Page 23 of Unexpected Bratva Baby

The kitchen bustles with energy as I chop vegetables for the Cullen skink. The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the air, blending with the simmering of the pot on the stove. The aroma of leeks and potatoes wafts through my small apartment, reminding me of cozy evenings in Scotland.

My phone lights up, interrupting my cooking flow. It’s a message from Mikhail. He’s running late for our lunch date but promises to make it up to me. I frown, setting down the knife. Lately, he’s been so distracted. I push aside the thought and return to my prep work, not wanting to dwell on why that might be. Is he getting bored with me? No, I won’t think like that.

The doorbell rings just as I’m finishing up. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and hurry to answer it. Mikhail stands there as handsome as ever in his tailored suit, but something’s off. His usual confident smile seems strained.

“Hey,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. “Everything okay?”

He nods, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Of course. Just a busy morning at work.”

As he moves past me, I notice a small cut on his hand. “What happened there?”

Mikhail glances at his hand, as if just noticing the injury. “Oh, this? It’s nothing. I was trying to recreate your rumbledethumps last night. Turns out I’m not as skilled with a knife as you are.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You were cooking?”

He laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Attempting to, anyway. Let’s just say I won’t be quitting my day job anytime soon.”

Something about his explanation doesn’t sit right with me, but I push aside the doubt. Instead, I focus on the warmth in his gaze as he looks at me.

“Come on then,” I say, leading him to the kitchen. “Let me show you how it’s done properly.”

Mikhail follows, resting his hand lightly on the small of my back. The familiar touch sends a shiver through me.

“So, what’s on the menu today, Chef MacKenzie?” he asks, peering into the pot on the stove.

I grin, picking up my wooden spoon. “Cullen skink. Perfect for a chilly day like today. Want to help me finish it up?”

He hesitates, glancing at his injured hand. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I might do more harm than good.”

“Nonsense,” I say, handing him a spoon. “Here, just stir this while I chop the rest of the leeks.”

As we work side by side in my tiny kitchen, the tension I sensed earlier seems to melt away. Mikhail relaxes, his shoulders losing their rigid set. He even cracks a few jokes about his culinary ineptitude.

He leans against the counter as I add the final ingredients to the pot. “I could get used to this.”

I look up at him, heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his blue eyes. “Used to what?”

“This.” He gestures around the kitchen. “Cooking with you and spending quiet afternoons together. It’s... nice.”

I smile. “It is nice, isn’t it?”

Mikhail sets down his spoon and steps closer, cupping my cheek. “You have no idea how much I needed this today, Phoebe. Thank you.”

Before I can respond, he leans in and kisses me softly. I melt into him, forgetting all about my earlier doubts and concerns when it’s just us, the comforting aroma of home-cooked food surrounding us.

When we break apart, Mikhail’s smile is genuine, reaching his eyes this time. “When do we get to eat this mysterious skink of yours?”

I laugh, turning back to the stove. “It needs to simmer for a bit longer. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about your day? What’s got you so stressed?”

His expression clouds over for a moment before he schools it back into a neutral mask. “Oh, you know, just the usual business headaches. Nothing worth boring you with.”

I want to press further, to understand what’s really going on with him, but something in his tone stops me. Instead, I nod and change the subject. “How about I give you a sneak peek of my next cooking class while we wait? I’m thinking of introducing haggis to my unsuspecting students.”

Mikhail’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Haggis? Isn’t that the one with sheep organs?”

I grin mischievously. “Yes.”

As I launch into an enthusiastic description of my lesson plan, Mikhail listens attentively, his earlier tension seemingly forgotten. We laugh and joke, the warmth between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

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