Stepping into the room, he pulled me into him and rubbed my back while I waited for the pain to ease.
“Can we maybe not sneak up on the person who had her stomach cut open,” I whimpered into his chest, feeling his arms tighten reflexively around me.
“I’m sorry, Nell,” he whispered into the hair on the top of my head, sounding genuinely upset. “I didn’t think.”
Taking in a deep breath, and barely holding back the groan that wanted to come out of me when his scent hit me, I lifted my head to look at him. Seeing how close he was, close enough to see the dark green at the center of his eyes bleed into the more hazel color that surrounded it, I took a step away.
It was dangerous for me to be too close to him, and I hadn’t stopped kicking myself for sitting on his lap today, regardless of why it’d happened.
He didn’t belong to me, he belonged to his wife.
And the trust I had in him was fragile and solely based on Walker and Hendrix. I knew I had to let him in as their father—for all three of their sakes—but I also had to find a way to protect myself from him at the same time.
My solution so far was distance. So long as I kept it between us, I’d survive this.
“What are you doing here, Taras?”
His head tilted to the side slightly at my question.
“You’re here.” His tone conveyed that he thought the answer should be obvious, but also that he was unhappy about it as well.
Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, annoyed when my fingers caught on the hair tie holding it in a ponytail, and ripping it out to redo it. Doing it gave me a few seconds to think how to word what I needed to say, and by the time I was done, I was ready.
“I appreciate the time and attention, but you don’t have to come here. There are men outside all the time, I have the Club if I need anything, and you have other things that I’m sure you need to do.” Like your wife.
I expected him to turn around and leave after I was done, but instead, he jerked his head toward the living room. “I would like to talk to you, malysh. It’s important.”
Again, he surprised me by not just walking and assuming I’d follow him, but waiting for me and turning the lights in the nursery out as we exited it. It was a small thing to do, but it felt much more significant. It was domesticated and made it feel like we were doing this together.
Stop it, Nell. You’re reading too much into things.
Moving to sit on the couch, I watched as he sat down beside me. His eyes were on the ultrasound pictures I’d had done during my pregnancy that I was going to glue into their baby book later.
Leaning forward, he picked them up and looked through them, stopping on the 3D ones.
“They don’t look anything like that now,” he murmured.
“No, they’ve definitely changed a lot in a short amount of time. But I don’t think they looked a lot like that when they were born, either.”
Lifting his hip, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the boys' photos after they were born, then held it next to the ultrasound. Leaning over so I could compare them as well, I was about to say something when his phone rang, and the name Donna showed on the screen.
It felt like someone had ripped open the scar on my abdomen when I jerked away from him this time, moving as far away from him on the couch as possible.
Cursing, he shot me an apologetic look and answered it.
“What?”
I could hear some shrieks from where I was, but nothing that would help me work out what she was saying.
He didn’t say anything back to her for a while, but eventually he clipped, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. And if I have to come looking for you, I won’t be happy.”
Standing up, he placed the scans back down on the table, and then moved to plant his fists in the couch on either side of me, our faces only inches apart.
“I have to go,” he muttered, his tone soft and gentle, a total contrast to how it’d been a minute ago. “If I’d thought for a second, she’d—” he broke off as I blinked rapidly, doing my best to tamp down the tears. “Govno!”
“You don’t need to explain,” I stammered quickly. “I only have a couple of things to do tonight, and then I’m going to bed early.”
The muscle in his jaw clenched, and then he stood up. “I’m sorry, malysh. I’ll make it quick.”
It felt like my throat was closing up, so I waved him away as I swallowed to try and clear the blockage, but the words still came out sounding like I was being strangled. “It’s fine. I’ll see you the next time you visit the boys.”