Page 48 of Pistols and Plush Toys

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Nikolai pulled it out to see a message from Alex. They’d finally been allowed to start picking through the store rubble and clearing the site. Nikolai typed back a quick go-ahead, and then shoved his phone back in his pocket. Still holding the bear, he stomped over to the cash register.

Because it was a higher end store, there was the option of gift wrapping, which he paid for. The bear went into a nicely lined box with tissue paper, and was ribboned closed.

Nikolai wasn’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing. He paid, took the box to the car, and drove home.

***

The bear sat in Nikolai's office for the rest of the day. No one ever came into his office except for Meredith, who wasn’t coming to his house right now because of Brooks anyway.

Nikolai pretended not to see the box as it sat there for the next morning and through the afternoon. He kept his headdown and worked, coming up only to have meals with Brooks. They worked their way through Brooks's recommendations, all of which were winners except for one of the Asian restaurants that made everything just a touch too spicy for Nikolai’s palate. Still, he respected the flavor. Respected Brooks's taste in food.

The neatly wrapped box caught his eye again just as he was closing his laptop to get ready for dinner. He’d already put in an order for tacos, and it was to be delivered any minute.

He stared at the box trying to decide what to do. He couldn’t just leave it there forever. He needed to—to give it to Brooks. Otherwise, why did he even buy it?

When his phone pinged with the notification that the delivery food had arrived, Nikolai made a decision. He grabbed the box as he left the room.

Setting the gift box on the kitchen counter as he walked by, Nikolai headed toward the front door. He had to wait a few minutes for the delivery to change hands at the gate, and then for one of his employees to walk it to his door. It was Horace again, since Alex was back at the site of the old store, probably with Pyotr. Nikolai thanked him and took the big bag of food back to the kitchen. He’d discovered Brooks was more comfortable eating at the kitchen table, over in the dining room, and anything that helped him eat, Nikolai was willing to do.

He went and retrieved Brooks from his room.

“Smells good,” Brooks said, his smile hesitant as usual, but at least it was a smile. He’d become calmer, and Nikolai liked seeing it. He liked it even better when Brooks lit up when Nikolai asked him a question about tacos, launching into an explanation of their history. Brooks was a wealth of knowledge when it came to food, and although Nikolai had never had much interest in the subject other than whether or not it tasted good, to Brooks it was an art form. Brooks’s passion made even learning about spices interesting.

They ate and Brooks finished his history of tacos and then surprised Nikolai by asking, “How was your day?”

Nikolai blinked at him, and Brooks hurried to say, “I mean, um. Only if you, um, want to tell me.”

“You’re wanting to know?” Nikolai asked him.

Brooks nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I mean, I-I wanted to ask… how things were going with the store.”

So Nikolai told him they’d made progress getting bulldozers out to the ruined building site, and how his insurance agent was confident that he’d be getting a payout on the building once the police investigation cleared him.

Brooks seemed to care a lot about the store situation. This was the second time he’d asked for an update.

“Are you going to rebuild it, after?” Brooks asked now.

Nikolai shook his head. “I’m wanting to relocate that shop for a while. I will sell the space. Buy somewhere else.”

“Oh,” Brooks said quietly. He lowered his gaze to the table. He’d almost finished all of his tacos, which Nikolai was grateful for, but now instead of taking another bite, he started picking at the edge of one of the tortillas.

“Is not your fault,” Nikolai said. It wasn’t the first time he’d said so.

Brooks looked up at him. “But if I wasn’t here–”

“Yes,” Nikolai said, rolling his eyes. “So you kidnap yourself?”

Brooks actually narrowed his eyes at that. Nikolai felt a little proud of himself to get a look with some heat behind it.

“That’s not what I mean,” Brooks said.

Nikolai shrugged. “That is truth, yes? How can it be your fault, when I am kidnapper, and your boyfriend is arsonist? You control others?”

“Mr. Tkachenko—” Brooks started, almost glaring now. Then he seemed to catch himself, that hewasglaring, and he fumbled. “I—I mean…” he ducked his head. “Sorry.”

But Nikolai didn’t want to see Brooks timid again. Didn’t want to see the man making himself meek. “Nikolai.”

Brooks glanced back up, clearly startled. “What?”

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