Maia laughed as Julian bounded over to Yonas and begged for a second ride. Yonas grinned down at him. “Sorry, only one per day. Tomorrow we can try again.” Yonas looked up at Maia again. “So?”
“I’ve got a lot of my mind today, I guess,” she said, mind working overtime to find the right excuse. “Just been thinking about this New Year’s Eve party. I haven’t figured out the theme yet.”
“Oh. Well let’s think together, shall we?” Yonas came over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What have you ruled out so far?”
She laughed weakly. The weight of his arm around her felt good. She’d miss that. Along with the way he did genuinely want to help. The enthusiasm he brought to everything he turned his attention to. He was truly a bright spot in her recent history. She didn’t want to forget that. “Well, my initial thoughts were black and gold…kind of a starry night theme.” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “But I think that’s overdone.”
“Hmm. Yes.” They began a slow walk across the garage, heading back toward the palace. Julian skipped ahead, singing nonsense songs. “Well, what about something grand, grander than ever before? Like we could turn the palace into a funhouse.”
She snorted. “Yonas. That is wildly impractical.”
“Is it? I’ve got the money to do it.” His hand slid to her lower back, rubbing a slow circle there. “We could put in a spiral slide. From the third floor down to the pool. Line it with twinkle lights and confetti guns.”
“Okay, now it sounds like we asked Julian what he’d like to see.”
Yonas’s grin widened. “Fine. But that should be the theme. Grander than ever before. What’s your favorite band?”
“Uh…” She pinched an eye shut, trying to reorient to his abrupt subject change. “The Foo Fighters?”
“Excellent. We’ll invite them. As well as the four other top rock bands of the moment.” His voice had a faraway, misty quality. Like he was already at this epic New Year’s Eve party in his mind.
She laughed despite his horrible ideas. This was so far beyond her reach as the decorator. “Yonas. That is absurd. I’m handling the decorations; I’m not the event planner.”
“Fine.” He pushed open the heavy door sealing off the garage; Julian raced through, skipping patterns in the sloping hill of the lawns ahead. Sunlight glinted off his honeyed hair. A wave of contentment washed through her, leaving her limbs soft and warm in its wake. This. This was perfect. The palace. The air. Her boys around her. She bit her lip, studying the ground, trying to tamp down the swell of emotion. Part of her never wanted to leave. Four weeks in, four to go. She never imagined she might actually feel like putting down roots in Maatkare.
“The thing is,” she pressed on, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, “your ideas have nothing to do with Maatkare.”
Yonas feigned an insulted look, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “The Foo Fighters are the definition of Maatkare.”
She snorted. “Sure. And Maatkare was founded in a funhouse, am I right?”
He pinched at her side. “You have a point.” He was quiet for a moment, the only sounds the twittering of birds somewhere on the grounds and their footsteps scuffing over the pebbled path. “How about this? I’ll take you to the real heart of Maatkare.” He grabbed her hand between both of his, brining her knuckles up to his lips. “Let’s go see the holiday puppet shows.”
13
The puppet show was tucked into the back room of a business in the center of Ragdar. A velvety black curtain lined the back wall, with everyone crowded inside on folding chairs or standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Curry and sweat hung in the air.
Yonas guided them toward the back of the audience, popping Julian up onto his shoulders to see above the sea of heads. The lights dimmed, the chatter of Arabic and French falling to a hush. Julian wriggled on Yonas’s shoulders. Maia reached up to squeeze his leg, and a soft waft of her fragrance reached him.
Yonas smiled into the darkness. He loved how she smelled—vanilla and laundry—and even the brief whiff set his pulse racing. He gripped Julian’s shins as the puppet show began. The curtain opened just enough to reveal a large wooden box. The performers sat hidden behind the miniature stage area, where three worn but beloved hand puppets bopped around.
Yonas had a perma-grin for the entire show. This was the stuff of his childhood holiday memories—these old-timey hand puppets in their medieval clothing, garish painted makeup, and ruffian adventures.
Julian leaned down a couple times to whisper, “What are they saying?”
Yonas offered a concise explanation when possible. All of the puppets’ adventures focused on the holidays and the Orthodox celebrations of Maatkare, with plenty of humor woven through.
Once the lights came back on and the show had ended, Yonas appraised Maia. “So? What did you think?”
“I understood about ten percent,” she said, pressing herself against the wall as people filed past them. “But it was so precious.”
“I used to come here all the time as a boy,” Yonas said. Once there was a bit more room, he allowed Julian to slide down to his feet. Once his feet touched the ground, Julian hopped in an excited circle.
“Where now? Where now?”
Maia and Yonas shared a grin. “I have an idea,” Yonas said. “Let’s go on a nighttime walk.”
“What do you think, honey?” Maia reached out to ruffle her son’s hair. “Do we trust the sheikh?”
“Yes, trust the seek! Trust the seek!”
His mispronunciation made Yonas smile. As they shuffled out of the cramped back room, Yonas checked his phone. He lifted a brow—thirteen messages had come in during the puppet show.
All from Shaia.
He swiped his phone off before he could glimpse a single message. Too little too late from her. Reading through her messages now would only bring him down. He’d write back later and let her down properly.
They stepped through the squat doorway onto the cobblestone street outside. The scent of roasting corn reached him. The moon shone high in the sky, amber lights dotting the cramped street.
“Where to?” Maia asked, looking up at him.
Yonas jerked his chin toward a park across the street. A wrought iron fence lined a diamond-shaped green space, with a few trees growing tall and strong in the center. They walked the perimeter slowly as Julian asked questions about everything—where did the sun go, why was the fence open in one part, where did the puppets sleep at night.
Yonas received each question with joy—the boy had curiosities that reminded Yonas of the majesty of the world around them. Seeing the world through Julian’s eyes refreshed him. Made him realize that Ragdar was much more interesting than he’d acknowledged.
Their lazy stroll led them to the west end of the city center. A church loomed up ahead, the stained-glass windows illuminated in the moonlight. Maia hummed low in her throat.
“This.” She let a whistle. “Wow. What a church.”
Yonas looked over it. The place had been abandoned for a few years, and he’d scooped it up in an auction. “Do you like it?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s fascinating.” Few people were on the streets in this sector, which lent an additional touch of reverence to the moment. It seemed they were the only people in the world. Beholding this church. While the moon looked on.
“I own it,” he said.
She lifted a brow. “Do you mean like, you own it like you own everything in this city?”
“No. I specifically bought this church four years ago.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he assessed it. “In fact, I’d rather forgotten that I’d done it.”
She clucked her tongue. “Well, whaddya know. If I had enough money to buy property and then entirely forget about it…”
He nudged her. “It’s easy to do. If you like to dabble in real estate like I do.”
“Well, explain. What was the church supposed to be for?”
He
shrugged. “I forget. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He trailed off, pinching an eye shut as he thought. “One of my friends might have brought up the idea of starting a nightclub.”
She shook her head, her lips forming a thin line. “No. This place can’t be a nightclub. It’s too sacred.”
“Well, Maatkare needed—still needs—a place that young people can come to enjoy themselves. Like me, for instance.”
“Are there no clubs or bars around here? I mean, Ragdar isn’t small.”
Yonas shrugged. “Sure. Bars and things. But nothing truly hopping.” He scoffed. “If we had something like that, I might be inclined to stick around a bit more.”
Her gaze darkened. “So one solid nightclub and you’d learn to love your family?”
Something in her tone rubbed him the wrong way. He worked his jaw back and forth as he watched her, trying to gauge his own reaction. “I suppose there’s a bit more to it than that. Unless you think I’m so shallow.”
“Well, I hardly think one hopping nightclub is the solution to anyone’s problems.”
His nostrils flared. “No, but it’s not a crime to have an outlet either.”
Silence stretched between them; he could tell from her heated gaze that plenty roiled beneath the surface. Just when he thought it had dissipated, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So what’s stopping you from turning it into this club? You need your outlet so bad, why don’t you make it?”
Her simple question threw him off guard. Why had he abandoned the plan? Maybe the same reason his family always thought he was joking when he set out to do anything. Because none of the plans ever came to fruition. Because Yonas eventually lost interest or moved on. He frowned, studying the cement steps leading up toward the church.
“Maybe I’ll look into it again.”
“Or maybe you don’t actually need another nightclub in your life.” Maia’s voice went softer. Her transition to tenderness. He liked that, in just a few weeks, he had learned to read her like a book. She was all sharp edges and knives, but hidden beneath was the soft underbelly that was sweeter and more delicious than anything he’d ever experienced in life.
He laughed hollowly. “One could argue there have been plenty of those so far.”
“I’ve been to enough nightclubs to know that once you hit a certain number, they all become the same. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a mom.”
He jostled the change in his pockets, looking up at the church. “This building should be used for something though.”
Silence stretched between them again. Julian was hopping up each step nearby, counting random numbers—twenty, thirteen, five hundred, two.
“Let’s bring the New Year’s Eve party here,” Maia said. She pushed up her glasses, looking over at Yonas, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “This would be the perfect blend of the holy and holiday traditions. Is it destroyed inside? Is there much work to do?”
“Last time I checked, it was nearly pristine inside. Just fell out of use in the past decade.” He assessed the church again, nodding slowly as her idea percolated through him. “This would be the perfect location. I can have a cleaning crew here tomorrow.”
She sucked in an excited breath, balling her fists as she jumped up and down a little bit. “Oh my god! Can we go inside now and start looking?”
“I don’t have the keys,” Yonas said, and when her face fell, he rushed to add, “But we can come back first thing tomorrow morning. Even before you come to work.”
Maia cheered, and it caught Julian’s attention. He started jumping around and cheering too, and the sight of them celebrating moved Yonas to join as well. The three of them held hands and skipped around in a circle, alternating between laughs and shouts.
He hadn’t been this excited about a new idea in too long to remember. Possibly ever.
But Maia and Julian had a special way of brightening up his world. So much that he was hesitant to return to the relative darkness of what life had been previously.
They wrapped up their walk and during the car ride, settled on a plan: Maia would spend the night at the palace to get an early start at the church the next day. Yonas promised them a room and all the comforts they could imagine, and Maia’s agreement meant more to him than he could fully understand. Facilitating their early morning was one thing, but having her closer, under the same roof satisfied a part of him he hadn’t realized existed.
After a quick packing spree at Iliana’s house, during which Julian was mostly unhelpful and simply excitedly shrieking, the three of them made it to the palace with a few bags in tow. Julian touched every single palm tree he walked by, rubbing his little hand against the rough serrated bark. After a few visits to the palace, he practically knew his way around. He led the way as they followed the familiar route from the garage toward the main hall.
“Look.” Yonas nudged Maia. “He knows the way.”
She smiled. “You’d think he lived here.”
Yonas bit his tongue before he could say what immediately had popped into his mind—he could live here, you know. But that seemed wrong. Out of place. Inappropriate, somehow. Maia and Julian had a life somewhere else. Why would she stick around after her contract expired? Certainly not just for him. He didn’t suspect a woman like Maia would settle for anything less than hardline logic and practicality. Even if they had the best sex of their lives, Yonas knew that wouldn’t be enough to keep her in Maatkare.
He pushed away these thoughts as he helped Maia and Julian settle into their temporary room. He didn’t like thinking about the long term, about the what-ifs, about anything beyond the holiday season. Partly because he didn’t know what might come next, and partly because he didn’t know what he wanted to come next.
Part of him still raged that he should buy the ticket and leave the country anyway. Ride out the Christmas season and then just pack up and leave again, no matter what his father thought.
The other part whispered something altogether simpler.
Just stay and see where this goes.
14
Maia got Julian ready for bed, and Yonas helped read a bedtime story, he and Maia switching off narrating, using a variety of funny voices. It took extralong to get Julian to settle down to sleep, but Maia navigated his whines and protests with grace. Eventually, they crept out into the hallway. Maia grimaced as she shut the door behind her.
“He’s going to get used to you,” she said, her voice edged with a warning.
“What do you mean?” He grabbed her hand, leading her just down the hall to his own room.
“He’ll start to expect that you’re there. Reading the stories. Putting him to sleep.” She sighed, sounding absolutely defeated. “You shouldn’t help anymore.”
He stopped in his tracks, looking over at her. The suggestion cut through him. “But I love helping with those things.”
Her face fell, and she shook her head. “I get that. And I…it’s nice that you love to do it. But for his sake—for Julian’s wellbeing—we should stop this now.”
“Stop reading him stories and helping with bath time,” he said slowly, partly to make sure they were still talking about Julian. Something in her tone suggested more than just the nighttime ritual.
She hesitated, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Right.”
Yonas frowned, pushing open the heavy door to his bedroom. The familiar, quiet space greeted him, his sanctuary within the palace. He flipped a switch, track lights illuminating the lounge space in front of the balcony doors. His four-poster bed remained in darkness, but Maia still hummed with appreciation all the same.
“So this is where the prince rests his head,” she murmured.
“Actually, the prince has been resting his head at Iliana’s house these days,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. Maia’s suggestion still clanked around awkwardly inside him. He didn’t like being told what to do, but this was more than that. She was right—she needed to protect her son’s heart. But part of him wanted
to prove that she didn’t need to protect Julian from Yonas.
Part of him wanted to show her that it was safe to let him in. Permanently.
“If you don’t want me helping with the bedtime stories,” Yonas said, leading her toward a giant sectional sofa overtop shaggy rugs, “does that mean I can’t help with the other activities that involve a bed and nighttime?”
A grin appeared. “Well…”
“Mm-hm.” He smoothed his hands up and down the sides of her body, starting a slow dance back and forth. She slung her arms over his shoulders. The look in her eyes was warm enough to melt even the iciest hearts. “That’s what I thought.”
“We should go to bed,” she whispered, absolutely no conviction in her voice. “If we want to get up early and go to the church.”
“Sure.” He took a healthy squeeze of her butt before guiding her back on the sectional. “Definitely let’s go to bed.”
She giggled as he tugged at the waistband of her leggings, rolling them down and over her feet. “You don’t waste any time.”
“No. We have to get up early and go to the church,” he cracked. “No time to spare.”
Laughter rippled through the air as he skipped kisses up her legs, spreading them apart easily. After so many nights of sharing the same bed, her body was familiar to him. He’d never revisited the same lover so many times in recent history.
Unlike his past lovers, Maia felt like home. He wanted to keep coming back to her, to exploring her body, to getting to know her past, her quirks, her tastes. The familiarity didn’t push him away as it had with everyone else.
“It’s not good to rush, though,” she said, her voice already sounding a million miles away. He smiled as he nuzzled the damp heat between her legs.
“But what about the church?”
She melted into the sofa, legs widening. He rubbed his nose against the crease of her pussy. A sighed escaped her.
“What church?”
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, taking a soft bite of her pussy. She shivered beneath him.
Christmas with the Yared Sheikhs: The Complete Series Page 18