6. Svetlana
Chapter 6
Svetlana
T his whole close-quarters thing would be so much easier if Vitya weren’t so damn good looking. I knew the man was ripped, but I had no idea how ripped until my fingers slid along his waist and I felt the hard muscles that he’s been hiding beneath his shirt. Pretending to be his wife and the mother of his baby at the grocery store started out as me just goofing around and trying to make us look like a family, but the longer I kept my body snuggled up against his, the more it started to feel right . The memory of his hand on the nape of my neck, giving me a soft warning squeeze, sends a warmth to every part of my body.
Of course, he couldn’t put distance between us fast enough once we were out of the store. Sometimes I think there’s something between us, and then other times it becomes painfully obvious that it’s completely one-sided.
“He’s a confusing man,” I whisper to Samantha as she sucks back the bottle I’m holding. The little thing is always ravenous, reminding me of my own appetite. If she were old enough, I know she’d be reaching for one of my moon pies, and the thought makes me smile.
“All right, that’s the last of it,” Vitya says, walking in and putting the last pile of baby supplies on the floor next to all the other things he’s already stacked up. “I’ll deal with all this later. You need to eat something first.”
“I can make my own lunch,” I try and tell him, but he just shakes his head at me.
“You’re not eating a box of moon pies for lunch. I’ll make us a couple of sandwiches. I need to marinate the chicken anyway.”
As soon as he leaves the room, I look at Samantha and whisper, “He’s gorgeous and he cooks. We really need to figure out a way to keep him.”
She kicks her feet and flings her arms around, which I’m taking as her wholehearted agreement to what I’ve just said. While Vitya makes our lunch, Samantha finishes eating, and by the time I’ve gotten her burped and changed, everything is ready and I’m feeling like a pro at this baby thing.
“Do you think all babies are this easygoing?” I ask him, walking into the kitchen with Samantha in my arms. He’s already set her seat up on the island so she’ll be right next to us while we eat, and when I strap her in, she immediately kicks her legs and keeps her eyes on the soft toys that are hanging down.
“I really doubt she’s going to stay this easygoing.”
“Don’t jinx it, Vitya.” I grab the plate he offers me and take one of the stools at the island. “I know Isabella took forever to sleep through the night, and Roma has become pretty clingy lately, but Samantha just seems really chill.”
“For now,” Vitya adds, determined to be a Debbie Downer.
Her tiny foot is encased in her pink sleeper, and when she kicks it out again, I give it a soft squeeze. She lets out a grunt that sounds a lot like a laugh.
I smile at Vitya. “I think she just laughed.”
“She grunted,” he says, while adding mustard to his own sandwich. “She probably just filled her diaper again.”
Grabbing my own sandwich, I say, “I think she laughed,” before taking a big bite. I let out an appreciative sigh when I taste how good it is. I’d usually just throw some turkey between to slices of bread and call it good, but Vitya’s created a work of art. Not only is there turkey, but there’s also ham, and he’s added spinach, tomatoes, and a slice of Muenster cheese.
“Holy crap,” I mumble around my mouthful. “Did you add cucumber slices?”
“I did. You’re like a toddler, Sveta. I have to sneak your vegetables in.”
I’d shoot him an offended look, but I’m too busy taking another bite. I had no idea you could put so much on a sandwich. Even the mustard he chose is tasty. Vitya doesn’t use the plain old yellow stuff. This has seeds and a bit of spice to it. It’s delicious, and it doesn’t take me long to finish the whole thing.
“Want me to make you another one?” he asks, only now just finishing off the first half of his.
I think about it, but in the end decide to just move on to dessert. I eat a cupcake while he finishes his lunch. I watch him while he eats, noticing the sharp line of his jaw, the stubble on his face that’s thicker than I’ve ever seen it, and the tattoo that I’ll never be able to get enough of. It moves while he chews, and I wish I could grab my sketchpad and draw this moment. Instead, I do what I always do and take a mental snapshot so I can draw it later from memory.
“When did you get your tattoo, the dragon on your neck?”
He stills at my question before finishing his last bite. When he’s done, because he refuses to mumble around his food like I often do, he says, “A long time ago.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
He grabs my empty plate and starts loading the dishwasher. When he keeps his back turned toward me, I walk over to stand next to him.
“I thought we were past the silent treatment.”
“I appreciate your help with Samantha, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to share my life story with you, Sveta.”
I try to hide how much his comment hurts and push away from the counter to grab Samantha. “I’m going to start unpacking,” I tell him, not even bothering to look over my shoulder before walking out of the room. I kiss Samantha’s soft cheek, taking comfort in her small body and the sweet scent that all babies seem to have. She sucks her pacifier and fists my shirt, her very presence soothing me.
Several minutes later, he finds me organizing the baby supplies while Samantha watches me from her playpen. I’ve attached a soft keyboard toy that plays music every time she kicks it with her feet. She’s becoming more vocal, and every time a note rings out, she lets out a funny little squeal. Vitya walks over to her, smiling when she gets excited and does a series of fast kicks that results in several cheerful-sounding but discordant notes of music. My cousin Max would be appalled. He’s a skilled pianist, and I’m guessing Samantha’s musical performance would have him covering his ears with a wince.
Before Vitya faces me, he leans over and runs a finger along Samantha’s cheek. It’s such a sweet move, and one that makes it impossible for me to stay irritated with him. She gives another soft squeal that makes him smile.
“She seems to be getting healthier by the day,” I tell him.
“It’s like she’s a completely different baby from the one I found.” He gives her cheek one last stroke before standing back up and facing me. He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck and with a sigh, he says, “I’m not trying to be an ass, Sveta.”
“Language,” I whisper, pointing at the little baby who’s watching and taking in everything we do and say.
“I really doubt she understands anything, and I’m guessing she doesn’t speak Russian.”
I shrug and say, “You never know,” while I keep stacking diapers.
He sighs and tries again. “I’m not trying to be mean.”
I see him scrub a hand through his hair from the corner of my eye before he says, “We’ve had a set dynamic between us for two years and things have had to drastically change in the last few days and I’m still trying to figure things out.”
Looking over at him, I watch as he starts gathering together all her bathing supplies. “You know we can be friends, right? ”
He meets my eyes but doesn’t say anything, so I keep going.
“You’ve always insisted on keeping me at arm’s length, more than arm’s length,” I add with a soft laugh. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“But it does.” His voice is soft, and I swear there’s a hint of regret in it. “I’m paid to keep you safe, Sveta. I’m not here to be your friend. It’s easier if I keep my distance. My focus needs to be on my job. Your safety is more important than anything else.”
“I think you can manage both.” I bite back a smile and add, “I mean, unless I’ve seriously overestimated your abilities.”
The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Can you at least tell me where you got the tattoo on your neck? The skill involved is impressive, and I’m curious.”
At first I think he’s going to ignore me, but after several seconds of nothing but Samantha’s erratic feet concert, he says, “It was in Moscow when I was twenty.”
When it’s clear I’m not going to get a story to go along with it, I sigh and grab my suitcase. Before I walk out of the room, I haul his bag over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
I keep wheeling the suitcase towards the hall. “I’m getting us set up in the bedroom down the hall.”
“Sveta,” he starts to say, but I cut him off.
“Relax, Vitya. I’m not going to have my way with you while you sleep, but I’m also not going to have us all separated. We need to be able to hear Samantha if she cries, and I’m not going to be running up and down all night. We can just roll out of bed and take turns.”
“And if someone shows up unannounced?” he asks.
I shrug and keep walking. “Then we’re kind of fucked anyway, aren’t we?”
“Language, Sveta,” I hear him call out after me.
I laugh and drop everything off in the large bedroom that’s close to the kitchen. It has an en suite bathroom and a set of French doors that lead out onto the back deck. The room already has a crib in it, along with one of the rooms upstairs so that Roma and Isabella have a place to sleep whenever we all come out here. It’s perfect and exactly what we need while we figure things out.
I’m wheeling my suitcase into the closet when Vitya comes in with Samantha’s bathtub and bathing supplies. He puts it all in the bathroom and then steps out, eyeing the bed warily.
“It’s a king-size bed,” I tell him. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“I’ll be sure and repeat those same words to your dad if he decides to drive out here to check on us.”
I laugh, imagining the look on my dad’s face if Vitya ever told him that, and because I can’t resist teasing him, I say, “I do sleep naked, but I promise I’ll stay on my side of the bed.”
His eyes widen as he looks over at me. “Tell me you’re joking.”
I shrug and start hanging up clothes, making sure to keep the pajamas I packed hidden from view. “I get hot while I sleep.”
“Sveta, you can’t sleep naked.” The pleading tone to his voice has me smiling even bigger.
“Why not?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yeah, I am.” I step out of the closet just enough to lean my hip against the doorway. “Tell me the truth, Vitya. Is your reaction because it’s your job to watch over me and you feel nothing else for me other than a responsibility, a duty, or is it because you don’t trust yourself to keep your hands off me?”
He shakes his head and starts to walk away. “We are not having this conversation.”
I let him leave, unable to hide the huge smile on my face. He didn’t answer the question. If he felt absolutely nothing for me, then he would’ve just said that and stormed out of the room, but he didn’t. He refused to answer and got his ass out of here. That has to mean something.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up the group chat I have with Natalya, Lara, and Yelena.
Me:
Kind of a long story, but I’m at the farmhouse with Vitya for a few days.
Natalya:
What? As in you two are alone?
Yelena:
When did this happen? Val didn’t say anything about a farmhouse trip.
Lara:
Have you 2 had sex yet?
I laugh at Lara’s comment as I type out a reply.
Me:
No, unfortunately. It was kind of a last minute decision. I promise I’ll explain it all later, but please no one come visit out here. I need time to work my magic. My surly bodyguard is still being surly, but I think he’s slowly falling for my massive amounts of charm. I basically just asked him if he felt anything for me, and he refused to answer and left the room. That’s a good sign, right?
Natalya:
Usually I’d say a guy running off is a bad sign, but in this case, he might as well have just declared his love for you.
Lara:
The man is smitten.
Yelena:
I hear the wedding bells already. I’ll try and keep your brother away, or at least give you a heads-up if he starts heading your way.
Natalya:
Go get ‘em, tiger, and then give us all the details!
In case I have any doubts about what she means, she adds the eggplant emoji, a thumbs up, and several chili peppers. Lara adds in the pregnant woman emoji, and Yelena does the laughing with tears emoji. Lara has no idea how right she is about the baby. It’s just not quite what she’s thinking. The baby is already here, but I’ve never been pregnant, and she technically doesn’t belong to either one of us.
I give them a quick thumbs up and then put my phone away. The last thing I want is to freak Vitya out with my texts. If he had any idea we were discussing him like this, he’d probably walk right out of the house and never come back.
After unpacking our clothes, I venture back into the living room. Samantha’s fallen asleep again, and Vitya must’ve changed modes on the keyboard because it’s playing her a soft lullaby now. He glances over at me and then goes right back to assembling the baby swing he’s working on.
“Need any help?”
“Sure.” He motions for me to sit down and then hands me a metal bar. “Hold that piece while I screw it in.”
I do as he says, watching him put together a baby swing he bought for a little girl he found who’d been severely abused and neglected. Vitya can pretend to be hard all he wants, but I know the truth of it. So many men in his position would’ve just left her to die. They wouldn’t have wanted the responsibility, and they sure as hell wouldn’t have taken her home and then spent a small fortune to make sure she had every comfort available.
We work in silence. He hands me things, and I hold them while he screws it all together until it’s all done and there’s a baby swing sitting in the living room.
“She’ll love this,” I tell him, running my hand over the pink seat with cute bunny pictures on it .
He scratches at his jaw and watches her sleep. “I’m going to unpack the rest of the stuff.”
“Need help?”
“No, it’s fine. Just keep an eye on her.”
I don’t try and stop him when he walks off. I just watch him go and then grab my tote bag. Sitting next to the playpen, I dig out my large sketchpad and charcoal pencils. I’d been working on a sketch of Samantha while we were driving up here, but I can’t resist starting a new one while I have her right in from of me and looking so freaking cute. Like usual, as soon as I start drawing, I go into a focused sort of trance. Everything else fades away while the lines on the page slowly start to transform into a picture of Samantha sleeping. Her small hands are in loose fists, and her pink pacifier fell from her mouth at some point, so I’m able to capture her cute little mouth.
I’m just finishing up the short wisps of her hair when I hear Vitya’s voice in my ear. I had no idea he’d come back into the room, and I startle at the sound.
“That’s really beautiful, Sveta,” he whispers, and he’s so close I can feel the heat of his breath on the back of my neck.
“Thank you,” I whisper back. It’s the first time he’s ever said anything about my art. He’s never even acknowledged it beyond a soft grunt every now and then.
I turn my head to look at him, putting us only a few inches apart.
“I thought you hated my drawings.”
He furrows his brows and leans back, widening the space between us. “Why would you think that?”
“You’ve never said anything about it before. You usually just grunt and look away.”
“I don’t grunt that much.”
“For a while in the beginning, I was seriously worried that you didn’t know how to speak.”
“You always were dramatic,” he tells me, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Please, you’ve got me beat on that one.” When he raises a disbelieving brow, I say, “Want me to go throw some wrappers on the floor?”
“That’s not being dramatic. That’s just being clean.” He shrugs a broad shoulder and looks around the messy living room that’s probably driving him crazy. “I like things to be neat.”
“Well, Samantha will cure you of that fast enough.”
He gives a small smile and looks over at her. “She’s sure as hell trying.”
As if realizing she’s being talked about, Samantha opens her brown eyes and as soon as she sees us, her mouth lifts up in a huge, unmistakeable, gummy grin.
“Vitya,” I say, grabbing his arm in my excitement. “She just smiled!”
He laughs and pulls his phone out, snapping several photos until Samantha stops smiling and realizes she’d rather be held. Her soft whimpers threaten to turn into screams, but I reach in and scoop her up before she can let them loose. I kiss her cheek, making her smile again, and when I look over, I catch Vitya snapping another quick photo before he pockets his phone and says, “Can you watch her while I finish up and start supper?”
“Sure.” I hide my huge smile in Samantha’s neck as I carry her into the kitchen to get her a bottle.
By the time supper is done, I’m about ready to call it a night. I’m exhausted. I’m not sure why watching a baby is so tiring, but it is, and she’s worn me out. She loves her new swing and is happily sitting in it while I grab the plate Vitya holds out for me.
“Wow,” I tell him, eyeing the grilled chicken, asparagus, and potato. He’s even made me a small salad on the side.
We sit at the table while Samantha swings next to us, and the moment is so surreal that it makes me want to laugh. He sees me fighting it.
“What’s so funny?”
I use my fork to wave around us. “This whole thing is just so weird.”
“It is,” he admits. He cuts his chicken up and butters his potatoes while I watch him, still trying to figure out the man who’s been such an enigma to me. I wish he’d tell me everything about himself. I want to know all the details, where he came from, who his family is, why he joined my family’s Bratva, but I know he won’t answer any of my questions, so I keep my mouth shut by eating.
“This is really good,” I tell him. The chicken has a light barbecue sauce on it and it’s juicy and tender, and I never thought I’d like asparagus, but he’s roasted these with olive oil and added parmesan cheese, and the combination has managed to make my least favorite vegetable tasty.
“How’d you learn to cook like this?”
“I just learned,” he says like it’s no big deal. “I didn’t want to eat fast food, and I was tired of restaurants.”
“How old are you?”
He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and looks at me. “Thirty.”
“That gives me hope. Maybe in a decade I’ll be able to cook, too.”
“It’s not that hard.”
“Yeah, but it’s so much easier to just unwrap something.”
“But this is healthier and better for you,” he argues. “Admit it, it tastes better too.”
I chew on a piece of the chicken and pretend to ponder the question. “It is pretty delicious. How are you at making desserts? Because that’s what would really win me over.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with.”
I smile at him and then finish my meal, and when he’s done, I grab our plates and start loading the dishwasher. He cooked, so it’s only fair that I clean. If it feels odd to him that we already have a domestic routine, even though we’ve never so much as held hands, he hides it well. Vitya’s always been unreadable, though. I’ve always assumed he was just grumpy all the time, but I can see that’s more of a cover. He hides behind it. It’s a mask that’s meant to distract you, but now that I’m onto him, I want to know what he’s really thinking and feeling.
After cleaning up, we get Samantha ready for her bath. I’ve never done this before, and I’m terrified I’m going to drop her while she’s all wet and slippery. Vitya picks up on my tension and takes the lead, filling her little bath up with water and making sure it isn’t too hot before he sets it on the towel he’d laid out. She’s lying on another towel next to it, and he quickly starts to undress her.
“She’s pretty good about bath time,” he tells me. “At first, I think she was terrified. I’m not sure she’d ever been given one before, but she warmed up to it pretty quickly.”
He puts her in her bath, and she rewards us with another one of her smiles. The bathtub she’s in puts her at an incline, so her head is safely out of the water, and when she splashes, she lets out a squeal. Her splashes are uncoordinated, and I’m not so sure she has any control over it, but it’s making her happy all the same.
Vitya gets her baby soap and starts lathering her up while she kicks and flings her arms around. Figuring it’s safe enough to jump in, I start working on her hair while he carefully washes her face with a soft cloth.
“She’s going to wear you out tonight,” he warns me. “You sure you want to take turns?”
“I’m not going to make you do every feeding. I’ll be fine losing some sleep.”
He lets out a soft huff. “Uh-huh.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m not trying to say anything. I’m flat-out saying you get really irritable if you haven’t had enough sleep or food.”
“Some people require more sleep than others, Vitya. It’s a well-known fact. It’s not my fault that I’m one of the ones who needs a bit more, and a lot of people get angry when they're hungry. That’s why the word hangry was invented. It wasn’t coined just for me.”
He gives me his usual grunt response, and then helps me rinse her hair. I try not to think about how good his tattooed hands look while caring for a small baby. I’m not exactly sure why it’s so hot, but it is. There’s something about seeing this tough man behaving so gently that really gets to me. It doesn’t help that our bodies are so close together and that his arms and hands keep bumping mine. By the time he’s lifting up a naked but squeaky clean Samantha, I’m convinced I’m never going to make it through the night without wriggling my ass over to his side of the bed.
“Do you mind getting her in her pajamas while I take a quick shower?”
He wraps Samantha in a towel and puts her in my arms while I say, “Sure. Should I go ahead and give her one more bottle when I’m done?”
“Yeah, and then once she falls asleep, the clock starts ticking. She’ll be up every three to four hours until the sun comes up.”
I force a big smile. “Wonderful.”
He gives a soft laugh at my forced enthusiasm and empties her baby tub. While he grabs some clothes and gets into the shower, I work on getting Samantha ready for her bedtime bottle. Taking care of her is starting to feel normal, and it’s so hard to believe that she’s only just recently come into my life. I know that realistically I need to not get attached, but when I’m buttoning up her sleeper and she gives me another big gummy smile, I know it’s impossible to keep my heart out of this. She’s already stolen it, just like Vitya has.
“I’m in so much trouble,” I tell her as I pick her up and walk her into the kitchen to grab her bottle. When it’s ready and she’s happily drinking, I walk her back into the bedroom and sit on the bed with my back propped up against the headboard. The shower is still running, so I keep quietly talking to Samantha.
“Maybe you could try sleeping a little better tonight,” I tell her. “Vitya wasn’t wrong. I do get really cranky when I’m tired, and I think it’s important that he only sees my good side right now.”
Her eyes start to drift closed, but I’m confident she’s still listening, so I keep going.
“Also, the longer you sleep in your crib, the longer I get to sleep in this bed with Vitya, so maybe help a girl out tonight.”
She lets out a soft sigh and empties the last of her bottle, already drifting off to sleep. Trying not to disturb her, I gently lift her up to my shoulder and softly pat her back. I’m still working on trying to get a burp out of her when the bathroom door opens and Vitya steps out. My hand stills mid-pat when I see his wet hair and the tight, black T-shirt he’s wearing. His inked arms are on full display, and instead of his usual jeans, he’s wearing grey joggers. I swallow past my dry throat and try not to stare at his obvious package. He’s not hard, but it’s there, and it’s not easy to pull my eyes away.
“Has she burped yet?”
“Huh?” I ask, still wondering if the nudes I’ve drawn of him are accurate or not.
“Has she burped yet?” he repeats, walking over so he’s standing next to us.
My eyes drift down because they’ve got a mind of their own, and it’s really his fault for standing so damn close to me. He sighs and reaches down to take Samantha from me, patting her back while I ogle his junk. She lets out a soft whimper and then burps before he sets her down in the crib.
“Get ready for bed, Sveta. We need to sleep whenever she is.”
I’m usually not one for taking orders, but it’s either get my ass out of this room or keep gawking at his dick. My pride can’t take the hit, so I grab some pajamas and rush for the bathroom. Knowing I’ll sleep better after a shower, I take a quick one and then brush my teeth. Instead of sleeping naked like I’d threatened, I stick with sleep shorts and a tank. Since he’s teasing me with his grey joggers, I figure it’s only fair to skip the bra.
Before I lose my nerve, I step out, hiding my disappointment when the light is out and he’s already under the covers. There’s a nightlight in the corner, giving me enough to see by, and when I’m close enough to notice that he’s already lying on his side and facing away from me, I let out a heavy sigh of frustration and disappointment and crawl under the covers, wishing the bed wasn’t king-sized.
“I’ll take the first feeding,” he whispers.
“Fine,” I whisper back, and I swear I hear him give a soft laugh at the tone of my voice.
I try to fall asleep, I really do, but it’s not happening, and when I keep tossing around, he groans and flips over .
“Jesus Christ, Sveta, go to sleep.”
“I’m trying,” I mutter, flinging off the blankets that are starting to feel stifling. The truth is I’m horny. I’m really fucking horny, and I can’t stop thinking about how damn close his body is to mine. There’s two years of sexual frustration inside me right now and it’s about to come out and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
“Vitya,” I start to say, but he’s quick to cut me off. It’s like he can sense how close I am to losing control.
“Don’t,” he whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a command.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” I scoot closer to him, but he holds up his hand, the outline of it barely visible from the nightlight’s glow. “Did you seriously put your hand up to stop me?”
“I did, and you need to stop, Sveta. This can’t happen. Not now, not ever.”
His words sting, but instead of backing away, I keep scooting closer, because despite the words coming out of his mouth, I hear the longing in them. I know he wants this just as much as I do. He might be afraid to make the first move, but I’m not, so that’s exactly what I do. I ignore his ridiculous hand barrier and cup his face while I hike one of my legs over his until I’m on top of him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses at me.
A laugh escapes before I can stop it, because we both know I never would’ve gotten this far if he hadn’t allowed it. He’s far stronger than I am, and he could’ve stopped me at any time, but he didn’t. With my body on top of his, it’s impossible for me to not notice how hard he is, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction when I realize that he’s just as miserable as I am.
Before he can come to his senses and toss me off, I close the distance and press my lips to his. The lips that I’ve thought about kissing so many times are just as soft as I knew they would be. His body freezes at my touch, and he lets out a pained groan when I run my tongue along the seam of his lips. He’s too stubborn to open his mouth, so I suck and nibble on one lip at a time, until he finally cups the back of my head and gives in to what he’s feeling.
The feral-sounding groan he gives as he parts his lips and kisses me back has me rocking my hips against him. I’ve never done anything before, but just because I don’t have any experience, doesn’t mean my body doesn’t know what to do. Instincts take over as my tongue runs along his and my fingers thread through his hair.
When he flips us over with an ease that proves he could’ve gotten out of my hold whenever he wanted, I’m more than ready to get naked and take this to the next level. He kisses me hard while he cups the back of my head and presses his chest to mine. I’m completely surrounded by him. The heat of his body, the comforting scent of him, and the feel of his mouth on mine are all working together to drive me crazy.
I wrap my legs around his waist and slip my hands under his shirt, dragging my fingers along his muscled back while I arch my hips up to him. He groans into my mouth while rocking his hips, grinding the hard length of him against my aching center. My heart races as warmth ignites in my core, making me ravenous for more of him.
One of his hands slides under me, cupping my ass and holding me even tighter against him. I can feel the orgasm building, and I cling to him as tightly as I can, knowing I’m just a few rubs away from what I want and need. Right before my body explodes, Samantha lets out an ear-piercing scream that has Vitya breaking our kiss and jumping off the bed to check on her. I’m so dazed it takes me a little more time to get my bearings and climb out of bed. I’m breathless and dizzy and there’s an annoying, unsatisfied ache between my legs.
By the time I get to the crib, Vitya’s already holding her, patting her back while he gently bounces and rocks from side to side. He refuses to meet my eyes when I step closer. There’s no use trying to talk over Samantha’s angry screams, so instead I dig around until I find her pacifier and try to put it in her mouth. She scrunches up her face and refuses to take it. I look up at Vitya for help, but he looks just as clueless as I feel.
“Has she done this before?” I ask over her screams.
“No. She never screams like this. ”
I feel her forehead, but it’s hard to tell if she’s warm from a fever or just hot because she’s pissed off and screaming. Thinking she might just still be hungry, I run off to get her another bottle, but when I come back with it, she refuses to drink. She’s worn herself out. Tears spill down her cheeks, and her breaths are shaky. She wiggles against Vitya’s hold, and the worried look on his face has me reaching out to squeeze his arm, wanting to comfort him.
“She’ll be okay,” I tell him, hoping like hell I’m right, because we both know from firsthand experience how far away the nearest hospital is. “Let me try for a minute.”
He hands her over to me, and as soon as her tiny, shaking body is in my arms, my heart fucking breaks, because all I want to do is make her feel better, but I don’t have the faintest idea how to do that. I kiss her head and lightly bounce her while I sway on my feet. She doesn’t seem to be screaming quite as loudly, but she’s not calming down like I want.
“Google it,” I tell him, because the internet has gotten us this far.
He grabs his phone and starts typing. His brows furrow as he scrolls and reads. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “It could be a million different things.”
“Do you see any suggestions about what to do?”
He scrubs an irritated hand through his hair and looks over at me. “Yeah, there’s a huge fucking list of things.”
Instead of reminding him to not cuss, because now is definitely not the time, I hold a screaming Samantha and say, “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. One of them has to work.”