Page 115 of Twilight Tears
Has appeasement really ever worked for anyone, though? If I let her plan the wedding, will she plan the honeymoon, too? Our first anniversary? Our twentieth?
A lifetime of birthdays and dinner parties and home renovations projects being overseen by Yakov’s mother flash in front of me. I don’t realize I’m crumpling a page from the magazine until Yakov lays his hand over mine and smooths out my fingers.
“Do you have something against—” He leans forward to read the article headline. “—non-floral centerpieces that I should know about?”
“No, but your mom might!”
He frowns. “Who cares?”
“She does! Or, she might!” I groan. “Apparently, I’m marrying into an important family with long-standing traditions. You never told me about any family traditions.”
“Because we don’t have any,” he shrugs. “Except for the Bratva thing.”
“‘The Bratva thing,’ he says. Like it’s casual.” I snort. “Well, while you are off running ‘the Bratva thing,’ I’m supposed to keep the household staff in line. Your mother is going to teach me everything she knows. And if I don’t want to know what she knows, then she’ll lock me in a dungeon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s what Mariya said.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to Mariya. She and my mother have been fighting since Mariya was born. That won’t be your experience.”
Spoken like a man. Ofeliya was definitely right about one thing: men really have no idea what women go through.
“Your mother told me that she was going to plan our entire wedding. She stole my bridal magazines.”
Yakov points to the stack in my lap. “Then what are these?”
“The backups that Mariya bought because she knew Ofeliya would take the first batch!”
“I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. My mother is a lot, but she’ll settle down after a few days. Give her some time.”
“How much time? Should I let her plan the wedding and hope that’s enough time? Or maybe I’ll let her birth the twins for me because I’ll definitely figure out how to do that wrong, too.” I turn to him, eyes wide, as something occurs to me. “Please tell me she won’t be in the delivery room.”
“She won’t be in the delivery room.” Yakov grabs my shoulders and squeezes, working some of the tension out of my shoulders. “Just relax, Luna. Everything is going to work out.”
I let my head loll between my shoulders as his thumbs work into the muscles at the base of my neck. “Everything? You really think we can take the Gustevs and your mother?”
“I’m positive we can.” He kisses my neck. “Dima and I are already working on a plan in place to lure Pavel out. Once he shows himself, we’ll cut him down. Then we’ll deal with my mother.”
“You’ll cut her down, too?”
“Only if you ask me to,” he teases. “Otherwise, I’ll probably just have a firm talk with her.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
He massages down my arms, working until my fingers tingle. “Different continents exist for a reason. We’ll send her to one of the others. Problem solved.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is. There isn’t a problem too big for me to handle.” His voice is a low rumble in my ear. His hands shift back to my shoulders and around. Suddenly, he’s cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. “Like this tension you’re carrying. I’ve never seen anything like it, but I think I have just the trick.”
My mouth falls open in a sigh. “Oh, is that right?”
“That’s right. I know how to help you release it.” Yakov lays me back against the pillows and settles between my thighs. “You just have to trust me.”
“I trust you,” I moan, curling my fingers through his hair as he thrusts his tongue into me. “With my life.”
49