes. Neighbor Cat leaped onto the bed, rubbed against him, and began to purr. Elena couldn’t blame her. If she had a chance to curl up next to Vlad, she’d probably purr too.
Vlad absently scratched the cat’s ears.
“Does this one have a name?” Elena asked.
“Angel. She lives across the street.”
“She was in your bed this morning.”
A powerful yawn split his mouth wide, and he stretched his arms high over his head as he sat. “She is a good girl,” he said. “One of my favorites.”
As if Vlad had ever met an animal he didn’t like.
He swung his legs off the bed and nodded self-consciously to the bathroom. “I need to, um . . .”
Oh, right. Bathroom stuff. All over the world, other married couples were perfectly unembarrassed about nature’s calling, but Elena’s cheeks blazed like she’d just stuck her head in a pizza oven. She handed him his crutches and hovered nearby as he slid one under each armpit.
“I’ll just wait out here?”
He avoided her gaze. “Sure.”
She turned away as he shuffled to the bathroom. He used the foot of his crutch to shut the door behind him. Moments later, the toilet flushed and then water splashed in the sink. It lasted for a minute, and she realized he was brushing his teeth.
She turned around when the door opened again. He came out looking roug
h and vulnerable at the same time. An insane, overwhelming urge to hug him nearly propelled her forward from her safe spot by the bedroom door. Instead, she backed up so he could pass by. She followed him to the stairs, and then he let her pretend to help by giving him an arm to hold as he went down on one leg. Not because he really needed the help, but probably because she’d yelled at him yesterday for coming down the stairs alone.
When he entered the kitchen, the guys all stood and greeted him with hugs and how are ya? and you look like shit. Which was not true. He looked the opposite of shit.
The Loners repeated the greetings with much nicer sentiments. Even Claud lost her scowl.
Andrea and Linda rose from their seats and practically ran to him. They each hugged him, and Elena met his eyes over Linda’s shoulder. He smiled tiredly at her, and Elena was momentarily distracted by the warm familiarity of it.
“Breakfast is done,” she said, heading back toward the stove. “Do you want some tea?”
“I’m good for now. Don’t rush around.” He crutched to a seat at the island. Mack and Noah got him settled and moved another stool closer so he could elevate his leg. Elena quickstepped to the freezer and removed one of the baggies of ice she’d filled last night. She grabbed a towel and returned to his side as he ripped open the Velcro straps.
“How is it this morning?” She leaned over him to study the incision. It was still reddish with green and purple bruising forming around it. She looked up. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Bruising is normal.” He reached for the ice and smiled when she handed it over.
“You’re sure? Maybe we should take a picture of it and send it to Madison.”
“If it gets worse by tonight, we can do that,” he said calmly.
“Maybe we should have iced it again last night.”
“It’s fine, Elena. Don’t worry.”
The silence in the kitchen suddenly became obvious. Elena looked up to find everyone watching with bemused expressions. Everyone but Claud, who looked murderous.
“What?” Elena asked.
“Nothing,” Colton said quickly. Too quickly. He met Malcolm’s eyes, and they both looked away. Those damn silent conversations were becoming really annoying.
Isn't It Bromantic? Page 11
