Page 26 of Nikolai

Nikolai turns his head toward me. "What are your plans?"

Shit. Think, Leah. "Well, my car is due for an oil change, so I was going to take it to Jake. After that, I need to do my shopping for the week." That's another lie. My car is not due for an oil change for another month.

"No problem. I'll have Maxim take your car in, and I'll drive you to the store. We can pick up what you need to make dinner tonight."

"But… I."

"Finish eating, Leah, so that we can go."

I sit with my mouth hanging open while Nikolai goes back to eating. Several seconds pass with no other excuses coming to mind. Finally, I relent. It looks like I'm making Nikolai dinner tonight. I'll admit, the idea of spending another day with him has me giddy.

After we finish eating, Nikolai excuses himself to take a shower. Once he comes back downstairs, I follow him out through the side door in the kitchen, which leads to the garage. As soon as we step through, motion sensors activate, lighting the room. In the garage sits Nikolai's motorcycle, a black truck, a Mercedes, and a Jaguar. Nikolai leads me over to the Jag, where he hits the button on the key fob in his hand and opens the passenger door for me.

"Can we stop by my apartment so I can change into some fresh clothes?" I ask when Nikolai slides into the driver seat beside me a second later.

Nikolai hits a button on the visor, activating the garage door. "No problem."

As soon as we back out, Nikolai spots Maxim exiting the front door of the house. He stops, rolls the window down, and waits for Maxim to approach the car. He turns to me. "Give me the keys to your car."

Fishing the keys from my purse, I hand them over to Nikolai, who then hands them to Maxim. "Take Leah's car to get the oil changed and whatever else it might need."

Maxim jerks his chin. "Yes, sir."

On the ride to my place, I remain quiet. I think back to a moment ago when Nikolai ordered Maxim to handle my car. I think about his home, the garage full of luxury cars, and I think about my knowledge of the man sitting next to me. Though I have not come out and asked Alba or any of The Kings, it's no secret who the Volkov's are. Nikolai was rather forthcoming last night when I asked him if his family is mafia. And the more time I spend around him, the more questions I have. What is his role in the family? What kinds of businesses do they have? Why does he choose to stay primarily in Polson? Does he miss his home country? Will he ever go back?

"What are you thinking about so hard over there?" Nikolai asks, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.

"Do you miss your home?"

Nikolai's eyes flick toward me then back to the road. "Russia?"

I nod. "Yeah. Do you miss it?"

"Not really, no. Polson is my home now. Everyone and everything I care about is here."

I watch as something flashes across Nikolai's face as he answers my question, and I decide not to pry any further on the topic of his home country. Instead, I stick to what makes him happy, his family.

"You have an amazing family. Logan and Bella are great. So are Bree and little Jake."

At the mention of his niece and nephew, Nikolai grins. "They are, aren't they? I'm truly fortunate to have found my brother and been able to watch him grow his family. Family is everything."

I give Nikolai a small smile. "Yeah. It's fortunate when you have a family as great as yours."

Nikolai doesn't say anything in response, but by the soft look he gives me, he knows my comment has deep meaning.

Thirty minutes later,Nikolai and I are scouring the produce section of the grocery store when an odd feeling creeps up my spine. A sense of awareness washes over me like I'm being watched. Only when I look over my shoulder, I don't see anyone except for the older couple standing next to the peaches. I try to shake the weird feeling away, but a hint of something continues to linger. Still feeling uneasy, I seek out Nikolai, who has made his way over to the deli about thirty feet away. He has his phone to his ear and is scanning the area like he's looking for someone. When his eyes lock on mine, he wastes no time eating up the distance between us. The moment he is at my side once again, my shoulders slump, and my body relaxes—something that doesn't go unnoticed by him as he places his palm on the small of my back. Maybe he senses that being around him puts me at ease.

"Get back to me," he barks into his phone before hanging up, his full attention now on me. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I only need a few more things then we can go."

Nikolai gives me a tight nod, and I wonder what has made his mood flip. Has he changed his mind about my cooking him dinner?

"Is everything alright? You can take me to my car, and I can come back and finish my shopping later."

Nikolai's face softens, and he winks. "Not a chance, Malyshka."

I smile. That's five times he's called me Malyshka which is the Russian word for baby. Everytime he says it, my knees go weak. And yes, I'm counting.

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