Page 75 of Sinful Bride

“It’s not a bad thing… so long as she’s too young to hold a gun.”

“Which won’t happen until she’s, like, thirty.” I level my stare at my brother-in-law. “Look at me. Makari, look at me. Thirty. Not a day sooner.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender once the packages are set down on the table. “I hear you, I hear you. But just remember?—”

“—that I made no such promise.” Sofi grins at me, emerging from the nursery with my baby cradled to her shoulder.

I roll my eyes but let it go.

Mainly because I know they’re probably going to start Taty’s training with dart guns as soon as her little fists can close around a Fisher-Price My First Pistol with the Serial Numbers Sanded Off.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to learn?”

I hesitate. I’ve definitely become more comfortable with the concept of guns—I mean, I have to, considering who I married—but I don’t know if I’m at a point where I can handle handling them.

Mak rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, shit. I forgot. Sorry.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I’m just… not there yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be, to be honest.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Trust me.”

The door opens again, and Asya comes through with a couple of smaller bags. Judging by the tags, though, Tatyanna is about to have a few more toys for her stuffed animal safari.

“Daphne! Malyshka, come here.” She sweeps me into a warm hug before I can even take the few steps toward her. “How are you?”

“Hi! I’m good. You?”

“Eager to spend time with my babies. Look at you, pretty girl!” She scoops Taty out of her own daughter’s arms and smothers those plump cheeks with kisses. “You are getting big! Such a good girl.”

I check the outer hallway to make sure no one else is planning on barging in before I lock the door. It’s not that I don’t want my in-laws here; I’m always happy to see them. It’s more about the unwanted gifts that a certain other couple keep sending.

Because they know where we live.

“By the way, Daph…” Sofi joins me in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “I noticed you got a new blanket throw? On the rocking chair? Interesting pattern.”

I scoff. “You can say it. It’s ugly.”

“I would never?—”

“It’s from my parents.”

Her jaw drops. “You’re not serious.” She looks at me again. “You are. You’re totally serious. Isn’t that a violation against the restraining order?”

I shake my head. “Not when it’s through the mail. They haven’t set foot in this building, but they know where we live. All they do is send gifts for Taty, so… I don’t know.” I sigh. “They’re still her grandparents.”

Sofi rests a reassuring hand on my arm. “I know we talk about family being everything, but don’t get me wrong. Blood doesn’t mean shit when they don’t treat you right.”

“I know. What I don’t know is, should I be worried? They know where we live. They keep trying to get to Taty, and to me, no matter what the law says.”

“Are you worried?”

I use the need to find creamer in the fridge as an excuse to hide my face for the moment. I know that Pasha won’t let my parents get within a mile of us. I know we’re constantly under his protective eye.

But I also know how unpredictable my former parents can be. Every move they’ve made up to this point proves there’s no anticipating their next plan.

So maybe I’m not worried.

Maybe I’m just being… strategic.

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