Page 130 of Prince Charming

His bed, the color, the windows, and toys.

Lily hated the food she cooked, refusing everything but cookies.

Galina was enamored with American daytime TV.

Despite the knocks, Marianna was in heaven.

The first two days had been an adjustment period for everyone. Being an active mom again had fallen back into place as though there had been no time between. Thank god for Galina, who, when the children turned to her naturally, she deferred them to Marianna.

“Are you sure you want me here?” Galina asked late last night once they’d bathed and put the children to bed.

Marianna frowned at her ridiculous question. “I love you. Of course I want you here. If you want to be here.”

“Da.”

And that was that. They grinned at each other, then poured two really big glasses of wine. Marianna spoke to Tag later that night when she climbed into bed, missing him there. They talked only moments before she fell asleep.

He’d dropped them off at home after the airport, telling her quietly he’d give her space with her family. She hadn’t known then what he meant.

Two days of settling in turned into three and five and now seven.

And she was wondering if Tag’s space meant more than he’d stated.

She was to return to work tomorrow, and she was nervous about seeing him. He checked in nightly, asking how the kids were adjusting.

Selfishly, Marianna didn’t want their phone calls to be about that.

She wanted to talk about where their feelings were headed.

She wanted to tell him she missed him so much, missed his laughter and the endless patience he had. She missed his arms and his chest and the soft drugging way he kissed her. She missed his hard body and how he used every solid inch of it expertly in aid of her pleasure. She missed cooking for him and making sure he wore something warm on his long runs. She missed curling up on the sofa next to him while he bitched through one of her TV shows, but secretly enjoyed too.

She missed being on his bike.

She missed him watching her dance because his eyes would turn dark and smoky with lust.

His lust.

She missed that most of all.

He was never apologetic for how much he wanted her.

Did he still want her, or had he chosen a much easier option?

Someone like Sofia.

Their night time talks continued, but they became… more strained and shorter.

Most nights there was lots of noise in the background. “I’m at the club, darlin’.” He informed. The club where she knew women hung out for the specific reason of hooking up with a biker.

There was zero reason to mistrust him.

They hadn’t declared to be each other’s.

Not with words.

But they’d said plenty with actions, with their bodies.

Perhaps Tag thought she was the one who didn’t want him.

---