by D. A. Young
Holt’s life would not be theirs. It would be full and purposeful, well-intentioned, and of his own design. Filled with babies that looked like their lovely mama. He would teach them everything about woodworking and build a legacy of love and laughter with his family.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. “How about we start with one and practice until we get to four?”
Kat gave a long-suffering sigh that belied her playful grin. “I suppose I could be persuaded to try things your way.”
“Damned straight. I need to get goin’. We’ve got orders comin’ out of our ears, and me and the boys planned to be in by six in the mornin’. Care to meet me at the shop for lunch? We can go tree shoppin’ afterward?”
“Deal. I’ve got an order to complete as well.” Kat’s fingers nimbly tied her corset’s bow. “Holt…are you sure—”
Holt cupped her chin and kissed her briefly. “Don’t borrow trouble, darlin’. Everythin’ will be fine.”
Kat leaned her shoulder against the closed door. “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”
Holt’s jaw clenched and his chest tightened at her weighty question, his insides turning icy with fear. The sudden pulse-pounding behind his eyes made them squint and his spiking blood pressure had Holt loosening his tie, about to lose his shit.
“No.” The single word reply was all he could manage for now. Losing Katerina wasn’t a fucking option. It was an unbearable possibility Holt refused to face. He’d waited too long for the only woman in the world to ever touch his heart. If she was suffering from doubt, he’d do his best to eradicate her misgivings. “Do you?”
“About you, no,” Kat assured him, and the iciness thawed slightly. “What overwhelms me at times is how intensely I feel for you. I’ve felt like that from the beginning, and it’s only gaining momentum. I’m blown away by the complexity of how much I need you. To see and feel you, hear your voice and laugh and feel your touch…to simply try and hold you tighter to me.”
Her helpless smile pierced Holt’s heart and he slowly nodded his understanding. A love like theirs wasn’t for the simple or faint of heart. It had dismantled their souls and fused them together, leaving no room for resistance or barriers, completely consuming them.
“As I said, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, darlin’. You’re not in this alone. This is all new to me, too. I don’t know how not to go a hundred miles an hour with you, Kat. Just know that I won’t ever take us for granted.”
She slid her hand into Holt’s, relieved that he understood. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to. That’s not how you and I are doin’ life, babe.”
***
After parting ways with Holt, Kat headed to the first-floor guest bathroom to straighten up. She tried to put her misgivings aside about his family’s arrival, wanting to trust in her man. After all, he’d given her his word. Unfortunately, her gut kept flip-flopping. Kat pushed the door open and discovered the lounge area was already occupied. Pearl Mignon was sitting on the settee, nursing a martini.
“Hey, hon,” she slurred, letting Kat know that it wasn’t her first alcoholic beverage of the night. The Creole beauty’s eyes were red-rimmed, her eyeliner and mascara smeared. She’d obviously been crying. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing here for a spell.” Raising the glass, she downed the gold liquid in one gulp. “Just needed a little ‘me’ time.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Kat leaned against the wall and gestured to the empty glass. “What are you drinking to?”
Pearl studied the glass and a giggle erupted followed by a small belch. “Whoops! Excuse me! We are drinking to being a good woman no matter what life throws at us! You feel me?”
“I can get behind that sentiment,” Kat co-signed, nodding approvingly.
“When I first entered the world of mixology, men didn’t take me seriously. All they saw were a pair of tits and a round ass to grope on. They didn’t give a damn about me making a mean-ass Commonwealth cocktail!” She squinted at Kat and scoffed, “That motherfucker has seventy-one ingredients that are found from countries all over the world!”
Pearl held up both hands and unsteadily rattled off some of them. “Tanzanian cloves, Guyanese sugar cane, Belizean dragon fruit, prickly pear from Namibia, New Zealand honey, okra from Jamaica, and saffron from Pakistan, to name a few of them! Not a one of them assholes even knew about fat-washing, Kat!”
“I’m afraid that I have no clue what it is either, Pearl,” Kat replied apologetically.
“Basically, it’s a messy, time-consuming infusion. It’s applied in an Empellón Cocina cocktail, which uses fat drippings from a rack of slow-cooked pork ribs. Add an equal amount of Mezcal to the mix; let it sit in the freezer overnight, strain, and voila!”
Pearl’s finger traced the rim, lips curled in a triumphant snarl. “Don’t even get me started on the four types of chilies that need to be toasted, dried, and soaked in water for at least an hour until they are rehydrated. Draining comes next then discarding the soaking liquid.” With a toss of her disheveled, brown waves, Pearl thumped her chest defiantly. “And I did it all perfectly! The only female in that entire contest and I was the only one left standing at the end! I earned my show “Mixing It Up” by busting my ass!”
Winded, she leaned back on the settee and covered her face. Her body shook as she laughed hysterically.
Kat came forward and sat down next to her. “Congratulations, Pearl. That’s quite an accomplishment. You deserve it.”
Pearl dropped her hands, revealing sad eyes swimming in tears. “I really did, you know? I was asked to judge contests, contribute to Imbibe magazine and Wine & Spirits, too, along with blogs and podcasts! You know what I got more than all of my accomplishments combined in my entire career?”
Kat reached behind her and grabbed the marble tissue holder. She plucked one out and offered it to the mixologist. “Tell me, Pearl.”
“Propositioned!” she spat, leaning toward Kat, wobbling marginally. “No man ever cared more for my brain than they did my pussy! Even my dead husband only wanted a trophy wife to whip out like a new toy, only to put me back on the shelf until his next company event!”
Good grief. Pearl was a retrograde mess. If her mama even caught wind of her meltdown at their holiday party, Kat knew Vivienne would shake and stir Pearl up faster than one of her signature drinks. How much she liked the mixologist wouldn’t even factor into the matriarch’s decision. No one embarrassed a Romankov and got away with it.
Kat pressed the tissue into Pearl’s hands. “I’m going to get you some coffee and arrange for your ride home. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
“No, no, listen to me! I wasn’t finished,” Pearl stubbornly insisted, swiping at her face, pushing the tangled curtain of hair away from her face. She was only making her makeup situation worse and now resembled a raccoon. “I finally found the right man! He was perfect in every way. L'homme de mes rêves!”
Shit. This was about Guy. Definitely a situation Kat didn’t want to be caught in the middle of. To see this stunning, accomplished businesswoman morph into the ache her heart couldn’t contain made Kat remorseful for her.
“Everything’s going to be alright, Pearl. Stay put.”
She grinned at Kat spookily and a chill swept through her at the vindictiveness etched into her face when she softly answered, “Oui, chère. It will be. I gave that tèt zozo, Guiles Keetowah-Marquez all of me, and he cast me aside like I was a common whore. No one treats ol’ Pearl like that.”
It was the last thing she said before passing out.
Kat pulled her phone out and fired off a text:
I need you. Where are you?
Ping!
Hanging out in the corner stuffing my face. Your sis-in-law finally went down! I knew it was just a matter of time! She practically fell asleep at her own baby shower after getting spinach-artichoke dip wasted. I’ve just been circling in the background, biding my time.
“Seriously?” Lau
ghter exploded from Kat’s lips and with a shake of her head, she responded.
You’re like a friggin’ hyena! Meet me in the guest bathroom.
Ping!
Did you not hear what I said??? These mini chicken pot pies are the BOMB! Adopt me. Seriously. Or not. Either way, you can’t get me to leave now that I’m inside. I know my squatter’s rights.
“Argh!” Kat stomped her foot and replied.
Autumn! Bring your ass and Tuck’s too! Now!
***
“Where am I takin’ her?” Tuck grunted, scooping an unconscious Pearl into his arms.
Kat rattled off the address on Pearl’s license. Unfortunately, she’d had to resort to snooping through her sequined clutch for an address.
“Where’s He-Man at?” Autumn glanced over her shoulder then swiveled back to Kat. She was festive-looking in a white bustier and wide-legged, red, tartan-plaid trousers and white ankle boots. Her golden sunset-dyed, tapered ‘fro was freshly trimmed, and the only makeup she wore was a bold red lip that matched her pants. It set off her oversized clear-framed glasses perfectly. “I haven’t seen him since you were on the dance floor, clinging to him like Saran Wrap.”
“Stop calling him that! Are you seriously still pissed off about what happened with James?”
“Kat, he gave my cousin an asthma attack because you insisted he pose as your boyfriend!”
“Holt never even spoke to him! As a matter of fact, he got up and left the table!” Kat maintained loyally. “You’re the only one bringing old, irrelevant shit up! Besides, I gave James a discount on Marlie’s engagement ring as a token of my appreciation, and he was fine.”
“Call it what it was: a bribe. So, where is he?”
“He had family business to handle.”
“Mmm, for a minute there, I thought you’d finally tied him up and had your way with him.” Autumn laughed at her own joke, but Kat didn’t. “Why aren’t you laughing? Babe, why isn’t she laughing?”
Tuck tried unsuccessfully to peer into Kat’s averted face. “I don’t even want to know. I’ll meet you at the car, sugar. Does Ms. Mignon have an alarm?”
Before Kat could answer, Autumn dropped her white wool cape on the settee and cupped her face. Tilting it up to the light, she glared suspiciously at her best friend. “You look different. You’re disgustingly radiant! New highlighter?”
Kat smacked her hands away with a scowl. “There’s nothing different about me! Get out of here before someone sees Pearl like this! Tuck, I didn’t see an alarm code. Is that going to be a problem?”
“It shouldn’t be. Let me give D a call when I get there. I’m sure he can get me bypassed.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “If not, she’ll just need to wake up.”
Tuck pressed a quick kiss to his wife’s lips. “Meet you at the truck. You good?”
“Yes, I’ll be right behind you, baby.”
“Be careful! She’s having a rough night,” Kat cautioned him. Turning back to Autumn, she inwardly groaned at the critical stare behind her eyeglass lenses. Her friend was practically frothing at the mouth.
“Stop staring at me and go catch up with your man! Call me tomorrow?”
With an impatient sigh, Autumn picked her cape back up and swung it around her shoulders. Her three-carat-heart-shaped tourmaline wedding ring, designed by Kat, dazzled under the small chandelier. It was the only piece of jewelry she wore. Not much else was required as her arms, neck, and chest were covered in vibrant tattoos that she’d personally designed at the Ink Stain. Autumn was ambition and ink personified. She was determined to take her business to the next level by opening up another shop in Nashville. Kat suspected that it was so she could move there with Tuck and not have to hide their relationship.
“Fine, but I want all the details! FYI, Kat? I don’t appreciate you implying my man wouldn’t be able to get into that house on his own. You of all people know he can “McGuyver” his way into or out of any situation,” Autumn proudly finished with a twinkle in her eye and a content smile on her lips.
She never missed a chance to brag about Tuck, and nothing made Kat happier. It was love at first sight for him, and he’d worked hard to win Autumn’s well-guarded heart. They finally got it together nine months ago and married three months after their first official date and were nauseatingly happy together when he wasn’t on assignment. The only blight on their happiness was their marriage being kept a secret, for the time being, from their distinctly opposite families.
“I sure do. Including your coochie. You went from bein’ all 'Kat, I’m so scared of that wild, little white boy!’ to ‘Him Tarzan, me Jane Ride or Die!’,” Kat mimicked in a high-pitched falsetto.
Autumn’s mean-mugging was accompanied by her middle finger. “Since when did you stop being a feminist? Thought you understood that it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. It’s not my fault he used to give off that creepy ‘Deliverance’ vibe!” she huffed.
“It wasn’t his either and you better not throw that in Tuck’s face,” Kat scolded.
“Hardly. When we’re together, we’re either eating, fucking, or moaning from his dick in my mouth,” Autumn divulged with a dreamy smile.
“How charming,” Kat dryly answered. “I bet your preacher granddaddy is currently rolling in his grave at what you’re devoutly worshiping and praising, you crude little hussy.”
“It’s a lifestyle. Get into it,” Autumn quipped then made the sign of the cross. “And God bless Granddaddy Alvin’s soul; may he rest in power. Tomorrow, you can fill me in on your little secret that you’re being so coy about. I know you and He-Man have been up to no good.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kat dismissed, striving for nonchalance as she forcefully guided her to the door. “Nor do I want to hear about the gymnastics sex you and Tuck are partaking in.”
“Okay, but wait! Wait! Just tell me one thing,” Autumn pleaded, and Kat arched an eyebrow impatiently, knowing she was going to regret indulging her. “When he…ahem…did he yell ‘I have the power!’?”
Kat sucked her teeth. “Bye, shady boots! And get that sloppy-ass grin off your face, too!”
“Oooh! I knew it!”
“Take your pterodactyl shrieking down a notch and get ghost!”
“Call. Me.”
After Autumn left, Kat stood in front of the mirror and examined her face with surprise. Oh. So, this was what her bestie was fussing about. Her hair was disarrayed, eyes soft like velvet smoke and knowing, combined with cheeks stained carnation pink, enhancing the smattering of freckles across them and the bridge of her nose, and a mouth ripe from kissing. They were all testaments to the newfound intimacy Holt introduced to her. Kat’s fingers gripped the edge of the marbled counter and white-knuckled it, thinking about the lethal weapon that Holt disguised as his tongue. Just recalling it made Kat edgy, her breasts heavy, nipples aching and needy for more. And those fingers, invading and conquering…
Enough!
Trembling, Kat turned the faucet on and splashed her face repeatedly, wondering how in the hell she was ever going to survive their wedding night.
***
Kat gasped when she exited the ladies’ room, surprised to find her father leaning against the wall across from it, arms and legs crossed, grooves of concern etched into his handsome face.
Crap.
Suddenly, she was glad Holt had shied away from her neck. From the way he worked his mouth, he would surely have left a trail of love marks. Ardor cooled, Kat was racked with guilt for the carnal pleasure she’d experienced under her parents’ roof.
“Privyet, Papa! Are you enjoying the party?”
He straightened up to stand before her. “I’ll say yes if you reassure me that you are no longer upset, Katya. All is well with Brammer?”
“Da. No worries. Yego otets byl yavno rasstroyen (His father was understandably upset).” Kat spread her hands helplessly. “What can I do? It’s a family affair that doesn’t concern me.”
“Why is it bullshit? Let’s put things in perspective, shall we? If the roles were reversed, you would have done worse, so I hope you didn’t go overboard in terrorizing Mr. Brammer, Papa. Holt explained everything to me, and his father is understandably frustrated with their family’s situation.”
A reluctant grin softened Alexei’s stern countenance. “I forget that you not only speak Russian but understand the profanity too, Milaya moya.”
“All thanks to your men,” she cheekily informed him. Their smiles dimmed, thinking of Fyodor who’d been with Alexei since Kat was five. There was no one Alexei had trusted more. And now, he was gone, a pawn in his evil brother-in-law and Stuart Royce’s mission to bring Alexei down.
Her father grunted. “Speaking of my men, I’m assigning you a guard until further notice.” He held up a hand, stalling her protest. “This may seem tedious and unnecessary to you, but in the wake of what’s happened to your mother…” his jaw ticked, and his eyes were uncharacteristically troubled. “Indulge an old man, please. I’ve never cared for surprises and in this month alone, I’ve had more than enough to last a lifetime. It’s either that or one of my furry babies accompanies you everywhere instead.”
Alexei’s Caucasian Ovcharkas were massive canine beasts covered in thick, bushy fur that were used to hunt bears in Russia. The adult males could weigh as much as two hundred pounds. Even sitting down, they towered over Kat yet were the sweetest animals unless otherwise ordered to attack.
“Papa, there is nothing old about you,” Kat scolded. “Also, I refuse to have Brownie, Snickerdoodles, Muffin, or Shortbread follow me around! It’s not even up for discussion. How did you know that Holt’s family was here?”
