by Ally Adams
“And Alex, is that Russian?” I asked, frowning.
“Alexei,” Lana said, looking at her son.
I turned my eyes to him and grinned. And thus, I worked out how The Russian once got his nickname.
“Alexei, that’s beautiful,” I said.
The Russian winced. “Yeah, I’m starving,” he said, in a bad attempt to change the subject. His mother laughed.
“Come on then, let’s eat. Nikki, can you help me with the salads please? James, will you serve the stroganoff, Ana please top up our glasses, Tia if you can turn that music off and Brodie eat your dinner,” she said, directing the dog. “Alex, you make Carla feel at home.”
“Can I help at all?” I asked, following everyone into the large open plan kitchen and dining area.
“Yes please, Carla,” Lana said, “you can keep Alex away while we serve, so he doesn’t pick.”
“I’m always ganged up on here,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
“Come then, you can walk me through the photos and I’ll make sure you stay away from the plates.”
“This dinner was a bad idea,” he mumbled, following me back over to the wall of framed photos, not far from all the activity at the kitchen bench. He pulled me away from the photos of him and started at the end with the older family photos. The Russian photos from Lana’s side were severe – somber subjects looking into the camera, looking less than happy.
“Russia and its people have not had a happy history,” The Russian explained as he pointed out Lana’s parents.
“Is Lana a Russian name too? It doesn’t sound Russian?” I asked.
“It’s short for Svetlana,” he said. “And here’s Dad’s parents and grandparents.”
I looked at the subjects all suited up and the women with their hats and dresses covering every inch of their body.
The Russian pointed out a great shot of his parents on the crumbling Berlin Wall.
“That’s where my parents met. Mom was traveling around Europe, Dad was there working as an engineer.”
I loved watching The Russian as he told me about his family. His deep voice warming me, his strong presence beside me sending sparks through my whole body.
The Russian’s father piped in from the open plan kitchen. “I had only been qualified a few years, but the company I was working for won a contract to do a project in Berlin,” he said. “The moment I saw Lana on the wall, waving her banner, it was love at first sight. I wasn’t going back to the States without her, and luckily she was so charmed by me that she agreed.”
Lana blushed and shook her head at him. Yep, like father like son.
“Did you love him at first sight too, Mom?” Tia asked.
“Of course, you know that story,” she said, shutting the discussion down. Clearly Lana wasn’t one for expressing emotions out loud.
“Did you love Alex at first sight Carla?” Tia said, turning to me.
“Tia!” Her mother shook her head.
“Of course she did, she’s smitten,” The Russian said to Tia. His two other sisters Ana and Nikki groaned, and I laughed.
“He is handsome,” Tia said, smiling up at her big brother with a look of adoration.
“Very handsome,” Alex agreed and she giggled.
I moved to the next set of photos. “And look at that cutie.” There was a great shot of his parents out the front of what must have been their first house, holding baby Alex, along with a series of shots of the four children from school days all the way through.
“Yeah, I was a cute kid, not much has changed,” The Russian agreed.
“Alexei, you were a beautiful boy,” his mother agreed, embarrassing him this time. “Ladies on the street would stop me to look at you.”
“You should have stopped at perfection then,” he said, teasing his sisters.
“They did,” Nikki added. “One boy broke the mold. After that, Mom and Dad only wanted girls, far less trouble.” She made a face at her brother.
Lana placed the large dish of steaming stroganoff in the center of the table and James began to serve it. Next to her Russian specialty, she placed some homemade corn bread. Nikki followed with two large bowls of salad. I was ravenous and it looked delicious.
“Please be seated,” Lana said, and The Russian pulled out a chair for me and then sat himself down beside me. The table was nicely set with a navy blue tablecloth and white dinner set. The family didn’t say grace like my family always did, but I said my own few words privately. Then the bowls began to fly around the table.
“This is wonderful Lana, thank you. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since I went home after last season.”
“We’ve checked you out,” Nikki piped up, “you’re an amazing basketball player. You could beat Alex at it.”
“I’d hope so,” Alex said, “since I play soccer.”
“Thank you,” I said, sheepishly. “Although this is my last season.”
“That’s sad about your injury,” Ana agreed. “Do you have a degree to fall back on?” I noticed Ana—the eldest daughter—glanced at her parents as she said this ... given she was college age, I suspected there had been some debate about her continuing on to study.
I nodded in the affirmative. “I’m a qualified journalist. I’m doing some sports reporting at the moment, including reporting the Saints games.”
“Always good to have a qualification behind you that you can fall back on,” James added in the way you’d expect parents to do and with a glance to Ana.
“Yes, that’s what my father says,” I added. “What are you studying, Ana ... I’m guessing you’re at college?”
“Law,” she said, “but I’m only in my first year.”
“That will be very handy, especially for Alex with his contract,” I said.
“If she hurries up and gets enough skills to be useful,” he said, teasing her. “At the rate Ana’s going, my career will be over before graduation.”
“Alex won’t be able to afford me, but I’d love to do sports law, particularly basketball contracts,” she threw back at him with a grin.
I felt so at home even though the family was three times the size of my small family unit. Lana asked about my family and James asked about my remaining basketball season. The Russian looked at me with what looked like pride on his face ... like we were boyfriend and girlfriend and he was proud of me. I wondered when we’d officially become that.
I smiled and looked away before I self-combusted with passion and desire, and set the table on fire at the same time. His hand touched my knee under the table and I swear I nearly shot up to the roof. Luckily Tia was holding court at the time and no one noticed. Then she turned her attention back to me.
“Will you marry Alex?” she asked.
Everyone laughed, except Lana.
“Tia, what did I tell you about asking personal questions?” Lana asked her daughter.
“That it’s rude and I am not to do it,” Tia said, with a sigh again.
“That is correct. Apologize to Carla please,” Lana said.
“Sorry Carla. But I want to be a flower girl ... if you marry Alex, have you got a little sister or will you need a flower girl?”
“I will need one if I ask your brother to marry me,” I teased.
“But he has to ask you!” she said.
Her mother gave me a smile that said she approved of a strong, independent woman.
“Not anymore,” Ana told her little sister, “girls can ask anyone we like.”
“But I’ll be doing the asking,” The Russian said, going all alpha on me.
“So if Carla asks you, you’d say no?” Ana studied him.
The Russian nodded and I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “But then I’d ask her right back straight away,” he said. “And probably do a better job of it.”
“You are such a big head,” I said with a smile, shaking my head at him.
Tia giggled. “So I can ask a boy to marry me!” She sounded way too excited about it, like she had s
omeone in mind.
“When you are grown up and I’ve approved of them,” Alex added. “Speaking of which, Dad tells me you’ve started seeing someone from College, Ana ... when do I get to meet him?”
I chuckled beside him at his overprotective ways.
Ana smirked at him. “I think that’s Dad’s job, Alex, and he’s met Tyler.”
“I’m happy for Alex to take over the role,” his father said. “They might be more worried about the consequences of not looking after my daughters then.”
“There you go,” Alex said, grabbing the serving dish of stroganoff, offering it to me first and then helping himself to seconds. “What does this Tyler character do?”
“I’m not telling you,” she said. “I may let you meet him at some point and time. Actually, he was keen for tickets to your next home game ...”
“Ah, well that’s easily done,” Alex said.
“Thanks,” Ana grinned at her brother.
“Once I’ve checked him out and approved him.”
She groaned. “Did your brother check out Alex, Carla?” she asked me.
“I don’t have a brother, but Dad’s yet to meet Alex. My dad’s a reverend,” I said.
“Lord help us,” James added and I giggled beside him. “Your father’s got his work cut out for him with Alex.”
“Miracles do happen,” I said, and Alex gave me a look that said he was unimpressed. Ha!
“Don’t worry Son, I’m really on your side,” James said. “I’ll tell you how I won over your mother’s father, and he was a very fearsome Russian politician.”
“My father died before you met him,” Lana said.
“And that’s how it’s done,” James said and we all laughed. Lana shook her head at him. I could see where The Russian’s dry humor came from.
“Nikki’s just broken up with her boyfriend,” Tia said.
We all turned to look at Nikki who then got a bit teary eyed. I heard The Russian groan ... I don’t think he was comfortable with tears.
“Shoosh Tia,” Nikki snapped at her.
“Don’t worry, Nikki,” The Russian said. “Whoever he was, he’s clearly a loser with no taste, and you were too good for him.”
She gave her brother a grateful smile.
“Hear, hear,” her Dad agreed.
“Anyway, you’re too young at fourteen to have a serious boyfriend, Nikki,” her mother said.
“How old were you when you got your first boyfriend, Carla?” Nikki asked me, as she wiped her eyes.
“I’m the wrong one to ask,” I said. “Boys were scared to ask me out because my dad was the reverend; you know, he might send them to hell or something, so no one asked me out for years and years.”
Tia lightened the mood that she had previously darkened. “Want to play Twister after dinner, Carla?” she asked, putting the spotlight back on herself.
Oh yes I did, but a private game only with The Russian.
I shook my head. “I have to warn you Tia, I am very, very good at Twister because I am hugely tall. My legs stretch easily from the green dots to the pink dots and I can still reach the blue dot at the far end with my hand while stretched out.”
Tia took this in, biting her lip as she thought.
“Are you any good at Monopoly?” she asked.
“Carla has to go straight home after dinner unfortunately, because her handsome date has to be at training at six in the morning,” The Russian told his little sister. “But next time we come over, I’ll find out what she’s not good at and let you know,” he said with a wink in her direction. She clumsily returned his wink – so cute.
I was in a mixed state of euphoria ... there was going to be a next time, but probably not a bed session with The Russian that night ... man, my hand was going to drop off if I had to perform any more functions on myself while picturing Alex in the act. I wasn’t even at deep kiss stage with him yet – what would it take to get laid by The Russian, even an intimate kiss, for crying in a bucket?
*****
On the way back to The Russian’s place, where I had left my car, The Russian looked over at me and smiled.
“Well you were a hit,” he said. “Mom really likes you.”
“That’s kind of her,” I said, “I really liked your family, too. Thank you for taking me to meet them.”
“She’ll give me a hard time now about making sure I follow you up and do the right thing, and she’ll be giving me all the reasons I should be seeing you or someone like you ...” he said, thinking out loud.
I was a bit taken aback. So, was this a good thing or a bad thing? Did he want to be encouraged to see me or was that going to be a pain in the butt?
“You sound like someone your mother likes wouldn’t be someone you would want to date,” I said, after a few moments.
He glanced at me with a look of surprise as if he hadn’t meant to say all that out loud.
The Russian turned his eyes back to the road. “I just meant that ... um, she’s only met a couple of my female friends over the years and she never liked my ex-girlfriend.”
“Leesa?” I asked.
“Yeah. She didn’t like her from day one when Leesa and I met at school ... always said she was a spoilt troublemaker, and Mom was right, but still ... I just meant that she’s got a look at you and is probably breathing a huge sigh of relief.”
“Oh well, she may change her mind when she gets to know me better,” I said.
The Russian glanced over, gave me a frown and looked away again.
“Why would you say that? Are you hiding something?” he asked.
“No,” I laughed. “I was just kidding. What would I be hiding?” I think I had tread on very dangerous ground there, I could almost feel The Russian bristling beside me. I wished I had known something about The Russian to be a bit forewarned ... no one seemed to know him. Sasha could tell me how dry his sense of humor was and how all the office girls liked him, but she didn’t know a thing about The Russian in love other than he and Leesa had seemed so unsuited ... had he been hurt to the point of no return? Was he a terrible flirt? Did he treat women well? All I knew was what I had read about his ex-girlfriend and her high profile party life which hadn’t told me much except he had been part of it or had tolerated it.
I looked over at him as he seemed to be thinking about my comments and after a few minutes, he pulled himself out of whatever dark thoughts he was having. He looked at me and smiled.
“Sorry, I guess you could call me gun-shy. I’ve had years and years of relationship lies and games ... I’m not up for it anymore, I’m trained to be suspicious. If we, you know, get serious ... do you believe in monogamy?”
I turned to look at him front on. Did I give some indication that I slept around?
“Are you seriously asking me this?”
“Sorry,” he said. He ran a hand over his face. For a normally laid back guy, the Russian was sweating it.
“If you need to hear it, then yes, I am a one-man woman. Good grief, just because you sporting guys tart around and get offered plenty of skirt, don’t assume the sporting women sleep around as well.” Wow, how did this conversation go so off track?
We pulled into his street and he breathed out a sigh of frustration. I could almost hear his brain ticking, trying to work out how he had gotten himself into this situation and how to get himself out of it.
I was also a bit cranky by then; he’d ruined a good night with silly comments. I know he didn’t know me that well, but from my upbringing, from our talks, from my actions towards him, did he really think I was the flirty, sleep around type? That I was just hanging with him for a quick roll in the sack? And was it so bad that his mother liked me, or might give him a hard time to follow me up? How insulting.
“Carla ...” he started, after pulling his car past my parked car on the curb side, and into his driveway.
I cut him off. “Hey, thanks again for taking me to meet your family, and I hope your mother doesn’t give you too much of a hard ti
me about having to like me,” I said, quoting him back. I opened the door and was out before he had his seatbelt off.
For a big guy who professes to be slow, he moved pretty quickly, intercepting me before I got to the back of his car. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
“Hey, I’ve insulted you somewhere along the line there and I didn’t mean to ...” he said, looking down on me.
I shook my head. “It’s all good, really. Anyway, you’ve got training early, so thanks again.” I pulled away. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”
Men! I’m not interested in being a prospect just because I’m different from Leesa; and do I look like I’m a charity case that is looking for a date? Well, I am, but I’m not desperate, I’ve got my stalkers.
He walked down the driveway following me, only a few inches behind me; he said my name again and was clearly uncomfortable with handling an emotional female. “Carla, stop, please.”
I turned around to face him.
“About training, I just said that so we could leave after dinner and not have to stay all night. I have got training early, but that doesn’t mean you have to rush off,” he said. “Come up for a while.”
I’ve always had too much pride, and now I was cutting off my own nose to spite my face. Since the day I had met The Russian, I’d been dreaming of getting closer to him, tasting those lips. Now, I just wanted to smack him – he really was an arrogant, insensitive ass.
“No, I’ve got an early start too. Another time, huh?” I said, throwing the comment over my shoulder as I continued my walk to my car. But as long as my strides were, The Russian’s were longer and he beat me there, opening my car door for me. I lowered myself into the front seat, started the engine and the sexy beast he was, lowered himself down to squat next to me in the open car doorway.
“Brooker, I’m a bit rusty at dating,” he said, “I’d been with my last girlfriend since school, and anyone since has just been ... well, short-lived by mutual agreement. You’ll have to cut me some slack,” he said, with the hint of a smile. He looked divine squatting there in front of me, his dark eyes scanning my face, his muscular arm resting on the steering wheel.
