Chapter 16
ZACH
Piper's defenses sprang up the second things got real. He didn't want to push her, but he wanted her to trust that he could be a safe place to land.
Then he'd had the brilliant idea to invite her to the family dinner. Two birds, one stone, or however that went. They'd hang out, and she'd get time to talk with Anna without Tess.
Tess, who had doubled down and let him know she had a meeting with the higher-ups at the Stallions and would have news for him sometime today or tonight. Honestly, the news could be that they landed the deal… or that she got them free beer tickets for the next game.
He had no idea. But he'd mentioned it to Noah and that was a mistake. Noah had been on his case all afternoon for an update.
Noah: Update?
Zach: Nope. Heading to dinner with the fam.
Noah: Thought tonight was dinner w/ Piper?
Zach: She's coming too.
Zach: She needs to talk to Anna without Tess breathing down her neck.
Noah: Uh-huh. Totally just about Anna.
But as Zach straightened his collar in the mirror for the fourth time, his mind wasn't on contracts or brand expansion or the hundred other things that could go wrong.
No, it was all Piper.
The sound she made when he went down on her. How she slept so soundly curled against him. How she tried to run away that morning. With Piper, peeling back each layer only revealed another contradiction—a deeper truth wrapped in more hesitation.
The entire dinner date could end in emotional carnage. Or food poisoning.
Babushka's special borscht had been known to hospitalize weaker souls. Tonight wasn't a test to see if the family liked her, but it was a test to see if she liked the family.
He sniffed his shirt. One last swipe of deodorant, just to be sure.
It was a simple plan—introduce Piper to the Dvornakovs, extract Anna for some wedding talk, and maybe convince Piper that they could be more than what they already were.
He had this in the bag.
Zach grabbed his keys, spun them once around his finger, and slid them into his pocket.
This was either the best idea he'd ever had or a disaster that would take seven generations to live down.
It'd probably land somewhere in between.
His drive across Denver was a condensed chance for his brain to replay the morning's full-scale Piper retreat, and a solid opportunity for him to question his confidence.
He squashed all that down as he pulled up to her apartment building, the engine humming in the quiet street.
Zach: Here.
A moment later, the front door of her building opened. She walked toward his car with a determined stride, her professional armor firmly in place. Though he caught the slight hesitation in the way she held her purse.
He got out, meeting her on the sidewalk. "Ready for this?"
A small, tight smile touched her lips. "I've reviewed the schematics. I think I can handle it."
"I have faith in you." He held the passenger door for her, a small gesture that felt weighted with all the things they hadn't said since morning. She slid into the seat, her knee brushing his hand as he closed the door, a spark of static that was becoming familiar.
He caught himself sneaking another glance at her. Then another. She didn't notice. She was too busy watching the blur of passing trees and neighborhood houses as if trying to talk herself out of something.
She probably was.
Somehow, she'd managed to look both professional and relaxed in jeans and a blouse that probably had an official color name like "seafoam" or "sage" or something equally specific that he'd never be able to identify.
He nudged the volume knob down, only enough for words to find space.
"So, my family," he started, then cleared his throat. "They're, uh—"
"Enthusiastic wedding planner helpers?" Piper offered.
He snorted. "They have zero chill and maximum opinions. I should probably apologize in advance."
"I've dealt with my family my whole life, Zach. I can handle a family dinner with yours. It'll be cake."
"Yeah, but this isn't just any family dinner.
This is a Dvornakov family dinner, which means someone might interrogate you about your reproductive plans before dessert.
" He paused at a stoplight, turning to face her.
"Just nod, eat everything Babushka hands you unless it's beets, and don't mention astrology, or American cheese. "
Piper raised an eyebrow. "American cheese?"
"Trust me. My dad will spend forty-five minutes explaining why it's not real cheese, and then Jase will defend it just to piss him off, and then you'll be stuck in the middle of the Great Cheese Debate all over again."
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Noted. And astrology?"
"We don't talk about astrology." He shivered. The women in his family had strong opinions about astrological charts stronger than his dad's hatred of pasteurized process cheese.
"Want me to go over names again?"
"Nope, I've got it. I made up a little song in my head, and I've been singing it, so I don't forget."
"I want to hear it."
"No."
"Piper?"
"No."
"Piper?"
"Fine." She cleared her throat and sang, "Sadie is Roman's wedded wife, Heather loves Jase all her life, Anna has Drake to hold on tight, Diana and Alex, Mom and Dad — so right, and Babushka lit the fires so bright."
"You actually wrote a song, damn." He liked it. He seriously liked it. Everything was going to be fine.
The moment they walked through the front door of his parents' house, Zach understood that everything was not going to be fine.
The wheeze of his dad's accordion hit them first, followed by the sounds of too many Dvornakovs in one room.
Someone—probably Babushka—was shouting in Russian from the kitchen. Scents of garlic and sour cream mingled in the air, thick and familiar.
Piper froze beside him.
"I warned you," he whispered.
"Don't mention cheese," she said, under her breath.
"It only works if you don't say the words," he said, making his eyes go wide.
Before she could respond, his brother Roman's, voice boomed. "They're here."
Then Jase appeared in the entryway, holding a toddler who looked suspiciously like she'd been eating chocolate with her entire face. "Finally. Nadia's been asking about Uncle Zach for the last hour."
"She can't even form full sentences yet," Zach laughed, reaching for his niece.
Piper was looking at him a little funny. Probably because he was now covered in residual chocolate.
"Nadia communicates. Loudly. Like her great-grandmother." Jase handed over the squirming child, then turned his attention to Piper. "You must be the wedding wizard who's putting up with my brother's bullshit."
"Jase," Zach warned. Growled. Same thing.
"I'm Piper," she said, extending her hand. "And I wouldn't call it wizardry. More like controlled chaos management."
"Oh, I like her. I'm Jase." He grinned and draped his arm around Piper like she was already part of the pack.
Piper allowed it. Seemed to enjoy having a brotherly hug.
And Zach? Zach didn't know what to do with that.
Nadia chose that moment to grab a fistful of Zach's hair and tug.
"Ow. Careful, tiny terror." He shifted the toddler onto his hip. "This is Nadia. Named after Babushka. Well, Nadzieja, technically, but we call her Nadia."
"Because we're not sadists," Jase added.
"Nadia, this is Piper," Zach continued.
"Thank God Jase used the name," Roman's voice called as he entered from the kitchen, arm wrapped around his wife. "I'm officially off the hook."
"Piper, the guy who looks like he should probably take a day off from the gym? That's Roman. Sadie is the one making googly eyes at him."
"Hello." Piper waved.
Heather strode into the room, wiping her hands on a dishcloth and pausing to introduce herself to Piper before saying, "You are not off the hook, Roman. Not according to Babushka. She was just telling us we need a Nadzieja Two: Electric Boogaloo."
"We're not even expecting," Sadie protested, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
Roman grinned, pulling her closer. "I mean, not yet."
"Who's not expecting what?" his mom asked, heading straight to Piper to give her a hug.
"We're not expecting a baby. Yet. But hold tight, it's not like we're being passive about it," Roman said with a shit eating grin.
"Oh my goodness," Sadie whispered, burying her face in his chest as everyone in the room erupted into cheers and exclamations in half-English, half-Russian.
"Oooh, Nadzieja two," Anna said, sauntering into the room. "Nope. That'd be three, right? Can we call her Zieja? Or Zizi? That's adorable."
"Zizi is cute," Drake chimed in from behind Anna. "What about Nads?"
"Who are we naming?" Zach's dad followed behind Drake, still carrying his accordion.
"Roman and Sadie's eventual kid," Zach said, giving Nadia a squeeze.
"Do not name her after my mother. We already have two. Try something nice like Helen."
"Or maybe Diana?" Mom asked.
"That's a good one, too," Dad agreed.
Sadie groaned with a laugh. "We are not calling our maybe-going-to-happen-someday daughter Nads. We covered this when we were dating."
"Nadzieja means 'hope,'" Roman explained over the commotion. "If it's a girl, I think we could go with Hope."
"Now that's a good name," Dad agreed, adding a few off-key notes for good measure.
Sadie lifted her head, giving her husband a sweet look. "It's perfect."
"What if it's a boy?" Zach asked. "What are you going to name him?"
Roman gave a wicked grin. "Easy. Tractor Beam Kaleidoscope. First name Tractor, middle name Beam Kaleidoscope last name Dvornakov. Very classic."
"Is he serious?" Piper asked, leaning into Zach. He did sound serious.
"I got drunk one night and agreed to it," Sadie said, pulling her lips into a tight line. "I'm totally going with the legal loophole that we cannot enter contracts while intoxicated."
"You weren't that drunk." Roman tsked.
"The name says she was," Zach replied, deadpan.
"If it's a boy we're gonna name him Milo," Sadie assured.
"That is really the opposite end of the naming spectrum from the other option," Piper slid her gaze to Zach.