Page 22 of Born into Blood

“What does that word mean?” She asks, furrowing her brows and then repeating it slowly. “Kee-suh, what is that?”

I smile and grab her helmet, resting it beside mine and then scooping Pip out of the backpack and handing him to Lara.

“It means kitten in Russian.”

She looks me over, brows furrowing even more as the blush on her cheeks darkens. “I don’t understand you,” she finally admits. “Don’t you have better things to do on a Saturday night than lug me around to the vet and pet store? And I’m pretty sure a guy with as many tattoos as you have doesn’t go around giving out nicknames like kitten.”

“You have a lot of experience with tattooed men?”

“No,” she quickly says, shaking her head and then tripping over her words when she adds, “I just thought, I mean, I assumed you wouldn’t be quite so nice.”

I hook a finger under her chin and tilt her face up. Leaning closer, I say, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m not usually this nice, kisa.”

“So I’m getting the royal treatment?”

Her words are more breathy whisper than anything, and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s completely clueless as to the effect it has on me.

“You deserve nothing less,” I tell her, and then rest my hand on the nape of her neck again, gently leading her towards the store.

I already knew she was blushing, but when we step inside and the bright lights hit her, I can’t help but give a soft laugh at how red her cheeks are. She ducks her head and nuzzles Pip while I grab the nearest cart.

“Okay, where to first?”

She glances at the signs hanging above the aisles and points to the closest one. “Food, I guess.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

We spend the next thirty minutes going down the aisles and gathering everything a kitten could possibly need. Lara is afraid to put anything in the cart since I insisted on paying, so anytime I see her looking at something, I toss it in the cart for her. Pip is going to be one spoiled cat.

“Well, that’s just cute,” I say, when we stop in front of a rack of clothes. There’s a tiny blue-and-white striped T-shirt. “He’ll look just like a Russian sailor.”

Lara laughs and holds it up to Pip. He swats at it with his razor-like little claws and then gives another purr. “I think he likes it.”

I put it in the cart and head for the next aisle. She keeps in step beside me. I’m not sure if this could officially be considered a date, but it’s the first one I’ve ever been on, and I’m enjoying every second of it.

“Have you ever been to Russia?”

I look down at her, wondering how much she knows about me. “No, my dad and uncles are from Moscow, so are a couple of my aunts, but I’ve never been there.”

“You speak Russian, though?”

“Yeah, I grew up speaking it, and it’s the language I usually use with my family. My mom’s American, and we mostly speak English with her. She’s learned Russian over the years, though, and understands it pretty well, but English is easier for her.”

“Do you have a big family?”

I laugh. “You could say that. I only have one brother, but my dad has four brothers, and they’re very close, so I grew up with all my cousins. They’re like brothers and sisters to me.”

“How many are there?”

“Eleven of us altogether, but one of my cousins recently married and had a daughter, so the family is growing.”

“I bet that’s nice.”

She sounds so sad when she says it, and when I look down at her, she’s petting Pip, looking even smaller than usual.

“What about you?” I ask, wanting to know everything about her but also not wanting to push her further than she wants to go.

She shrugs her shoulders and runs her fingers over a cat bed that looks like it’s part pillow, part sleeping bag.

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