“When does your friend start at Red Stone Security?” Viktor asked suddenly before tucking his cell phone away.
Lyosha looked up from his laptop, closing it and sliding it into its case. He wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand who Viktor was talking about—Mila. He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck as he answered. “Monday. She’s very excited.”
Viktor grunted, gave a half-smile. “Dominique will be thrilled to start working with her.”
Months ago Lyosha made the mistake of telling Dominique that his friend Mila had applied for a job at Red Stone. Dominique, being a little nosy, had managed to ambush him and Mila, getting an introduction to her. So of course Mila and Dominique were now friends, which made things even harder for him. He’d wanted to somehow compartmentalize his life, his feelings for Mila. Each day that seemed an impossibility. She was under his skin, in his bones.
It wasn’t just her looks, though she was beyond sexy. Petite, with dark wavy hair he’d fantasized about running his hands through so many damn times, she had a wide, genuine smile. Her deceased father had been Polish and he’d seen pictures of the man, knew she had some of his characteristics—like his sharper cheekbones. But that was where the similarities ended. She mostly took after her Cuban mother, with her bronze skin tone, amber eyes and curvy hips. Her smile though…it would be his undoing. When he was with Mila, he couldn’t help but return her smiles. Because she…cared. She cared about so many things when it was so damn easy to simply not give a shit. But Mila cared about the world, cared about others.
“Any issues at the house I need to know about?” Lyosha asked, mainly to change the subject.
Viktor simply lifted an eyebrow. Obviously he would’ve told Lyosha if there had been problems. Hell, Lyosha would have known before Viktor, as he was in charge of all of Viktor’s personal and business security. He had special alerts set up to his phone for Viktor’s home in case something happened. He would never rely on law enforcement to get here before him and his team if something happened.
As they strode into the huge kitchen, all the window blinds were open overlooking the glittering pool. Dominique and their three-year-old daughter Lillian were sitting at the kitchen table in the breakfast nook, Lillian coloring something furiously.
She dropped her crayons when she saw them, and jumped down. Her chubby little legs worked overtime as she raced straight at Viktor. “Dada! Up, up!”
Viktor, who Lyosha had seen knock a grown man out with one punch, gently lifted his little girl with a big smile on his face, nodding as she babbled away.
Lyosha had no idea what she was saying, but she was very intense as she patted her father’s cheek, likely telling him about her day.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Dominique said to Lyosha after kissing Viktor soundly on the mouth.
“I’m just going over a few security diagnostics here. I’ll be in the office,” Lyosha said to Viktor. “I’ll text you before I leave.”
Dominique stepped in front of him, a big smile on her face. “Wait. Mila starts on Monday. She’s so excited!”
“I know. I’m going to see her this weekend.” They had plans to go to a movie on the green, something she’d introduced him to. It was something mostly college and younger people went to because it was cheap, outdoors and fun. He didn’t like how open everything was—made him feel far too exposed—but he liked spending time with sweet, smart Mila. His secret addiction.
Dominique, who apparently wanted to be a matchmaker, waggled her eyebrows. “Soooo?” she asked, dragging out the word.
“So…what?” He was not falling into this trap, not talking about Mila with anyone, least of all Dominique. It was better to play stupid, like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“You drive me crazy. Both of you,” she grumbled before turning away from him and opening the refrigerator.
“I heard the morning sickness is over.” He took a step away, trying to subtly make his exit. They deserved their family time, not for him to be all up in their space. And truthfully, the happy family scene gave him an unexpected pang. He’d always been fine with his life, fine with who he was. But lately he’d been…wanting something he couldn’t have.
“It is, but unfortunately nothing sounds good to me.” She stared into the refrigerator, a frown on her face.
“Mila said that when her older sister was pregnant, she always craved peanut butter everything.” Dammit, why was he talking about her? Because you’re basically obsessed with her, he answered himself immediately.
“Peanut butter ice cream actually sounds really good.”
She turned to her husband, but before she could ask the question, Viktor said, “I’ll go grab you some.”
“Lala!” Lillian shrieked as if she’d just seen him, wiggling out of Viktor’s secure grasp. She couldn’t pronounce his name yet so she called him Lala.
“Hey, little munchkin.” He held out his arms, scooping her up and tickling her tummy as she laughed maniacally, her blonde curls bouncing around her round cheeks. She was a tiny version of Dominique, blonde hair, bronze skin and attitude, even at three.
He loved this little girl. The thought of anything happening to her or Dominique would gut him, so he could only imagine how hard it would be on Viktor, who loved these two ladies with everything he had. It would kill Viktor, that much Lyosha knew.
So he couldn’t understand why Viktor had made himself so vulnerable by getting married, had basically given up any chance of ever having peace in his life. Because that fear for their safety had to simmer under the surface all the time. Families were for some people, but not for Lyosha. He would never, ever put himself in the position that Viktor had done. No matter how much he might want to for a certain woman.
To want something so much, to crave it with every fiber of his being, to wish for a different reality, only to have it snatched from him?
No. He would not do that to himself. Or to Mila. She deserved someone better than him.
* * *
Two hours later on his way home, Lyosha called her.
Mila.
Because he couldn’t help himself. Yes, she was definitely his addiction.
One he had no idea how to get over. Friends, he reminded himself. They were simply friends.
She picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”
It was just one word, but her voice slightly cracked and all his protective instincts kicked into gear. “What’s wrong?”
There was a beat of silence. “How do you do that?” she murmured. “Are you a mind reader?”
He could hear a door shutting in the background, guessed she was shutting herself in her little bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asked again.
“It’s nothing. I’m just glad I’m moving out next weekend.” There was a hint of relief in her voice that went way beyond moving out of an apartment with a roommate and into her own condo. He knew she was excited about finally getting to live on her own, but not necessarily relieved. She liked her roommate, had a good relationship with the other woman, so that couldn’t be it.
He also knew she didn’t like to be pushed. He could be patient, however. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he quickly changed lanes. “I’m on my way over. Are you hungry? I can pick up takeout. Grab some Chinese from that place you like.”