Chapter 22
W hile Murphy showered, Dexter sneaked to his apartment to grab his things—toiletries for tonight and clothes for work in the morning. He had no idea what Lainey did during that time, but when he arrived in her bedroom she was tucked in, hands clutching the blanket to her chin.
“You look like a virgin bride I just bought off the internet,” Dexter said.
“That’s maybe how I feel,” Lainey agreed, blinking up at him with big eyes.
“Relax. I’m not going to ravish you.” He paused. “Unless you want me to?”
She bit her lip and let go of her tight grip on the covers. “Let’s start with talking and see how it goes.”
“Excellent. This is no big deal, you know. Lots of guys have sleepovers with their wives. I’ve always wanted to. This is a bucket list thing. Don’t ruin it for me.”
She snorted a laugh and relaxed further, pushing down the covers a bit to reveal her sleep attire—an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Albert Einstein.
“Somehow I knew when this moment came I would share it with a German scientist,” Dexter said.
She giggled again and the last of the tension drained out of her. “Thanks for being so great about tonight. About everything, really.”
“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do anything. You shouldn’t thank someone for common decency and good manners.”
“But they’re rare,” Lainey said.
Knowing what Dexter knew of the world, he couldn’t disagree. He started to undress and realized she was watching him. “You’re staring. People don’t usually stare when I do this.”
“Would it make you feel less objectified if I tossed some dollar bills at you and hummed a sultry little tune?” she asked.
“Whatever floats your boat, although I have to say it’s a little unfair that you’re getting the Full Monty here and I missed the show entirely.” He shucked out of his pants and shirt, folded them neatly, and laid them on the chair at the edge of the room, one that was currently draped with no less than five of her shirts and leggings.
“I don’t think this is the Full Monty,” she said, regarding his t-shirt and boxers.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” he declared, arranging his loafers so they were properly aligned at a ninety degree angle under her chair.
“In my defense it took me thirty seconds to toss my clothes into a basket and put on this shirt and you’re taking so long I’m beginning to wonder if you’re gunning for a clothes arranging management position,” she said. “Why do you keep moving the shoes? They’re not going to walk away. They’ll still be in the same position in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep if the angle isn’t right,” he said.
“What about all of my stuff? Doesn’t it bother you that it’s haphazardly strewn?” she said.
“I don’t see it. I think my brain has put up some kind of protective veil that doesn’t allow me to process your mess or else I would spend all my time arranging everything.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
“You’re all kinds of fun,” she said.
He laughed and tossed himself onto the bed beside her. “Says the woman who actually uttered the word ‘meep’ when her brother arrived.”
“Don’t disparage ‘meep.’ It’s the thing you say when the emotions are too big and nothing else will do.”
“You’re pretty cute, for a crazy person,” he said, pushing the stray hairs off her face. She had taken down the messy bun and now her hair was curly. He thought it was beyond cute; it was adorable. This was Lainey at her essence, soft and warm and undone.
“You’re not so bad yourself. A little overdressed, though.” She tapped his t-shirt. “I didn’t know people still wore these white Underoos. Tell me, do your garters hold your socks up well, or do they occasionally slip?”
With a heavy sigh, he sat up and took off his shirt. He started to fold it, but she snatched it away and tossed it onto the Chair Of Things.
“That’s going to wrinkle,” he said, tone pained.
“So am I, if you wait any longer to come to bed,” she said. “Why are you still on top of the covers? Are you afraid of me? Are my wiles more potent than I know?”
He surveyed her, streaky blond hair splayed alluringly on her pillow, folded softly as if someone had carefully laid her out for his inspection. Was she still wearing makeup, or was she actually that pretty in the middle of bedtime?
“Meep,” he said and was rewarded when she laughed. She held the covers up for him and he slipped beneath them, somehow managing to reach for her in the process. She snuggled into him with a little sigh of contentment. He kissed the top of her head.
Since he had taken off his shirt, her sleepy fist had nothing to twine. She contented herself with stretching her fingers over his stomach, brushing her thumb over the hairs there. He could feel her slipping toward slumber, but he was anything but sleepy. As the moments ticked, he became more awake, more aware. It was as if every stroke of her thumb on his stomach shot little pinpricks of electricity to all the other parts of him, telling him to wake up, step up, be a man, and do something important.
He shifted toward her slightly and let his hand glide from its resting spot at her waist to grip behind her thigh, tugging her insistently closer. Her eyes popped open.
“Oh, hey, you’re still here,” she murmured.
“Yep,” he said.
“Hmm.”
They stared at each other. He could see the uncertainty and indecision warring in her features and he let her stew, not wanting to push her in any direction. If they took an irredeemable step, he wanted it to be fully her decision with no coercion from him. That meant he had to be hands off, quite literally, because he was definitely in the mood to coerce.
He remained painfully frozen for what felt like an eternity, allowing her to think it through and decide. When she finally tipped forward and brushed her lips on his, he wanted to throw an impromptu ticker-tape parade. Instead he settled for kissing her back, molding her body against his while his lips worked her to remain soft and yielding. Even in his love-drunk haze, he understood hard and insistent kisses were not the way right now. Lainey was vulnerable.
She made a sweet little sound—of pleasure or surrender? He had no idea, but it nearly drove him over the edge of reason as she twined her arms around him and plunged her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. He was almost too far gone, almost under completely, but one tiny thought kept trying to intrude, dragging him back to reality.
Lainey was vulnerable. Why was Lainey vulnerable? What was he trying so hard to simultaneously remember and also forget? What happened to Lainey that made her vulnerable to his words, his kisses, his affection and attention?
The little voice grew louder and more insistent as little snippets of memory began to filter back to him. At last that voice became louder than all the others and he broke away, putting a few inches between them as he sucked oxygen.
“Meep?” Lainey tried.
He shook his head and held up a hand. What was he doing? This was everything he wanted. Was he the biggest idiot in the world? Undoubtedly yes, but he couldn’t stop his lips from uttering what came next.
“Lainey, who is Ian?”
“ D exter is sad,” Yuri declared. Once again the brothers had been staring at him all morning.
“Dexter is fine,” Dexter assured them. Their office had multiple spaces for multiple uses, and yet somehow the five of them always ended up in the conference room together with Dexter as the honorary little brother, privy to all their teasing and jabs.
“No, is droopy face. Look at it. Mr. Floppy Jowls,” Maxim added.
“No floppy jowls. Just Dexter.”
“Is trouble in married paradise,” Andrei guessed.
“No trouble, just a short night,” Dexter said and regretted giving them even that much when they wolf whistled and high fived his good fortune. “Not like that. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
“You always sleep well,” Ivan accused, squinting. “Why no sleep now? Is business bad?”
“Is bankruptcy, yes?” Yuri said, leaning forward in sudden anxiety.
“I will go dismantle marble from entrance,” Andrei volunteered.
“Stop, no, come back,” Dexter called because already Andrei was halfway out the door and heading for the emergency crowbar. It was good to know the brothers kept it to dismantle the marble and not to beat their enemies, especially with the threat of The Hungarians still looming.
He took a breath. “Business is fine, amazing, in fact. We’ve never been better. Even The Bristols are happy.” He almost beamed, but he couldn’t help it. The brothers had been doing an amazing job of keeping their noses clean lately, which was especially miraculous with The Hungarians always hovering on the periphery, trying to provoke a response.
“Then why Mr. Floppy Jowls?” Ivan asked.
“I’m not…I don’t have…” Dexter said, massaging the pressure point between his eyes.
“Is Lainey? Is crazy?”
“Of course not. I mean sort of, but in a good way,” Dexter said. There was no way he could tell the brothers what was actually going on, no way he could seek their advice. Could he?
When he dropped his hand, they were all staring at him, matching expressions of dark concern.
“I met her brother,” he said.
“And he is crazy,” Maxim guessed. “You maybe need us to make him disappear?”
“What? No, don’t disappear anyone. He’s fine. He lives in Florida. I probably won’t see him very much.”
“Then what is problem? He is not approving of you for sister?”
“He seemed to approve okay. But he has this best friend, Ian.”
“Grown man with best friend? Are you sure he’s grown?” Andrei said.
“Is American,” Maxim reminded them, and they nodded their combined understanding.
“Brother has bestie. Continue,” Ivan invited.
“The guy, the best friend, he’s sort of…he was kind of…I think Lainey’s in love with him.”
The brothers stared at him, silent and unblinking until at last Maxim mustered a response. “And he’s the one you want us to make disappear? The one your wife is cheating with?”
“Would not be the first time,” Yuri said, and the other brothers again nodded their agreement.
“No, it’s not like that. She’s not cheating. She hasn’t spoken to him since we got married. And she told me up front about him, but back then it was all theoretical, and now…”
“Is real,” Yuri guessed.
Dexter nodded.
“This is why Popovs do not fall in love. Destroys a man from the inside,” Ivan said, dabbing the heel of his palm against his eyes as Yuri gave an oversized sniff.
“If we are not making man disappear, what are we to do?” Andrei asked.
“Nothing,” Dexter said. “I knew going into it what the deal was. I can only be who I am. Everything else is on Lainey.”
“No, I refuse to accept,” Maxim said, banging his fist on the table.
“Is time for grand gesture,” Yuri declared.
“Yes, grand gesture,” Andrei agreed. The other brothers nodded their enthusiastic agreement, too.
“I don’t do grand gestures,” Dexter reminded them. “That’s not me. I’m a slow-and-steady-wins-the-race kind of guy.”
“But in real life slow and steady guy gets run over by guy in tank,” Ivan said.
“Happened to our Uncle Lev,” Yuri said, crossing himself. “Rest his soul.”
“There’s nothing I can do,” Dexter said. “It’s up to Lainey now. The party is in two weeks, and then she’ll need to decide how this thing ends.”
“Dexter, don’t take wrong way, okay? Is not insult, is observation: you are too passive, like little girl. Women, they don’t like that. Women like men, real men who act like men. Who make big declaration with grand gesture.”
“Let us help with gesture, yes?” Ivan said hopefully as the other brothers leaned forward.
“Guys, don’t take this the wrong way, okay? It’s not an insult, it’s an observation: absolutely none of you has ever had a successful relationship, let alone been married.”
“Oh, so harsh, Dexter,” Ivan said, dabbing his eyes again.
Dexter sighed. “This is not an appropriate work topic, and I would love to drop it. Can we please get back to work?”
“Yes, but you are making big mistake,” Yuri said.
“Big mistake,” the other brothers echoed before, thankfully, returning their attention to work.
Their productivity was short lived when Sonya arrived, taking a seat at the table without a word until she had every man’s rapt attention. One by one they stopped what they were doing and stared at her, waiting for her to speak. Dexter was the last to give in and focus on her, and he was apparently the one she was waiting for because she remained mute until she had his full notice.
“The Hungarians are on the move,” she declared.
“The move? What do you mean the move?” Dexter asked.
“They are gunning for The Bristols,” Sonya said.
“How could you possibly know that?” Dexter asked.
“I know all,” Sonya said. “I know, for instance, that is not love match with little American wife girl. Is, how you say, marriage of convenience?”
“That’s not relevant to The Hungarians,” Dexter said, waving her away.
“Is relevant to me, though, because after party, after sham marriage is over, you and I have some things to discuss, yes?”
With effort, Dexter controlled his shudder. He hadn’t missed Sonya’s attempts to pin him down—sometimes quite literally—these last few weeks. More than that, he hated the way she made it sound, as if he and Lainey would be finished after the party. That wasn’t the case, was it?
“Tell me more about the Hungarians,” he insisted. “What are they up to with The Bristols?”
“They are making moves, big moves. Laying on charm, promising to undercut our prices,” Sonya said.
“What?” Yuri said. “Our prices are best wholesale, everyone knows this.”
“It won’t work,” Dexter agreed. “The Bristols won’t go for that. They made certain we understood what they were after—class and respect. We give them that.”
Sonya quirked one of her perfect eyebrows at him. “You underestimate charm. It works, and the head Hungarian is good at it.”
“He sent us a dead fish,” Dexter reminded her.
“He is king of grand gestures.”
Yuri clucked his tongue, reminding Dexter that he was not the king of grand gestures.
“What should we do?” Ivan asked, his glance wavering between Dexter and Sonya like they were the parents in an ugly custody dispute. If Dexter were being honest, that was how it felt some days.
“Is up to Dexter,” Sonya said, giving one of those whole body shrugs the Eastern Europeans did so well. “Is what we pay him for, no? To be sensible .”
Once again all eyes were on Dexter. “We keep doing what we’re doing. If The Hungarians want to make fools of themselves, let them. Our prices, our work, and our behavior speak for us.”
All the brothers looked to Sonya who took her time replying. “I agree for now. But, Dexter, barn can only keep the ponies inside for so long before they break free. Something to keep in mind.” She stood and sashayed closer, bending low to whisper seductively in his ear. “You tell your little American wife hello from me, yes? I think she and I could have a lot to talk about soon.” She scraped the long nail of her index finger along his shoulder and sauntered out the door.