Page 13 of The Bratva's Innocent Pregnant Bride
True. But only because I was certain she didn’t regret our night together. There was no freaking way she wasn’t impressed. I was going to make her admit it, preferably while she was naked in my arms.
I pretended not to know what Katie was talking about, and went to work cutting out gingerbread men with forced gusto. Damn it all to hell, there were a dozen other things I could have been doing, not least of all cross referencing the long list of companies that might be connected to the Collective.
On top of that, baking was bizarrely hard work. I was about to drop when Paisley finally walked in, leaning her snowboard against the wall and shaking the fresh snow out of her golden hair. Dressed in sleek snowpants and a bright pink sweater that was as rosy as her windburned cheeks, she took my breath away.
And pissed me right off as she gave me a smug look as soon as she saw what I’d been up to, all but laughing in my face.
“Is that your board, Miss Paisley?” Alina asked, dancing around, still full of energy after the backbreaking labor of rolling out, cutting, and decorating a veritable gingerbread army. “Mama, when am I going to get my lesson?”
“Me too,” Artie said, never wanting to be left behind. He and Alina were as close as siblings and they were as competitive with each other as any brother and sister.
“How about right now?” Paisley said goodnaturedly. She looked to Katie and the other moms for confirmation. “The little ones can take the toboggan down.”
“I don’t know if you can handle all of them out in the snow,” Emerson said.
“Dan, Dan, Dan,” Alina and Artie chanted. “Dan can go. Won’t you, Dan?”
“Well, if he’s okay with it, then sure,” Emerson agreed.
“I’m perfectly fine with it,” I said, watching the smug smile glide right off of Paisley’s pretty face.
Chapter 8 - Paisley
I couldn’t believe how great this job was turning out to be. I went downstairs early that morning, fully expecting to join in with the cookie baking adventure the moms were planning, but they shooed me away, saying I had the morning off. They’d all wanted to be in charge of their own kids’ bath times the night before, too, dismissing me after I read a few stories.
It was sweet how they were so hands on, and so far the kids were all well behaved if not a bit rowdy. Since I was in no hurry to accidentally run into Dan looking for breakfast, I took a plate of scrambled eggs and toast upstairs to do some more research on my missing coworkers.
I found one of Mel’s family members on social media and sent her a message, asking for an update. Then I decided to look up Mr. Caraggio, finding a link to one of his wife’s pages from an account he hadn’t updated in a year. She wasn’t super active either, just some old pictures of her and her husband on a cruise. Seeing them together made him seem more human, and I recalled how he’d practically fled from the office, sweaty and pale.
The scrambled eggs didn’t taste so buttery anymore, more like ashes. Pushing them aside, I put on my snow gear, needing to work off the restlessness of waiting for replies. Whooshing down the slopes knocked out some of the pent up fear that had returned when I saw the same man who looked like he was running for his life was now possibly on that list I’d had the misfortune to find.
Some young kid cut in front of me so I set off in a chase and the impromptu race left me feeling exhilarated. Despite the lingering worry, I felt freer than I had in a long time,and wondered how things might have turned out differently if my injury hadn’t taken me out of competitive snowboarding. It didn’t matter, I was back on the mountain now and while I was speeding down it I wasn’t thinking about work, my safety, or Dan.
Except I was kind of thinking about Dan, going back and forth between remembering his magic fingers and renewed anger at his incessant teasing. Ugh, why didn’t men get that their stupid, sexist jokes weren’t funny? But how could I stop thinking about him when I didn’t have anyone to compare him to? Our night together was so amazing I didn’t want anyone else to cleanse my palate, so to speak, either.
Why did he have to be such an asshole?
Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as my sexist coworkers. I was still determined to avoid him but by the time I made it down a final time that morning I was feeling less hostile toward him.
Until I saw him baking with the kids. That might have been cute except it was extremely obvious that he only turned up to further torment me. And I wasn’t even there. I practically crowed with victory when he saw me come in covered in snow and his big handsome face fell. Ha. That should show him.
Then all of a sudden the tables were turned and he was going to go out with the kids and me to practice on the bunny slope. Now his face was as smug as mine had been thirty seconds before. There wasn’t a thing I could do. He was joining us.
The kids were delighted about it, he was clearly a favorite, and he did have a way with them, hoisting one of the smaller girls up on his shoulders. Kira? I had to get their names straight, and who they belonged to. And they moved so fast it seemed like there were more of them.
Even worse, he kept hanging back, insisting on helping with all the sleds and Alina’s little board. He was as laden down as a pack dog, grinning in triumph the whole way. I was trying to herd everyone and keep them from jetting too far away, as well as ignoring Dan as best I could.
“Hey teacher,” he said. “I hope the lesson will extend to me, too. I’ve never snowboarded or skied."
“And you grew up in Moscow?” I asked.
He shrugged, dropping one of the round sleds and plunking Kira on it, pulling her instead of trying to carry everything. Two more kids piled on. “No time,” he said. “I’ve been working since I was thirteen.”
That was unexpected, since his family was clearly rolling in money. Against my better judgment, I was going to ask him something more, but he was grinning at me, eyes fixed on the front of my sweater. Oh, they popped right up again, but I quickly remembered what I was working with. Ignoring the heat infusing my body just from that one glance, I wondered if I could get away with not clamping his boots on properly. Not that he’d get too hurt on the baby hill.
Of course my professionalism didn’t let me sabotage him and the kids all had a great time pumping their little legs to get up to the top of the hill. As much as I liked children, I hadn’t been around any in a while and I thought it would take some time to get in the swing of it. They were just so cute in their bright knitted hats and matching mittens, their crisp brand new snowsuits rustling as they ran.
At the top, they realized it looked like a long way down to the bottom, and Artie was suddenly more interested in sledding than getting on a snowboard. Alina was raring to go and I showed her everything she needed to know before letting her gether boots on. Dan stood by, half watching Artie and the smaller kids either roll down or pile into the sled, and half taking in my lesson.
