Truly Madly Deeply: Chapter 50

“Desert Rose”—Sting

Since I didn’t have any running gear, we made a pit stop at my house.

Mamushka was drinking her morning tea at the kitchen table, mindlessly flipping through a newspaper and humming to herself.

“Hello, Ambrose, how are your knuckles doing?” She grinned behind the rim of her mug as soon as we walked in, not bothering to raise her gaze from the paper.

“Better than Kieran’s nose, I hear.” Row leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. “Good morning, Mrs. Litvin.”

“It certainly seems to be, at least for you two.”

“We brought pastries.” He slid a box of Dahlia’s Diner’s finest across the table. It was his idea not to come empty-handed. Suck-up.

“Come, sit down. I’ll pour you a cup of tea and ask you inappropriate questions about your relationship with my daughter while Cal gets ready for her run.”

“You knew we’ve been running together?” I asked, surprised.

“You weren’t very discreet about it.” Mom flipped open the pastry box, settling for a white chocolate croissant. “I can hear your bickering from all the way down the street.”

I felt my blush charring my skin to the point of third-degree burns. “Row, please don’t feel obligated to answer any of her questions.”

“Don’t worry.” Row smirked at Mamushka. “You can ask me anything you want, and I’ll answer with unnecessary detail, explicit examples, and time stamps.”

“I hate you.” I picked up a powdered-sugar donut, licking the sugar.

“Got a weird way of showing it.” He snaked an arm around my shoulder and dropped a kiss to my temple.

Oh my. We were flirting. In front of my mother. My head snapped up to look at him, shocked by the semi-public display of affection.

“Is this okay?” He scanned me, his question barely audible.

I nodded quickly. It’s more than okay. It’s a dream I don’t want to wake up from.

Eventually, it was Mom who broke the spell by fanning herself with a huff. “Is it just me, or is it getting really hot in here? Row, you can take off your shirt if the heater is too much.”

“The heater is not on.” Row frowned.

“Mamushka!” I chided, frowning at her.

“He finds it funny.” Her innocent eyes clung to my face. “See? He is laughing.”

Row was, in fact, laughing. A low, husky rumble that dripped like warm honey into the pit of my stomach.

“He’s just being polite,” I said.

“I’m never being polite,” Row retorted. “Not unless I can help it.”

“So.” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to go get dressed now.”

Row nodded, taking a seat next to Mom and looking completely at ease. “Not my favorite state of you, but go for it.”

“Row!” I gasped.

“Oh, come on.” Mom laughed. “We both know you weren’t playing Monopoly when you spent the night away from home.”

“The emotional scars from this conversation will never heal,” I mumbled as I made my way to my room. Once there, I decided to take a quick, cold shower. Mainly to calm my raging hormones down. Then I slipped into my sports clothes.

“Callichka, sweetie, I’m off to the supermarket, and I’m taking the car!” Mom called outside my door.

“’Kay, Mamushka. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I blow-dried my hair quickly and put on minimal makeup, trying to atone for my Full Metal Jacket look yesterday when I showed up at the inn.

From the other room, I heard Row dropping his voice to a threatening whisper. “Now, you listen to me, Semen.” Semus, not Semen. Also, was he…threatening my cat? “You’re gonna stop pissing in Cal’s shoes, or I’ll come here personally every day to take a shit in your litter box. Now, how would you like that?”

My educated guess was that Semus wouldn’t like it at all. But it was incredibly sweet. He had stood up against my bully. My bully just happened to be a seven-pound furball.

Semus meowed his response, and that was when I decided to walk out of my room. Row gave me a slow, appreciative once-over, his gaze heating.

“How’s my outfit?” I twirled in place.

“Hate it.”

“What? Why?”

“Blocks all the good views.”

“Behave yourself, Mr. Casablancas.”

“That’s not on the agenda today, baby.”

We both walked outside, hit by the frigid air.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you coming to the holiday parade on Main Street next week?”

“Absolutely not.” Row made a face. “Filled my quota for Staindrop events after the Christmas lights incident.”

“It’s not like it’s gonna happen again,” I said, realizing that I really, really wanted him to come. “For starters, Allison is not going to ask you to cook the turkey she’ll pardon, and I won’t be kissing Kieran.”

“If Kieran wants to keep this pointless life of his, he better not be on the same side of the street as you. Still, I’m not coming.”

“Shame.” I shook my arms, cranked my neck, and feigned nonchalance. “If you isolate yourself, you’ll be missing out on all the good parts.”

“Impossible.” He scooped my jawline in his palm. “The best part is right in front of me.”

Then he dipped his head down and kissed me.