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Whiskey Sharp: Jagged
Whiskey Sharp: Jagged

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Whiskey Sharp: Jagged

Язык: Английский
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She turned, her face close enough that he could really see her eyes. The amber fringe of color around the pupil. “Yes,” she said.

“Sometimes I’m not entirely sure how to talk about certain things with you. Not because you’re fragile or because I pity you. But I don’t want to stumble into something that brings up bad memories. So I apologize in advance for the times when I’m going to put my foot in it.”

She swallowed and then nodded. “You didn’t. Stumble into something. It’s always with me. What happened. It’ll never completely go away and that’s how it is. So yes, I didn’t protect Maybe from my father and I didn’t protect those women Price killed before they found me. But they’re not the same thing anyway.”

She busied herself with food awhile as they drank wine and were just together, but silent.

“I think he will fight. I think he will try to pull strings. I think he will hurt Maybe to get to me. I think he underestimates me and how far I’ve come. And I think he overestimates how good he was at his job when he compares his skills to mine,” she said at last.

Vic nodded his head. This was good too. She wasn’t going to let this stop her from living the life she’d worked so hard for.

And it was really fucking hot when she got mad and a little violent.

“Yeah? You were a hot shit FBI agent looking all tough and sexy as you brought down the bad guys. Your sister has sung your praises more than once.”

“Maybe is good for my ego.” Rachel shrugged. “I was good at it. Better than he ever was. And that never occurred to me until this mess. I was just glad they were proud. I simply had no idea that to them pride was such a poisonous thing. But he wanted to put me and Maybe in enemy boxes and all he managed to do was put himself there instead.”

“Is there no going back? Nothing he could do to fix this?” Vic knew it was easy to be in his place and make judgments about what she should do. He thought Richie Dolan was bad for his daughters. Toxic. He’d done and said things that seemed impossible to get past. But sometimes families did.

“I don’t think so. I can forgive a lot. But what they did to Maybe? And what they’re trying to do to me now? Take away my freedom. Cage me? No. And that they don’t seem to understand why that’s a problem? I feel like they should know me better. But I guess I didn’t know them very well either. No. There might be a time when I could be in the same room and not want to punch his face, but I don’t think I’ll ever be happy to see him again. He broke something important and some things can’t be fixed.”

“Some people can’t be fixed. He’s an adult. A parent. He makes his own choices. No one can look at you now and think you’re not in control of your own life, Rachel.”

“I’m outraged, you know? Like, how dare he try to do this to me? He’s disrespecting me and my life. My friends. My sister and best friend. Their daughter!”

He rather liked seeing her this way. Not that she was experiencing emotional upset—but the passion in her tone, the way she held herself, spine straight—it was bold and exciting. Intriguing and sexy as fuck.

“And now they’re here on this date in this seriously wonderful little bistro. I apologize,” she told him.

“You apologize too much for things you don’t own.”

“You brought me flowers again. Daffodils and larkspur. And pastry shaped like a heart. You’re bringing your A game.”

That pleased him. That she teased and opened up a little bit, sharing a private part of herself, though he hadn’t failed to notice her changing the subject about always apologizing for things other people did.

“I don’t do anything halfway,” he said of his courtship game.

“So, today I dealt with that stuff with my parents. The attorney is going to handle all the response to this conservatorship stuff as well. Then I went back to work, but on my way stopped at that little clothing shop between my bus stop and Ink Sisters. There was a sale. Always a good thing. So I then went to work, where they’d just ordered lunch including a burrito for me. Also a good thing. Then it was super busy until I got off work and met you at the curb. And now I’m here with you.”

He took her hand, turning it to kiss her wrist before letting it go. “And now you’re here with me. Which is most definitely the best thing in my day.”

“I’ve told you all about my day. Tell me about yours.”

He watched the deliberate way she moved, the choices she made, how she combined and tried new things as they arrived at the table.

“Work. Stayed after we closed to help with cookie baking for this group my mom and aunts are all into at the church. They bake and then take the stuff to all the older people who are on their own. Visit with them a little, you know? She sent me and Evie over here to the market to pick up some fruit. Then made me bake for them and drink tea. They were heading out when I left to come get you.”

“Of course all those babushkas wanted you to cook for them and make tea. I mean, look at you. Anyway, it’s nice. Your whole brood are just really nice people. Except Rada. She’s a jackwagon.”

Vic nearly choked at the mention of Alexsei’s ex, who had been less than friendly to Maybe. “To be fair, she did give him a head’s up about your sister looking like she might need help.” Rada was complicated. As Evie’s best friend, she’d been part of their family a long time. She’d been worried Maybe would push her out of the family for good since she and Alexsei had already been broken up for nearly a year.

“I didn’t say she was an evil master villain. But she’s not nice. I’m not nice either, it’s how some of us are.”

He thought about that for a bit. “I think you’re nice.”

“I do nice things sometimes. But I’m not nice. It’s not an insult. It’s just a personality type.”

“Huh. Okay, I’m going to ruminate over that awhile because I’m not sure if I agree or disagree. Were you... Never mind.”

“What? Was I nice before?” she asked the question he hadn’t known if he had the right to.

“Yes.”

“I think I did all the things I was expected to. I helped people in trouble in my job. I had a fiancé who had a very good job and very nice teeth.”

“Always important,” he said to make her snicker.

“Anyway, it was a good life. I don’t want to make it seem like before I was taken I hated my situation. It was a life I was happy in. And then something happened and turned it all upside down. A lot of things weren’t strong enough to survive the carnage. But some of those, like the fiancé, weren’t quite what I believed they were from the start.

“And after I’d come through it all, after everything insubstantial had burned away, I started a different life. And I wasn’t nice anymore.”

He ate as he got himself back together. She unraveled him. Not something he was entirely comfortable with.

“Okay. I can see that.” Though he thought she was pretty damned nice, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her what she felt and who she was. “What are you doing this weekend? I’ve got both days off and I was thinking of a hike up at Tiger Mountain. It’ll be cold, but clear. Have you hiked it?”

“No, but it’s on my list.”

“It’s not super strenuous, but a good workout. I promise to take it easy on you.”

She snorted. “How do you know you won’t need it the other way around?”

“Who says I want you to take it easy? Maybe I like it hard.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. Or maybe he did but he hadn’t meant it to sound so very suggestive.

But she wasn’t offended. Not at all, unless he was misreading the way her eyelids went half-mast.

“Perhaps I like it hard too.”

Holy shit. What the hell was he supposed to do with that image? Except think about how to make it reality.

“I think we need hot chocolate. And a fire,” he said around a suddenly thick tongue. “I even have the supplies to make whipped cream for it. I’ll walk you home afterward.”

* * *

SHE SHOULD HAVE said no but she didn’t.

Instead, he tucked her up on his couch and made them both hot chocolate with fresh whipped cream while she basked in the heat of the fire and watched him.

His house was the same sort of tri-level ranch house their neighborhood was dotted with, but with a modern touch. Dark wood floors with burnished steel. The overstuffed couch she was on was plush and deep green with nail head accents.

It was a decidedly chic, adult space. Classic. Sophisticated. He was way more than she’d expected. Her mistake really, she should have paid better attention. But naturally she got caught up in that face of his.

She was only human, after all.

“So tell me about your favorite tattoo lately,” he said as he joined her.

“That I’ve given?”

He nodded.

“I’m still giving it. A half sleeve. It’s a cardinal. Full color.” She indicated the way the bird lay around the curve and muscle of the upper arm. “Wings open. There’s a lot of fine line work with the feathers.”

“What about it makes you so proud of it?”

She thought awhile about the exact words to use. “It takes a steady hand. It’s scary at first when you’re inking someone. This is a big piece. A mistake is forever. I was nervous but since I just jumped and did it, it’s turning out really awesome.”

“You’re a risk taker.”

“Not so much anymore.”

“Making art is taking risk. You create something and throw it out there to rise or fall. That takes guts. And tattooing is forever. Well, there’s cover-ups and removal but you know what I mean.”

“I do.” She hadn’t thought of it like that but he was sort of right. “You’ve got the heart of a poet.”

“Evie says the same. I can’t see it.”

Without thinking about it, she reached out and pulled his hair free to tumble down. “You even have the hair and the face of a fallen angel.” It had been intended to tease but damn it if it wasn’t true.

“I tell myself I’m going to keep it slow and easy and then you go and say things like that. So delicious, right here under my nose for three years. You’d think after three years I’d have more chill, but I don’t.”

She drew a shaky breath. “I really shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be telling you all this stuff and thinking about how you kiss. There’s something about you, Vic. I say things I don’t intend to. I want things I shouldn’t. It scares the hell out of me.”

It was only the second date, but it was way deeper than that. They’d been developing a relationship for years and it seemed like now that they’d finally stepped into this new romantic thing between them, the intimacy had sharpened.

After years of living a very pared-down life, focused on herself and surviving, it was tender, nearly raw to let someone as close to her as she found herself doing with Vic.

“I’m not that person. I make good choices. I’m responsible. I pay my bills on time and I turn the water off when I’m brushing my teeth,” she told him.

He put his mug down, taking hers as well before turning back to her and enfolding her hands with his own.

“Are you suggesting I’m a bad choice?” he asked, teasing.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?”

He leaned closer, touching his lips to her cheek quickly. “You have an amazing butt and anything you wear makes it look great.”

“You’re not a bad choice.” Especially when he said stuff like that. “I’m just being weird. I did warn you. Let’s make out.”

His smirk told her he knew she was changing the subject and also that he was down with a lot of kissing.

He pulled her closer and then into his arms, crosswise over his lap. She squirmed just enough to get a lay of the land, so to speak.

Well now. There was some big country going on.

With a growl, he cupped her jaw, turning her to angle her mouth just how he wanted it. Their first kisses the day before had been sweet and sexy. But this...this was an utter devastation.

He nipped and nibbled, licked and sucked every part of her mouth until she was a warm puddle of purring woman, arms around his neck to keep from drowning in him.

He branded himself all over her. The heat of his hands—one splayed on her thigh, the other at her hip—seared. His taste burned itself into her memory so deep she knew she’d never forget.

A sexual fire within her burst into life, sending sparks of need through her as she urged him closer.

Yes. Fuck yes. More. More. More. She shifted her hold, fingers digging into his shoulders, holding him to her.

He hummed, as if she were delicious. “Gonna take a while to get down to the center of you,” he said against her lips.

She might have come just hearing those words.

Against her ass, his cock was hard and ready and big. All the protestations that she wasn’t a size queen flew out the window in the face of the very large penis that came along with this very hot Russian.

“I’m not going anywhere, so feel free to be thorough.”

He laughed, setting her back on the couch beside him. “I plan to spend a great deal of time on you, Rachel Dolan, with your wary eyes and that mouth that makes me weep.”

“I don’t want to make you weep,” she said, her lips quirking up into a smile. “Well, maybe I’d like to make you beg.”

He leaned in and stole a kiss that left her mouth swollen and tingly. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. I’m going to walk you home now.”

“Wait. What?” She looked at the clock, noticing it was already after eleven thirty. He had to get up early and she’d gotten all caught up in her hormones. “Later than I thought.”

He pushed his hair away from his face. “It’s not that. The occasional night where I don’t get at least six hours is fine. You’re worth it and I can always nap after work. I just want to take some time. I want you to crave me the way I crave you. And when we finally end up in bed—and we both know we will—it’s going to be mind-blowing. I like this stage. Full of anticipation. Discovery. I know your favorite color, but I didn’t know you’d like heart shaped pastry.”

“Who doesn’t like pastry in any shape? What are they? Monsters?”

“I like to sip and savor.” He stood and held a hand out. “You’re complex and layered, I’m going to enjoy you.”

She allowed him to pull her to her feet and then he helped her into her coat, again pausing on the porch to zip her up.

“I liked our second date,” she told him as they walked up her front steps.

“I did too. I think the third will be awesome as well.”

“I have high hopes,” she told him, deadpan.

Once they’d gotten inside it was to find Maybe and Alexsei were sprawled on the couch, all snuggled up and looking adorable.

“You get points for walking her in,” Maybe told Vic.

He bowed to her and then turned back to Rachel. “I’m sure I’ll see you before Saturday.”

“Chances are, yes.”

He bent and kissed her right there in her house and even though they’d just kissed for like forty-five minutes, it got her all starry-eyed again.

He and Alexsei blabbered on about something or other before he headed out and she pretended not to watch his progress from her bedroom window. Which worked until he turned, looked right up at her bedroom window and waved.

CHAPTER FIVE

MAYBE SHOWED UP before Rachel had even finished taking off her makeup.

“No, we didn’t have sex. Yes, we kissed. A lot. Like, he’s a tasting menu of kissing and it’s mind-blowing. I think I might combust when we finally fuck.”

Maybe closed her mouth and just watched Rachel finish up before following her out to the bedroom.

Finally her sister broke with an excited little dance. “So this is really good and I’m trying hard not to show just how excited I am so as not to spook you but I need details.”

After she got changed into warm pajamas, she and her sister got under the blankets. “It was a nice date. He took me to that little French bistro at Pike Place. He asked me questions about who I was as a person, as an artist.” She fell silent for a bit. “Perhaps that’s why I react to him so strongly.”

“That or the fact that you’ve known him for a few years and over the last six months especially you two have been circling one another slowly. That’s like foreplay.”

“He just clicks all my buttons. It feels like a lot. And the old Rachel would have been suspicious of it and avoided him until it went away.”

“As I happen to be feeling pretty intensely about Alexsei right now I can relate. It’s a loss of control to be that into someone. To be feeling all those chemicals bubbling around. The attraction, the sense that this person is unlike anyone else you’ve come across.”

It did feel a little like the way she did just after riding a roller coaster.

“And,” Maybe continued, “you’re not that Rachel anymore. So there’s a thing. An important thing. And it’s not like you’ve been choosing one terrible dude after the next. You just haven’t really been choosing at all. Past the scratching that itch stage.”

“It’s intense.”

“Totally.” Maybe rested her head on Rachel’s shoulder a little while. “Tell me the rest.”

“We had dinner. He’s a door opener and a chair puller outer. You know? He’s gentlemanly without being controlling. Bossy and used to getting his way probably through charm alone. And, Maybe, his face! How the hell can I resist? Which is rhetorical because I’m not resisting. I haven’t made out with a dude in a long time. Probably since college. It’s a simple pleasure. I could do it every day, much like eating bread and drinking coffee. Funny how he’s related to two of those things. I just...when I’m with him I don’t feel broken.”

Or maybe that the way she was broken was okay. And beautiful.

“We’re going on a hike this weekend.”

Maybe turned to give Rachel a face. “Ew. Well, you two kids have fun while I won’t be hiking. Or outside in the cold when I don’t have to be. Weirdo.”

“It’s nice to be able to go on a hike. It’s been a while.” She loved hiking but after the kidnapping it had taken her two years before she’d drummed up the courage to go into the woods again.

“You do look super cute in your hiking gear. Wear those spandex pants that make you look like you’re training to be in the next dystopian action movie I can’t wait to watch.”

Rachel laughed even as she knew the exact pair of pants her sister meant and put them into a contender spot. They were great in wet weather, kept her warm and made her butt look fantastic.

“I have heart-shaped vatrushka with strawberry. I was going to have a cup of tea. I’ll share with you and your wild bearded Russian.”

“Score. He brought gelato home and I think it should go with all that.”

“He’s a super useful new roommate. I’m just going to get that out there,” Rachel said.

“I agree. He’s even more useful to me. And I mean that in a totally sexual way,” Maybe told her as they got out of her bed.

“I figured that out.”

“Just wanted to be sure you understood.”

Rachel flipped her off.

* * *

FRIDAY EVENING WHEN she and Maybe walked up the street from the bus stop, Irena came out to the front porch and called to them.

“Come have tea. I made golubtsi, you can have some too.”

“We’ll be over after we drop our things off,” Rachel told her as they hurried up to their front door.

“Looks like a full house over there. I can’t believe Alexsei didn’t mention that.” Maybe dumped her backpack into the closet. “I need to change. I’ll meet you back here ASAP.”

Naturally, she freshened up and brushed her teeth. If Vic was there, she might kiss him. But she did it quickly because neither Dolan sister wanted to make Irena wait.

“Come over for tea,” Maybe muttered as they approached the front door. “There’s a full-on family dinner situation going on in there.”

Rachel really liked the big family events at the Orlovs’. Loved not just the volume of food, but the people, the easy back-and-forth between them as they teased, lectured and shared news.

Sometimes it got heated—well, often—but it wasn’t mean. Lots of passion. Rachel hadn’t known how to handle it at first. They’d grown up with quiet judgment from their mother and reprimand from one source only, their father.

Vic opened up, smiling at them both as he stepped back to admit them. “Come through. She’s already making you plates.”

He gave her a hug and brushed his lips over hers. A kiss that told everyone in the house they were together. A kiss Rachel knew the rest of the family was okay with as no one stopped what they were doing, though they all noticed.

Pavel shouted a hello before enveloping Maybe in a big hug and then, surprising Rachel, he gave her one too. Though not as ebullient as Maybe’s, which made her choke up a little. He knew enough to want her to know he was happy to see her but also knew she needed to be approached gently.

And then Vic was there, drawing her away toward the big dining room table where, as he’d noted, his mother had set out overflowing plates she described as “a little bite.”

Rachel wasted no time tucking in. She’d last eaten hours ago and the food smelled as good as it tasted. This was comfort food at its most perfect. Warm and hearty. The sauce on the golubtsi was spicy rather than sweet. Nestled up against that were the potatoes that padded the carbs until all her cells relaxed with a sigh.

She must have made the sigh audible because when she snapped from her food fugue, she noted Irena giving a satisfied nod. Vic draped an arm over the back of her chair, leaning back so he could continue flirting with his aunt Klara.

Klara gave his arm a blatant look and then tipped her chin. He grinned like he had a secret, unrepentant.

Before Rachel had kissed him that first time, she’d been able to appreciate his charms but keep a distance between them. Now it was like her attraction to him—her awareness of him—was at ten.

He was fucking adorable. Irresistible. God help her.

Irena sat across from them at the table with a tired sigh. “Get the girl some tea, Vityunya.”

He kissed the top of her head as he stood and went off to do his mother’s bidding.

“This is all so good,” she told Irena as she made the superhuman effort not to stare at Vic’s butt while he puttered around in the kitchen.

Vic’s mother attempted a casual shrug but there was pleasure on her face at the compliment. Irena loved taking care of her family and friends. She baked you something if you were happy or sad. She made soup or dumplings if you were sick. A cluck or a tsk. A hug, a congratulations, a stern talking-to. A whole emotional language through food.

“Until we moved next door I’d never had cabbage rolls. I had no idea what I’d been missing,” Rachel said. Their mother had been a good cook, but for her, food had been a means to an end. Fuel and nutrients.

One of the reasons Rachel had been active from an early age was her mother’s constant focus on weight and clothing size. It had been Rachel’s way to control food and her body.

Still, she liked food and while she knew she tended toward obsession when it came to exercising and physical strength, she felt like she had a better handle on it than she ever had, even before the kidnapping.

Irena frowned and then pushed some bread and butter her way. “I will teach you. It’s easy.”

Rachel somehow doubted it was what she’d consider easy, but she liked knowing things. Liked learning and mastering things. And she liked being in Irena’s kitchen, in the heart of the house. Liked being part of what the Orlovs had built.

“I’d love that. I’m always happy to learn whatever you’re willing to teach me.”

“If she learns them then she can make them at our place,” Maybe said.

“Or you could make them for the rest of us. I’ll pay for groceries,” Rachel said before she thanked Vic for the mug of much-needed tea he brought her.

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