Chapter 34
Widow
“Hey.”
I turn to find Scarlett standing in the doorway to the living room, shoulder leaned up against the jamb like she was watching me for a while before bothering to say anything.
A wry smile hooks my lips as she saunters across the plush carpet in slippers and a red negligee that she covers up by belting the green plaid robe around her waist.
“Hey. Worried that grandma might see you lookin’ like a fox?
” I ask, seated on the couch with the best view of the thirty-foot Christmas tree situated in the corner of the cavernous room.
It’s draped in swags of white lights and decorated with boxes of Alexei’s mom’s ornaments.
That meant a lot to me, him lettin’ me hang that shit.
Half the stuff in this house belonged to his dead parents, and he’s not selfish about it, not at all.
Contrary to my own well-placed fears, I actually am starting to feel like I live here for real.
“Worried that you might see me lookin’ like a fox and then we’ll end up doing something Gram’ll hate a lot more than some flimsy red lace and a dash of silk.
” Scarlett comes over to me and sits on my lap, her eyes shifting from the tree to the open windows.
Yep. I did it. I opened not only the living room shutters, but also the glass.
It’s foggy and cool and wet this morning.
I like the ambiance. The quiet. The dewy trees outside.
The kitchen, stocked with groceries. Even the whole ‘cuck’ thing has stopped feeling like an insult.
Spending Christmas Day here, with these people, is a dream and not a nightmare. It’s a blessing and not a compromise.
“Fair point.” I curl an arm around Scarlett’s waist and pull her against me, putting my nose to her hair and breathing in the smell of chocolate and cherries and shampoo.
Soft footsteps precede Alexei as he comes into the room with a pair of mugs, steaming with fresh coffee. “You’re probably right about that.”
Alexei sets the mugs down on the coffee table as Scarlett glances his way.
I got up freakishly early this morning. Couldn’t sleep for shit.
I’ve never had a Christmas morning like the ones you see in movies, where everyone is excited and happy.
With presents. And cinnamon rolls. And family that gives a crap whether you live or die.
This is all new to me, and I had insomnia butterflies.
Anyway, I got up early and Alexei followed me, offering to make the coffee and give Ash a chance to sleep in.
“Happy birthday, by the way.” Scarlett nuzzles my face in a way that makes me so goddamn crazy I could scream. Only out of joy though. I’m filled to bursting with emotions that are so new to me that everyday is like Christmas, swear to fuck. “And merry Christmas to my married merry freaks.”
I put a finger on her chin and turn her face toward me, leaning in and shivering with pleasure when she opens her mouth for me. My tongue dominates the interaction, one of my hands on the back of her neck, the other pushing up her robe to caress her bare knee.
“Merry Christmas,” Alexei replies, while we’re in the middle of making out.
He takes a seat on the other end of the couch.
Can’t see him with my eyes closed, but I can feel the couch dip with his weight.
We’ve been down here for a while now, just talking.
He has so many good holiday memories, traditions that seem so natural and normal to him but are completely foreign to me.
Scarlett and I pull apart, and it’s not easy.
Her body is warm and soft on my lap, and her mouth is sweet.
That pitch-black hair of hers is a wave of silk against my bare arms, coming loose from her braid and spilling all over the place like a waterfall of ink.
I don’t want to be selfish though. This is Alexei’s first holiday without his dad, in the very same house where the poor bastard was murdered.
“Hey.” Scarlett puts her hands on either side of my face, leaning in and touching the tips of our noses together. “Don’t go getting too chivalrous on me. I can see it in your head, all those righteous ideals. It’s your birthday. Be a little selfish today, sweetheart.”
With a scowl that’s only skin deep, I push her hands away and scoff.
“I still owe you a proper date, remember? You raced me for it at the track. Don’t think I’ll forget about that.
” I lean back in the cushions, wondering about the scattering of wrapped boxes at the base of the tree.
It’s not like anyone here had time to go Christmas shopping, so where did those come from?
“If we weren’t at risk of being killed by Jonas, we’d take you out tonight.
Wouldn’t we, Alexei?” Scarlett makes a sexy, little face with her lips pushed out, lashes fluttering.
Hands reaching down to the tie of her robe and undoing it.
The green fabric slides down her shoulders and falls to the floor as I narrow my eyes suspiciously.
“Certainly, darling,” Alexei replies, sipping his coffee and staring longingly through the open window.
“Will we have private dates in the future? Just you and me.” I’m curious about that. Either way, I’m here to stay. Either way, this is as close to heaven as I’ve ever come in my short, miserable life. I won’t take it for granted.
“Mm.” Scarlett pulls her top down, baring her breasts in my face. “Sure. Like, me and you at a table of our own. The other boys at a separate table in the same restaurant. I could handle that.”
“You said you were worried about Gram…” My hands find the curve of Scarlett’s waist as I dip my head and take one of her hard brown nipples between my teeth. Scar buries her fingers in my hair, holding my head to her and moaning shamelessly.
I hear the sound of rapid footsteps, like the shushing of slippers.
“You two best wrap that up,” Ash whispers frantically from the doorway, and then he curses in Japanese, reaching up to grab at the back of his head like he’s been hit. Fear spikes through me, even with Scarlett’s nipple still tucked in my mouth. Assassination attempt?!
Patricia Force appears on one side of Ash while Bohnes materializes on the other. The former is holding a rolled-up magazine while the latter is shirtless and yawning, scratching at his lower belly absently. He, too, is smacked with that magazine, right in the belly button.
I very quickly release Scarlett from the prison of my teeth, trying to help her cover her tits up before—
“Ow, Gram!” Scarlett howls as she gets a similar smack to the back of the head by her grandma. I’m whapped mercilessly on my head, a fate that Alexei soon shares. It’s me and Scarlett though that Patricia keeps attacking with that stupid Christmas magazine in her hand.
“I don’t care if you’re married,” Patricia huffs, panting as she exerts herself by beating us. Alexei is the one who grabs her wrist, carefully sliding the magazine from her grip and offering up an apologetic look in response.
“Madam, if you’d restrain from beating my lovers inside our own home, I’d appreciate that.
If we were in your house, I’d respect your rules.
As it stands, our rules are the only ones that matter here.
” Alexei pauses with the magazine in his gloved hands, exchanging a look with me as I rub at the back of my head with a scowl on my lips.
Crap. I don’t wanna be Patricia’s least favorite guy. Quick as I can, I wipe the nasty expression off my face and stand up, finding myself oddly embarrassed at having been caught out in the living room on Christmas morning.
“Good thing I decided against sleeping in today,” Bohnes mutters, rubbing at the pink spot on his abs with a frown. “Although, Gram, I’m curious why we all got a beating. Shouldn’t violence be reserved for degenerate behavior?”
“If you’re all married, then you’re all responsible for this…this…” Patricia flaps her hands at me and Scarlett. Pretty sure we’re both blushing. Huh. Yeah. The King and Queen of Prescott, heads hanging in shame after a beating from grandma. “Keep it in the bedroom.”
She huffs again, turning her brown eyes over to Ash. He’s still holding the back of his head, wearing an apron and slippers. He cringes when Patricia’s gaze lands on him.
“Help me with the cinnamon rolls,” she barks, turning on her heel and heading into the kitchen like she really is the one that owns this place.
Scarlett stares after her with a mix of wryness and hope, a determination.
She will fix her relationship with her grandma, even with her sister’s murderer as a husband. Sheer stubbornness.
“I don’t feel like I accomplished much of anything with that.
” Alexei sighs and tosses the magazine onto the coffee table as Bohnes shuffles into the room in bare feet, squatting down by the tree and smiling at the packages piled around its base.
We have a tree skirt here, a gold and red and white one that Alexei’s mother made.
A toy train runs around the tree, too. Apparently that one was a gift from Alexei’s mom to his dad.
We could all learn a lot of non-violent romance tricks from his parents.
“You defended me,” I tell Alexei, rubbing at my own head the way Ash is doing. He wants to follow Patricia and help her cook. He also doesn’t want to leave us in the living room. He’s attached. Damn it, but so am I. “You accomplished a lot, at least when it comes to my opinion of you.”
Alexei smiles.
“Whose gifts are those?” Ash wonders, dropping his hand and creeping a little further into the room. His apron and slippers are red and green, borrowed from another box of Alexei’s mother’s things. That must be nice, having a little piece of family in an heirloom, even if that person is long gone.