Maybe with Babushka’s brand of assistance, love might truly be in the air.
“To my grandson Roman,” Babushka said loud enough to be heard over every-fricking-thing in the room. “And his fiancée, Sadie!”
There was a great deal of clinking of glasses. Stomping of boots.
All of Roman’s blood sank to the tips of his toes. Slowly, so he felt every inch of it. Oh shitballs, Babushka did not just do that.
He’d have very much liked not to scare the hell out of Sadie before they got a chance to really connect. A chance for him to find out how things were progressing with that guy of hers. To find out if she was even interested in another try.
Jase clapped Roman on the back. “Dude, this is gonna suck. You should probably reenlist now and save us all the headache.”
“Leaving Denver, right about now, is not the worst idea.” Heather had a genuine look of concern directed his way.
Roman held up his hands. He had enough Dvornakov blood in him to regain control of the situation. Of this, he was certain.
“Let’s keep our focus on Jase. And Heather,” Roman said, speaking louder than the noise of the room. “It’s their night.”
He raised his glass in what he hoped was a good “huzzah.”
There was a great deal of stomping and clanging in response.
“And to their future children,” one of his uncles roared.
“A full house of babies,” one of his aunts yelled.
There was much huzzahing after that.
Heather and Jase stood still, looking utterly shell-shocked.
“Let’s eat,” Roman shouted.
“To food.” His cousin raised a glass.
A clear line of demarcation could be seen between Heather’s family, the reasonable ones in the room, and Roman’s family, the unreasonable bunch.
There was more commotion before the Russian crew turned their attention back to dinner—he needed to grab photos of the spread.
He lifted Louise, ready to head to the kitchen and get those snapshots. Sort of a behind-the-scenes of the wedding album he hoped would be his signature contribution when he did these gigs. An offering to make his business stand out.
Also, getting the hell out of that room wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had.
“Rome,” Jase said.
Roman turned.
Jase glared at him, pointing a finger toward him. “I’ve seen that look. The one currently in residence on your ugly-ass mug. The one that preludes all of our lives turning to shit while you screw things up with a woman.”
“Oh fuck, are we doing this again?” Brek, one of the groomsmen, asked.
“Looks like it,” Jase said in a tone that was remarkably unhappy.
“That means we’ve gotta deal with Babushka again.” Brek shook his head. “Who is it?”
“Sadie,” Jase replied.
Brek pressed his lips into a thin line. “When do you plan on starting to screw shit up with her? I think Velma and I need to get away for a while, until this blows over and you get yourself engaged.”
“I’m not screwing anything up with anyone. I’m just here to celebrate my brother’s wedding and take some pictures.” Roman held up Louise and snapped the shutter. “See?”
“Also, on behalf of her brother—who is busy right now—don’t jerk his sister around.” Jase puffed up like he was the older of the two.
Roman had no intention of jerking Sadie anywhere. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to smile all the time. He wanted her to wait for him.
But he’d screwed that pooch.
He didn’t say anything about any of that. He just looked his little brother dead in the eye and said, “Noted.”
Then he headed for the kitchen.
“Rome?” Heather called from behind him.
He turned. Again.
She hurried his way at an impressive speed given the height of her stilettos.
“Are you interested in her?” Heather asked point-blank, right on target. She read him like she was a Babushka in training. Given she had that uncanny ability to see straight through bullshit, he figured she had to have seen how he really felt about Sadie.
“Yeah,” Roman replied. “I’m interested.”
God help them all, he was interested.
Chapter Five
Lately, there was a space, a space in Sadie’s mind right before she fell asleep. Generally, she could logic herself into recognizing that building her law practice in Denver would take time. That Tonya’s case was only one of many. But in that little space right before slumber, her mind reminded her that she was taking major risks with her career and her life.
In those little snippets of time, panic like she had during the first months out of law school would take hold.
Her heart beat a little faster. Her skin got damp with perspiration as her sympathetic nervous system kicked into overdrive.
Lothario, Marlee’s white-haired chihuahua, barked, yanking Sadie from her thoughts. She jolted, knocking the Illustrated Encyclopedia of Aquarium Fish from where it had rested on her chest.
She blinked as the front door of Marlee and Eli’s house pushed open. If this were a dream, she would fully expect the goldfish that had expired when she was five to walk straight through the door. What could she say? Her dreams had never been reasonable.
Before she even had a moment to panic about what was coming through door number one, Roman strode through as though he had every right to be there.
Was she still asleep? This made no sense. But hell, if she were going to have a waking-type dream, it might as well include Roman.
Sleepy Sadie was all about a Roman dream.
Marlee and Eli had a grandfather clock, because, of course, they did. It began the first of ten long bongs to mark the hour.
“Hey, Rome,” she said, her voice husky.
Yes, if this were a dream, she’d just embrace anything that dreamy Roman wanted to do to her.
Dream Roman still wore his wedding tuxedo, his hair carefully combed. Gah, she really hoped he’d take off the tuxedo and do naughty things to her. What was the use in having him walk into her dream if she couldn’t have some fun?
Except…
Sadie blinked away the remnants of sleep.
She was awake and this was not a dream.
This was reality and, for some reason, Roman had moseyed into Marlee and Eli’s house like he was supposed to be there. His tie had been pulled loose and hung like a limp reminder of what their long-ago relationship had become.
“Sadie?” Roman asked, surprise evident in his tone at finding her sprawled on her brother’s sofa.
By sprawled, she was sprawled.
She was not one of those women who could sleep delicately. She slept hard and she slept long. Yes, Sadie was a total mess when she drifted into slumber. She blamed it on her generally whacked-out subconscious and the dreams it threw her way.
Sitting up from where she’d crashed while waiting for news that her nephew had been born, Sadie snatched up the aquarium encyclopedia from where it had fallen to the floor, tucking it beside her.
Lothario continued barking at Roman like he was ready to do some damage—even though he was tiny and Roman was not.
“Lothario, it’s okay,” Sadie said as soothingly as she could. “This is Rome.”
Rome, who looked amazing as always. Rome, who made her feel like she was a minnow in the shark tank of life.
Roman crouched down, knuckles out to the pup so he could get a good sniff. “Hey, Lothario. Your babushka asked me to check in on you.”
Lothario huffed and gave a final ruff, clearly not buying or liking that explanation.
“That’s why you’re here?” Sadie asked, doing her best to smooth her hair. She hadn’t pulled out any of the pins when she’d arrived at the house. She just curled up on the sofa with an encyclopedia of fish and, as one does when reading about fish, she crashed.
Lothario sniffed around Roman’s dress shoes.
> “Do not hump his feet,” Sadie said, firm.
She could’ve sworn the dog glowered at her.
Roman’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Is that a concern?”
Despite Lothario’s initial attempts at defiling her feet, Sadie had laid out some pretty firm expectations of what she demanded from her canine nephew, but what could she say? Lothario had a history that wasn’t in favor of Roman’s wingtips.
Roman glanced at Lothario like he didn’t believe the dog would really do it. Sadie knew, from first-hand experience, that Lothario would totally do it.
“Oh, he’ll do it,” Sadie said. “I told Eli I’d stop in and check on the dog.”
Roman held up a key. “Babushka gave me the key. Said she had plans that came up. Asked me to come by.”
His emphasis on the word “me” implied that Sadie was the one out of place. Which was ridiculous given that she was at her brother and her best friend’s house and, therefore, her reasons to be present trumped Roman’s.
Sadie lowered her legs over the side of the sofa so her feet pressed into the plush living room carpet. “He’s fine. I’m here.”
“I guess, now, I’m here, too.” He didn’t sound particularly sad about that. “Thanks to Babushka,” Roman continued with a sigh that triggered Sadie’s bullshit meter.
Either her read on Roman was totally off or there was something he wasn’t telling her.
He pulled off his suit coat, draping it across the arm of the sofa. Definitely making himself comfortable.
Apparently, he was going to stick around.
Except, he couldn’t just walk in there and make himself comfortable. Couldn’t just walk into her life and make himself comfortable. That made her uncomfortable.
“Mind if I hang here for a while?” he asked, a bit belatedly given that he was already making himself at home.
“Why?” she asked, part of her hoping he might say that he’d missed her and wanted to see her.
“Why?” he asked her back.
“Yes, why?” The answer she got was really, actually, very important.
“Dvornakovs from all over the world have descended on Denver. I’m not saying that I’m hiding out. I’m just not opposed to being somewhere the majority of them can’t find me.”
Oh. Okay, so this was not, I missed you and I want to see how you’ve been.
Also, yes, she did mind. She minded because she’d spent years attempting to forget about him. And now here he was back in Denver like it wasn’t a big deal.
But this wasn’t her house and they were both apparently on babysitting-the-dog duty. The internal hostess her mother had drilled into her perked to attention.
“You can stay.” Sadie shrugged. “Can I get you a cup of tea or something?”
She started to stand.
“I’m fine. Thanks though.” He unhooked his cuff links and slipped them into his pocket, then rolled up his sleeves.
She sat back on the cushions. The air between them was doing that thing it did when they were together. That thing that felt like an invisible string. That thing that made her heart skip around in her chest. That thing that she hadn’t realized she was missing in her life.
Just like that, it was as though they were back at the truck bed and the universe was trying to push them into a do-over.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the empty cushion beside her.
Her heart caught in her throat. She couldn’t do it. The reason she had rules was because she’d learned. And her second-chance rule? She used to believe in second chances. But every client who had tried for a second chance had failed. In each and every case, if they’d have just stuck with their original plan, they would’ve come out at the end in a better place.
The war inside Sadie rocked between the desire to touch Roman and the knowledge life had illustrated over and over and over again.
“If you’d rather, I can find another seat.” The heat of his intensity broke down a layer of her barrier. He was practically an actor running lines in an attempt to recreate that night on the tailgate.
Officially, she couldn’t figure out what to do with it. Still, this was Roman.
She moved over, enough to make her point. “I scooted. If you’re waiting for verbal confirmation or”—she gestured to the space—“whatever.”
Roman sat next to her. Not so close that he was in her space or anything, just reasonably close. Her body craved him. She scooted back his direction, filling the space so their thighs touched.
His blue eyes heated and practically glittered. “It’s been good to see you again.”
She took him in, and her throat went thick at the tattoo that trailed past his elbow onto his forearm. It looked like vines. Those hadn’t been there when she’d spent the long weekend with him.
What was she supposed to say?
“Sadie, I think—” he said at the same time she asked, “Did you get good pictures?”
Wasn’t that the lamest thing she could’ve come up with?
He tapped his fingertips against his knees. “I did. Good stuff.”
“That’s good.”
Good. Good. Everything was good, which wasn’t great.
“Any updates on your nephew?” He shifted on the sofa.
She shook her head. “Just waiting. Trying not to drive my entire family crazy with text messages, so I’m just hanging out.” She pulled her feet up under her bottom.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said. “At the wedding. Or here.”
She didn’t say anything in response. Didn’t really have anything to say.
“I’m glad I did,” he continued.
“Did what?” She ran the edge of her top teeth along her bottom lip, tapping down further questioning and pretending she was in a courtroom where she had to have her mask of indifference on so that the jury didn’t get a glimpse of what she really thought.
“I’m glad I got to see you,” he clarified, stretching his arm behind her along the top edge of the sofa like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He was so… He just hadn’t changed.
Suddenly, her hair felt too tight pinned against her scalp. She wanted to yank out all the bobby pins. Cuddle up in her extra comfy Hello Mello pajamas. Go to sleep and stay there until Marlee and Eli announced the birth of her nephew.
That was, of course, easier thought than done.
Mostly because Roman was sitting right there.
Also, this was Roman. Roman just wasn’t the kind of guy a girl could forget. His scent, his body. His everything.
The tattoo was new, but he still smelled the same. He still looked the same. He still made her insides feel like she had just finished jury selection and instinctively knew she was screwed when it came time for the trial deliberation.
He shifted so their knees nearly touched.
Roman caught her stare and held it. “I’m proud of you, Sadie.”
Her parents told her that often. Heck, even Eli had told her the same. But when Roman said it, her insides went all melted honey in chamomile tea.
“Why?” She picked at the hem of her dress.
He didn’t even know her. What did he have to be proud of?
His gaze bore into her. “You did what you set out to do. You were set that you’d change the world with the law. That’s what you’re doing.”
Not exactly. Mostly, she settled arguments for clients and tried to get them as much money as she could. Being a divorce attorney wasn’t exactly saving the world the way she’d hoped. She did believe that her work mattered, and she enjoyed family law. But nothing was what she’d expected—in her career or in life.
The fact that she’d become a divorce attorney had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the fact Roman had walked away. That was simply the first step in a long line of steps that brought her to this particular professional choice.
“Thanks.” She glanced away. His intense gaze was just too much.
They sat together in
silence, Lothario hopping to her lap and settling there before nudging her so her hand rested on top of his little head.
She could feel the fissure forming in the mask she prided herself on. The one that she’d perfected. The one no one had ever been able to see through. Roman didn’t seem to realize how bare she’d been stripped. Nerves exposed, she wished the sofa would swallow her whole.
Roman moved closer to her on the cushions.
Sadie didn’t scoot away. Didn’t want to.
“I want a shot.” Roman’s voice was softer than she’d ever heard it before. “With you. I want a shot.”
That determined focus Roman could direct at a person hit her straight in the chest. There was a time when she’d have given anything for a lifetime of that kind of focus.
She reached out to him, gifting herself with this one moment. She traced the pad of her thumb over his lips and along his jaw, reacquainting herself with the sculpture of his face.
Exposed nerve endings all over her skin fired and purred. We’re touching Roman Dvornakov! They seemed to hum. We like it. Keep touching him.
He turned his cheek in her palm so his mouth pressed against her fingers. Then he picked up her hand in his and linked them together.
Sadie moved closer to him, tipping her face so it aligned with his, allowing herself to run the tip of her nose along the length of his. Their breaths mingled. She was pretty sure he was going to kiss her.
Damn it all, she couldn’t let that happen.
“I can’t,” she said.
Roman didn’t pull back. “Give me one reason.”
“I’m committed to…” What could she say? Her job? Yes, she’d decided when she moved back that her focus had to be on her work. It was what mattered and guys like Roman—or any relationship at all—interfered with that commitment.
“I just…there’s just…” She pushed against his shoulders, finally moving away. “I’m not on the market.” Her body screamed at her that this was ridiculous. Her career couldn’t do the things that she knew from experience Roman could accomplish.
She had decided, after an abundance of stilted relationship attempts and abrupt stops, that she was 125 percent committed to her career.
“There really is someone else.” He looked the way she’d felt when she discovered that the healthy cookies she’d bought at the bakery near her apartment in The Loop neighborhood of downtown Chicago were really calorie-laden carb balls.
Do Me a Favor: A Mile High Matched Novel, Book 4 Page 6