Page 177 of Dirty Grovel

“This is a family business, baby,” he points out. “Nepotism is part of the package. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can?—”

“Find a new job?”

“I was gonna say, ‘Kiss my ass.’ But that works, too.”

Laughing, I kiss him again. I can’t help myself. I’m an addict when it comes to Oleg and I have no intention of ever getting clean.

“I have one more little surprise for you,” he reveals when I pull back.

“Another one?”

“I think this will trump everything else.”

Frowning, I shake my head. “I doubt it.”

“I want you to choose one of the empty guest rooms upstairs and redecorate it.”

“Because you want me to move into it?”

He smiles. “Because I want your sister to move into it.” His hands massage my hip as he speaks, his voice soft and gentle. “I know you’ve been counting down the days until her rehab is complete. With a month to go, it’s time to start thinking of the next chapter. She’ll need a place to go and what better place to go than right here, with her family?”

My nose is itching. So are my eyes.

“Oleg… you’re serious?”

“Deadly. She should be here, with you. It’s probably the fastest way to rehabilitate her properly anyway.”

“B-but I have no idea how long she’ll stay for.”

“She can stay for six months, a year, a decade, or her entire lifetime if you want. It doesn’t matter to me. I just want you to be happy and I know that having your sister here will make you happy.”

I throw my arms around him, my tears staining the back of his shirt. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “I love you.”

Those words fall easily from his lips now. No hesitation. No reservations. They’ve become daily treasures instead of rare gems.

Who says happily ever afters are idealistic?

Who says dreams can’t come true?

The trick is realizing that happily ever after is not an ending—it’s a beginning. This is only the first chapter.

I lean into him, sealing the moment with a kiss that tastes like forever.

57

OLEG

My brand new yacht gleams under the Caribbean sun like polished sin, while our friends and family climb aboard.

Everyone is dressed in pale shades of fairy pink or baby blue because, according to the invitation, courtesy of Sydney Palmer, guests had to “dress for the baby they think is coming.”

The presents are stacked off to the side on a giant table that looks big enough to sink the whole damn ship. The decorations—a combination of fairy lights and natural wild flowers—have transformed the yacht into a garden party on water.

I have to admit, Sydney really has outdone herself with the décor. She’d proven to be a great asset, not to mention, a great ally in this scheme that has been weeks in the making.

Apart from Artem and Faye, Sydney is the only one that’s aware of my grand deception.

---