Page 91 of Maksim

“Hi.” Bailey gives a light wave before wiping her hand on her dress. “I’m Bailey. This is my husband, Anthony.”

Fox leans forward to stub his cigarette out on his boot, the only movement among my brothers. “We know who you are.”

I shoot daggers at Fox, but I don’t know what to say to them. Their mouths being shut is as much as I know to ask for.

Have I mentioned yet that this was a bad idea?

Anya shuffles, clearly sensing the tension. Chewing her lip, she looks at Bailey. “Hey, did I show you the anniversary present Tanner got me?”

Anniversary present. I would roll my eyes if I wasn’t concerned about other things.

Bailey blinks. “Uh, no.”

“Come on.” Anya takes her hands and graciously leads her away. Elira watches them like she’s debating following, but she rubs her arms and stays put.

“It’s hot.” Zinovy stands, eyeing Anthony up before taking a step my way. “I’m gonna take off.” He claps me on the shoulder as he walks by. “Good to see you, Elira.”

“You as well,” she meekly replies.

Fox stands as well, and the others follow, offering weak goodbyes. Hugh is the last, lingering behind the others.

“You too, huh?” I ask.

He stands in front of me and glances at Anthony before rolling his neck and walking to the ice chest. “Just getting a beer, brother.”

He pulls two out and walks one to Anthony, his face serious as he hands off what can only be a silent peace offering. My lips lift at the corners.

“Thanks,” Anthony says, nodding before taking a seat. He leans back like he’s perfectly comfortable. “So… What’s burning?”

My head turns to the grill. “Oh, fuck.”

Hugh and Anthony both snicker as I jog to the grill and take care of the charred meat, a hopeless attempt at cooking for once. Even when Anya was little, we scavenged food somehow or ate freezer meals, but with Elira around, I’m getting accustomed to homemade shit. I’m getting accustomed to a lot of things. I’m getting accustomed to her.

I think… I think it’s going to hurt when she leaves.

I don’t think I want her to go.

She grins at me, amused when I walk in shame back to my seat beside her, but she pats my knee when I sit down. “It was a good try, sobaka.”

I rear back and just stare at her.

Sobaka. Dog.

She presses her lips together to fight a grin. “I looked it up online. If I am your lislchka, your little fox, you are my hound.”

“Gonchaya,” I correct, although I don’t know how much I like that either.

“Gonchaya,” she repeats, then again until her pronunciation is right. She sounds cute with my native language on her lips, and there are a few other phrases I make a mental note to have her memorize for another time. Preferably when her mouth is full.

I clear my throat and look away before I get an erection that won’t go down. Anthony and Hugh are talking, surprisingly. It’s stiff, but it’s effort, which is more than I could ask for. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

“I looked it up after speaking to my mom today,” Elira says. There’s nervousness in her voice that brings my attention back to her.

I study her face but can’t tell what she’s feeling. “How is she?”

Elira’s lips part as she drops her eyes to my chest for a moment. “She’s good. Really good, actually. She uh… She said when she checked her account today, there was a hundred grand in it.”

Her face reddens as she stares at me expectantly, but I don’t really know what to say. Discomfort settles in my chest, shrinking my lungs.