Page 121 of Dirty Grovel

And if I can do that, then anything is possible.

Fuck only knows what will come next.

37

OLEG

I’m skipping two important meetings to be here so early.

It’s not like I have anything to do.

It’s not that I have a promise to keep or a reservation to make.

There is no special occasion that warrants my presence. No mistake I need to make penance for.

Just a longing in my chest that I can’t quell.

And a hardness in my pants that I can’t tame.

Sutton is standing in the breakfast book, her back to me, her face trained towards the gardens. I take a moment to admire her perfect body.

The straightness of her back, punctuated by a waterfall of golden hair. The curves of her hips, crafted perfectly to fit my hands.

She hardly even looks pregnant from this vantage point.

As I move closer, though, I realize how stiff the set of her shoulders are.

I wonder if she’s worrying about her sister. Sydney has spent most of the last two days confined to her room, watching movies with Sutton and having conversations long into the night.

I know that Sutton needs it just as much as Sydney does, which is why I allow her to leave my bed.

But my patience is wearing thin now. I’ve spent the last several days—in addition to all my other work—researching shrinks and PTSD and generational trauma.

When did I become this man?

The man who frets about his fiancé’s sister? The man who prioritizes his personal life over his professional life? The man who’s started looking up cribs and sleep training methods and breast pumps?

I slip my arms around her waist, causing her to jump, a startled gasp leaving her lips.

“God!”

“No, it’s me,” I joke. “Oleg.”

She gives me a distracted laugh and twists around in my arms so she can look up at me. “I didn’t expect you home so early.”

“I thought we could spend a little time together,” I hear myself say, wondering for a fraction of a second who the hell is talking. “Just you and me.”

She flushes. “Have I been spending a little too much time with Syd?”

“You’re allowed,” I say. “She’s your sister and she’s in bad shape. I’m just not good at sharing.”

“I’ve got news for you, Oleg Pavlov,” she says, glancing down at the stomach that’s forcing a few inches of space between us. “You’re going to have to learn fast. This baby is going to demand most of my time and attention.”

“Hm, is it too late to send it back then?”

She laughs and punches my arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. It’s just that Sydney needs me. She’s still processing everything that happened the last few weeks.”

“Understandable.”

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