Page 32 of Sinful Betrayal
“This is a small restaurant.” She scoffs, eyeing the single table in the kitchen. “You mustn’t make much money.”
“I get by.”
“Hmm. Where is your menu?”
“It’s just pelmeni on the menu.”
“What if I don’t want that?”
“You will.”
She mutters in Russian under her breath, but she takes a seat at the table, nonetheless. She doesn’t speak as I prepare the food and when I set the bowl of dumplings in front of her, she wrinkles her nose.
I try not to feel disheartened; this just comes with the territory.
She’s going to have good days and bad days, and I need to make sure I’m there for her no matter what.
After polishing off my plate of food in silence, I wrap up my mother’s portion and set it in the fridge in case she changes her mind. As I’m finishing off the dishes, Annie appears to take my mother for her evening bath.
“Sleep well,Mamulichka.”
She ignores me completely as she walks out of the kitchen, and Annie offers me a sympathetic smile.
I nod at Annie. “Don’t hesitate to come and get me.”
“Of course. Have a good evening.”
Once I’ve finished tidying up the kitchen, I head through the door to the left of the fridge that leads into the lounge.
I hid the entrance behind one of the bookcases so any potential houseguests wouldn’t accidentally go wandering into my mother’s rooms and disturb her.
I try not to take it personally when my mother doesn’t acknowledge my existence. But it’s fucking tough when she demands to see my brother who hasn’t bothered to visit her in years.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need a medal of recognition or a pat on the back for taking care of her. Far from it. I’m happy that I’m in a position to help my mother. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting any less when she sees me as nothing more than a stranger.
My mood slightly brightens when I head into the kitchen and find Nina bent over in front of the oven, and I take a moment to admire her perfect ass in those leggings.
It’s exactly the sort of distraction I needed. Though I can’t help but picture what it was like to take her from behind, and the thoughts have my cock instantly hardening.
She sets the casserole dish on the stove top and turns around.
She cries out, holding a hand to her heart. “Oh Anton, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” I chuckle. “I was just admiring the view.”
She rolls her eyes.
“What’s all this?” I eye the kitchen table that’s been laid for dinner.
“I made dinner.” She grabs the bowl of salad off the counter, bringing it over to the table. “I hope that’s ok?”
“It’s more than ok.” I sit down at the table. “What are we having?”
“I made a vegetarian lasagna with homemade garlic bread.” A soft blush creeps up her neck.
She’s beautiful, sexy, has a smart-ass mouth,andcan cook?
This girl is turning out to be the whole damn package.