by Lizzy Ford
“Can you ice skate?” Petr asks in a lighter tone.
“No.”
“I’ll teach you.”
I start to smile, giddy at the idea of spending the weekend with him.
An hour later, we’re out of bed and walking hand in hand through the mansion. He stops me to sneak kisses, and I hug him readily, unable to take my hands off him when we’re so close. Some of the houseguests are up while the majority are either still in bed on the snowy Christmas morning or congregating in the common rooms.
We head out back only to find another foot of snow blocking the ice rink. Petr pauses beside a blazing bonfire on the veranda, and we gaze out over the snow-covered backyard.
“I’ll never get used to the cold,” I complain and shiver.
His arms encircle me instinctively, and I lean back against him, enjoying his warmth. “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing at all. Where are you from originally?” he asks.
“Florida and Texas. Grew up around Dallas and moved to Miami after my father died,” I reply.
“You plan on returning there now that The Monster is gone?”
“I plan on being wherever you are. Are you stationed here or … does it work that way?” I ask.
“Sort of. I pretty much have my choice of assignment,” he says. “The military gave me a choice to leave at any point. They don’t normally keep guys like me who can’t qualify as mission ready. Baba pulled a few strings with old friends for me to remain, and I’m on restricted duty as a recruiter.”
“You really love it.”
“I do. My family has a history of public service, and this is what I want to do. I love being close to home after about eight years away from home. Baba is getting older, too, so I help out with the family foundations now that Katya moved away to be with Sawyer. I figure I’ll stick around here until I retire.”
I consider the snow. It’s a small price to pay to be near Petr.
“You okay with all that?” It sounds like he’s trying to joke, but there’s a serious note in his voice.
“Completely. I want you to be happy, Petr, and from what I can tell, you are,” I reply. “I … I guess I have to figure out what to do with my life now. I hadn’t thought about it in the past four years.”
“You’ve got a terrific skill with graphics. Baba would hire you in a heartbeat to work for our foundations.”
A flutter of anxiety, or maybe excitement, races through me. Petr’s talking like me being here with him is permanent. I kinda love the idea.
“How about, instead of ice skating, we grab some coffee and fill in the blanks about each other’s lives?” he suggests. “Favorite colors, movies, whatever.”
“And cuddle,” I add.
“Yeah. I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”
And he doesn’t. The next four days are sheer bliss. We talk, mingle with his family and Todd, make love every chance we have, and wake up giggling about the new positions we tried. If I’d ever imagined a perfect weekend, it would fail miserably to stack up to our perfect weekend. Petr rarely leaves my side, and when he’s with me, we’re constantly touching. The shadow and fear are gone by Sunday night, lifted from a combination of Simon’s news and the miracle of Petr.
Monday morning, I get up early to go to work as usual. He appears with a tray of breakfast, his hair tousled and his chest bare. I reach for him automatically after he sets it down, the need to be in contact with his warm skin consuming and far too compelling to resist.
He hugs me. I breathe in his scent and rest my cheek against his chest.
“Todd’s up. The driver took him to school,” he reports and nuzzles my cheek. “You sure I can’t convince you to stay?”
“You can. But you shouldn’t,” I say with a laugh. I kiss him, a long, lingering kiss. His hands go around me. “I know we have us. I need to figure out a few more things for myself, like … how I’ll transition to doing what I want, whether I should go back to school. That kind of stuff.”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“I know, Petr.” I draw away. “But … I need my own independence still. I can’t rely on you for that.”
“I understand,” he replies. “Say the word, and Baba can create a spot for you on the payroll doing graphics work.”
I hesitate. I know how serious he is, and it thrills me. I also need some space to determine my own fate.
“Think it over.” He speaks before I can say the words. He squeezes my bottom and pulls me against his hips. “I’ll wait. As long as you plan on coming home tonight?”
Home. I could get used to his home being mine. I’m not sure how appropriate it is yet. Our relationship is just beginning, no matter how incredible it feels. Yet the thought of spending the night anywhere where he’s not has absolutely no appeal.
“Yes. If that’s okay,” I murmur. “I don’t think we’ll both fit in my twin bed.”
“We could make it work.” His eyes sparkle. He tucks hair behind one of my ears. “Want me to drive you in?”
I nod. I don’t want to go anywhere at the moment, but I’m not leaving my job until I have a better life plan. No matter what, it’ll include Petr. He pulls on a sweatshirt. I sigh, missing his chiseled upper body already.
With our arms around one another, we walk through the quiet mansion to the front, where his truck is parked and running already. We hold hands even in the vehicle. Imagining how long my day will feel until I see him again pains me, and I want to laugh at myself for being head over heels for him already.
“This was the best weekend of my life,” I say when he stops in front of the diner. “Thank you, Petr.”
He kisses the back of my hand. “It’s the beginning, Claudia. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” And I love it. Leaning forward, I kiss him once more. He cups my cheeks with his hands and deepens the kiss. I almost melt then and there at his taste. I crave his flavor, his touch, his scent all over my body.
He leans away, breathing hard. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“I know.” My hand slides down his hard abs to the bulge of his erection. “Tonight,” I promise with a grin.
“Damn right.” He smiles back. “Go. Before I drive us home and spend another day making love to you.”
My god … I want that so much. Heart soaring, stomach fluttering, and blood racing too fast for me to feel the cold, I hop out of the truck and float to the diner, turning to wave when I reach the door.
He waves back.
I walk in, a grinning happy fool.
Eileen eyes me from her place behind the counter. The normal crowd is present, about four regulars. I don’t feel quite capable of my normal concentration anyway and am grateful the Christmas rush is over. My hands tremble when I pull off my coat and swap snow boots for flats in the staff section.
Todd’s schedule is in my apron, along with the business card Petr gave me on our first meeting. I check Todd’s calendar to see it empty for this evening. Automatically, I calculate what time he should be home after leaving school.
And then stop to debate. Simon said The Monster would be arrested today. I guess I should assume that means by the usual close of business hours, around five or six. Today is the last instance I’ll have to time Todd getting home.
It doesn’t seem real.
“Have a good Christmas?” Eileen asks when I emerge.
“Best ever.”
“Looks like it.”
I make a face at her. She smiles and returns to the crossword puzzle she’s doing in the slow morning. Checking on the regulars, I move behind the counter and pull a sheet off the ticket pad.
My thoughts go briefly to my mother, and I resolve to call her tonight, after work. Simon’s warning about not jumping the gun is at the back of my mind. I purposely didn’t call her this past weekend for that reason. I ache to talk to her in depth for the first time in four years, to tell her where I am, how well Todd is doing, and about Petr.
I quell the urge
and focus on the paper.
What I want to do with my life, I write. I sit, staring at the otherwise blank paper, cross out the starter sentence, and decide to do some brainstorming. The list eventually is named My Ideal Life.
Todd and Petr are the first two people I place on it, followed by a few of the skills I’ve picked up over the years. Waitressing is present, along with graphic design. Anton’s projects reminded me of why I got into design in the first place, because I love the creativity the field allows. I have an artist’s eye but not the ability to draw well.
I make two lists for what I want in my ideal life, tear up one and start a third. The only two constants are Todd and Petr. I can’t feel upset, not after the incredible weekend that’s left me sated, sore and exhilarated about the most important part of my life.
Sitting back around midmorning, I realize I don’t really need to know today, either. It’s not like I’m leaving town tomorrow and have to choose a new life. I have time to figure it out.
Except … I’m anxious to catch up. I’ve got over four years to make up for missing time.
Preoccupied, I spend the better part of the day in pensive quiet. The business at the diner is slow enough that my journeys into my thoughts aren’t a problem. I go through another five pieces of paper before resigning myself to the idea I’m not ready to figure it out yet.
Todd texts around three when he’s off school and headed home. I glance at my phone to start the mental calculation about when he’ll be home. With snow, it’ll take a little longer for him to walk, so I’m guessing by four. I’m not too worried. By six, I’ll feel relatively certain Simon’s prediction of The Monster being in jail by the end of the day will be true. I’ll check in with the attorney when I get home tonight then call my mom and let her know, if she doesn’t already.
My evening plans are already set with Petr. The images in my head, coupled with the memories of his touch, make me sigh aloud.
It’s dark by four. I text Todd to ask if he’s home yet, and his response is a single word: almost. My excitement is growing about the end of the day, and I find it harder than usual to wait on people when I’m jittery, anticipating seeing Petr again.
“Hey, Claudia, you have a call,” the second shift waitress calls from the phone located beneath the counter, near the entrance to the kitchen.
“Be right there!” I finish taking the order for the table where I am and then move away, checking the time. It’s about four thirty. Assuming it’s Petr, since I didn’t think to give him my number, I accept the phone from her. “Hey, this is Claudia!” I say cheerfully.
“Hey, Claud.”
I freeze. Every muscle in my body tenses, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
“Nice place. Didn’t think you like the snow,” Jake says.
His voice slides through me, pries open the lid of the box where my fear has gone, and places my chest in a vise.
“A little birdy tipped me off about the arrest. Fortunately, I was able to leave town in time.”
“How did you find me?” I whisper hoarsely, turning my back to the dining area.
“Same little birdy. Todd called home on Christmas.” He chuckles. “Always calls his grandma like a good boy. You know her phone’s been tapped for a while.”
Shit. I rack my mind and realize I told Todd the news about The Monster being put away – but didn’t warn him against calling home until it was done. Dread and guilt sink into me, and I realize I screwed up one last time.
“You seen Todd today?” he asks casually. “I have. Going to pick him up now.”
“Stay away from him, Jake!” I snap.
“Not until we make things right between us,” The Monster says calmly. “Look out the front door.”
My stomach twisting, I manage to move my stiff body to face the door.
The Monster is outside, his lean form bathed in the light of the sign near the door.
It’s him. He’s here. There’s no mistaking the face that’s haunted my dreams for four years.
“Fine,” I choke out the words. “Let’s finish this between you and me. Leave him out of it.”
“If I thought I could trust you, maybe.” He moves away from the doorway.
I squint and move closer, watching him get into a car. Seconds later, the taillights glow red, illuminating the new fallen snow.
“Race you home,” he says with a low laugh. “Whoever gets there first gets Todd.”
“You don’t know where we live.”
“Apartment B, four thirteen Grove Street.” He hangs up.
This can’t be happening. Frozen in place, I watch his taillights exit the diner’s parking lot.
From nightmare to fairytale to nightmare again. I can hardly breathe, and my only thoughts are on Todd and what happened the last time The Monster got a hold of my brother.
All but dropping the phone on the counter, I fish my cell out of my apron and dial Todd. He doesn’t answer, so I text him with fingers shaking so badly, the spell check can’t keep up with me. “Please be with Petr. Please be with Petr,” I whisper, struggling to maintain my composure while typing. I have no reason to think he is. It’s sheer desperation.
When I’m finished, I shove the door into the kitchen at full speed and dart to my locker. Whipping off the apron, I pause, eyes remaining on its crumbled form at the bottom of my locker.
Petr. If anyone can help me get Todd back, it’s Petr.
Without a second thought, I bend and yank out his card with trembling fingers and dial his number. There’s no answer, and I leave a message in such a breathless haste, I’m not sure what I say. I pull on snow boots, grab my coat, and then run.
Bursting out of the kitchen first and then the diner, I sprint, slipping and sliding in the snow and ice. The air soon grows too cold to breath and my vision blurred from tears and snow, but I push on, running with all my strength towards the apartment building seven blocks from the diner.
“Please be with … Petr. Please be … with Petr,” I repeat over and over. I slam to my knees more than once, stand up, and continue, unable to think of anything but the memory of Todd sobbing in The Monster’s arms with a knife at his throat. “Please … god … let him be with … Petr!”
Chapter Nineteen: Petr
Katya and I sit in the warm study where Baba spends a lot of his time either reading or managing business affairs. I’m nervous, but I don’t exactly know why. Sawyer is present, seated away from the three of us, listening quietly.
The four days with Claudia hit me like a shotgun blast. Not that I didn’t think she’d be the most incredible gift I’d ever be humbled enough to receive, but because she was so much more. It’s left me rattled, a little worried I’m missing something crucial without my mind in the right gear, and generally overwhelmed.
Four days, and I can’t stand the idea of so much as a weekend apart. Four days, and I’m questioning my sanity, because the emotions are far too intense when it comes to her. I prefer to act, not feel but I’m at a standstill. I thought her walls disappearing between us would make this easier, that sleeping with her would soothe the fire inside me instead of stoking it even higher.
My expectations and the reality are so different, I can’t quite fathom how to handle it. Unable to think straight, I do what I always have: I turn to my family. If Mikael were here, I’d be sitting with him.
Katya is smiling. “How long have you know her?” she asks.
“Almost two months.”
From the wicked spark in her eye, I know she’s dying to say something I probably don’t want to hear.
“I knew your mother three weeks,” Baba reminds me.
“Technically you kidnapped her,” I point out, familiar with the story of how my wealthy heiress of a mother fell into the presence of a rough-and-tumble KGB officer in Russia.
“Your mother exaggerated the story. She forced me to marry her. I was ready to let her go.”
I laugh, and Katya rolls her eyes. Our mother had a temper worse
than Katya’s, and I suspect Baba is right about the story growing over time.
“She’s not a bitch, but that’s about all I know,” Katya says somewhat reluctantly. It’s a lot coming from her, and I understand I’ll never receive a rave recommendation from my territorial sister about any woman I’m serious about.
“Your judgment is always spot on about people, Petr,” Sawyer, the voice of reason, says from his spot observing. “What does your gut say?”
All of them are quiet, watching me. “That’s the issue. All I have is my gut telling me to pull a Baba and kidnap her,” I joke.
“It is not kidnapping if you end up married,” Baba replies defensively.
“Shouldn’t there be something else?” I press. “A little voice that tells me to think it over, to consider this, that and the other? I was with Brianna off and on for years, and I never got the green light from my gut.”
“There’s your answer,” Katya says. “Brianna was sleeping with Mikael and you and god knows who else.”
“Let us test your gut.” Baba stands and crosses to his desk. “Come, Petr.”
“Baba, he needs more than a coin toss!” Katya objects.
“Stay, Katya.”
I snort and rise, following my father to his desk.
“When Katya married Sawyer, she gave him your grandfather’s wedding ring to welcome him to the family,” my father starts. “You remember?”
“Of course.”
“I was saving this for Mikael, since he was the older of you boys.” Baba pulls a small, velvet jewelry pouch from his desk. “To test your gut. Answer the question: does this change your mind?”
“Are you flipping rare coins this time?” I smile, familiar with his techniques for helping us make decisions as kids. Whatever our intuition told us when the coin’s face was revealed was the truth, according to Baba.
“Not coins.” He dumps the contents of the pouch into his hand and closes his fist before I can see it. “What is the question?”
“I got it, Baba,” I say, amused. “Does this change my mind. We’ve played this game for years.”
