Page 186 of The Pucking Arrangement

While she deals with Ris’s snack requests, I lean toward Dmitri, voice low. “How long have you been planning this?”

He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, quieter. “Not long.”

My heart does something ridiculous in my chest. “It was only a couple of weeks.”

“Too long to wait.” His fingers brush mine on the armrest, warm and steady. “Three weeks without this? Without waking up to you stealing my covers?”

“I do not steal covers!”

His brow lifts. “Liar.”

The plane accelerates, pressing us back into our seats. Ris squeals with delight, clutching Mr. Waddles in a death grip.

“Papa, we’reflying!” she yells, loud enough for the entire cabin to hear. “Look, Erin! The ground is going backward!”

I shake my head, still trying to process. “What about Galina? Your training?”

“Galina is on board,” Dmitri says, utterly deadpan. “Said I needed to take every opportunity I can get and travel the world. Show Ris the Croatian beach.”

Luka lets out an approvingtsk. “She’s not wrong.”

“Marko has weights in his house,” Dmitri continues, his voice dipping lower. “And we have…arrangements.”

I narrow my eyes. “Arrangements?”

Marko, completely unbothered, sips his drink. “Private beach access.”

“Very private,” Luka adds.

Heat creeps up my neck. Dmitri just smirks.

The seatbelt sign dings off. Instantly, Ris unbuckles and clambers across the aisle, squeezing into my seat and curling against my side.

“Did we surprise you good?” she asks, her voice sleepier now.

“The best surprise,” I assure her, smoothing her curls.

A flight attendant appears with beverages—apple juice for Ris, sparkling water for me, and something clear and suspiciously strong for Dmitri.

“Celebrating?” I ask, arching a brow at his drink.

His eyes hold mine, steady and knowing. “You have no idea.”

Ris chatters happily between us, laying out her Dubrovnik itinerary. Swimming. Castles. Gelato. At one point, she tries to convince Luka to host a tea party with her stuffed animals, and to my absolute delight, Luka accepts with full theatricality.

But my attention keeps drifting back to Dmitri.

To the way his gaze lingers on me. To the way he listens to Ris with an almost reverent softness. To the quiet certainty in his expression, like this,this, is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“So, Marko really arranged everything?” I ask when Ris finally pauses for breath.

Dmitri nods. “We’re staying with them. Walking distance to most festival venues.” His lips curve knowingly. “And to that private beach I mentioned.”

My cheeks burn. “You’ve really thought of everything.”

“I’m very thorough,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something dark and devastating. “As you well know.”

“Behave,” I warn, glancing at Ris, who is now absorbed in her iPad. “Your daughter’s right here.”

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