Page 37 of The Bratva's Hostage Bride

“Yes, I just want to fix my makeup.” She sits at the dressing table and quickly touches up the makeup on her face and neck before she grabs her purse and follows me. I offer her my hand, and surprisingly, she takes it.

I lead her to the Range Rover where I open the door and help her in. Then I drive downtown, past the art gallery where Asher’s art is on display, and straight to a unique second-hand bookstore.

We get out of the car, and I take her hand. “We’re being prepared a special dinner.”

“At a bookstore?” she asks curiously. “I know this bookstore. They don’t have a restaurant.”

“Let’s just say I called in a favor.” I squeeze her hand and knock on the front door.

The owner comes to unlock and let us in. “Luka. Your cousin said you needed the best dinner spot in town.”

“Thanks, Merelda. We appreciate you staying open for us,” I say. “We will, of course, browse for some books to take home.”

“The table is in the back,” Merelda says. “The chef has just started cooking your appetizers, and there’s a bottle of champagne on ice for you. Please help yourselves. I’ll be at the front if you need anything.”

I lead Hannah to the back, where some shelves have been rolled out of the way to fit a cozy table and two chairs. I help her sit down before I sit opposite her.

“A bookstore dinner? That’s unique. No one’s ever done that before.” She smiles shyly at me. “I feel like you’re full of surprises.”

“Why? What did you expect from me?” I ask, lacing my fingers together and resting my chin on my hands.

“That you would be done with me. The internet says you’re a playboy.” She fidgets with her cloth napkin.

“Former playboy,” I say. “Some things can change.”

“Right, and you’ve changed because…?”

“Because I met someone special, and right now, I’d like her to tell me about what it’s like to grow up in a normal family in Ohio?” I pay full attention to her.

Our appetizers come through as she’s telling me about high school, her makeup college, and some of the people she’s done makeup for. I punctuate her stories with similar tales of my own. We laugh a lot.

She tells me what she’s learned about mafia families, and I’m impressed by her dedication to research. Our main meal comes out, and I tell her what I do—the drag races and the casinos—but she promises not to podcast about them. This is just to quench her curiosity.

While we wait for dessert, I watch her get up and go through the second-hand nonfiction books. She pulls one or two down, and then I tell her she can have as many as she likes—it’s a date. She looks at me shyly and then pulls a few more down.

I watch as she gets excited, pulling various titles down. She’s adorable. She leaves those in the front with Merelda and returns to the table for dessert.

We share a slice of decadent chocolate cake and sit in comfortable silence as we eat.

We thank Merelda for her hospitality, and I paid for the dinner and the books. I help Hannah get back into the car, and we drive back to the house.

“Thank you. This has been an amazing night. You outdid yourself.” She smiles at me.

“Thank you. I can’t take all the credit. My cousin helped me set it up.” I always want to be honest with her.

When we get home, I walk her to her bedroom door. “Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” she asks quietly.

“You can sleep wherever you want to, Hannah. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” I lean down and kiss her softly. “But I will miss you.”

She blushes and hugs her books to her. “Thank you for an amazing night, Luka.”

“Sweet dreams, Hannah.”

The following day, I find Hannah sitting at the dining room table with a book propped up against a vase with flowers. She’s eating a bowl of oats as she reads.

I lean over and kiss her head. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did. Are you going to the gym?” She glances at me with a slight pink blush on her cheeks.

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