Page 67 of Viktor

“Dimitri texted me photos of his food porn earlier.” Viktor decided to change the subject before she retreated from him. He grasped her hand and tried to focus on the feel of her instead of the shaking of the plane every time it hit a damn air bank. He knew this was a stupid fear, but it was one he couldn’t shake.

“Food porn?”

“He and Becca are driving to all his signings and have decided to make sure to stop in at one of the restaurants fromDiners, Drive-ins and Dives. She and I both love that show. He seems to think he’s the shit when he finds one I haven’t been to yet. Bastard.”

“I remember you mentioning it in Charleston. You watch the show?”

“Shit, yeah. Got to know the best places to eat in every city. You don’t watch it?”

She shook her head. “I’m aHell’s Kitchenfan, or when I do flip on the Food Network, it’sThe Worst Cooks in Americaor old episodes ofRestaurant Impossible. I swear I didn’t eat out for almost a year after watching that andKitchen Nightmares.”

He knew the shows she was referring to. He’d seen a few episodes himself and refused to watch them for his own peace of mind. He loved eating out too much.

“Dimitri wants to meet up at a placed called The Magnolia Café tonight. They’re open twenty-four-seven.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that place. I think there might even be something on the menu that won’t put him in the bathroom all weekend.”

Viktor laughed; he couldn’t help it. His brother loved to eat more than any of the rest of them, but God had played a practical joke on Dimitri. His stomach rebelled at so much. Poor bastard usually ate it anyway and spent days suffering.

“It’s not funny,” Sara admonished, but he saw the grin peeking at the corners of her mouth. “Do you know how long it took him to live down the meme of him running off stage clutching his butt and his stomach all at the same time?”

“I still have it saved to my phone and send it to him when he gets to be too insufferable.”

“You don’t!”

“Oh, but baby, I do.” He grinned. “Sometimes a little blackmail goes a long way, especially when dealing with one’s brother.”

“That’s horrible, Viktor.”

They continued to talk about their favorite restaurants, and before long, they were landing, another form of hell for Viktor. He was afraid the landing gear wouldn’t engage. All his fears of flying originated from one incident in Afghanistan when a plane he’d been on went down. The landing gear hadn’t engaged then either. He’d almost died, and since then, flying freaked him out.

Stepping out onto solid ground had never felt so good.

Sara wanted to take a shuttle to the hotel since it was close, but he rented an SUV instead. Not having access to a vehicle wasn’t an option. He might have to move her quickly. It didn’t take them long to reach the hotel and check in after that.

He waited patiently for the oncoming storm. Once she figured out he wasn’t getting his own room, she was going to flip her lid. When she didn’t say anything about him not checking in, he wasn’t surprised. This late, she probably thought he’d had to book a room at a nearby hotel since this one was full because of the signing.

He carried their bags behind her and hummed while they rode the elevator up. It was a nice place. Not as swanky as some he’d been in, but nice all the same. Cleanliness counted for a lot in his book.

Once they were in the room, he looked around. There was a small sitting room with a TV and another room that held a massive king-sized bed. It was here he put their bags. Damn, but that bed looked comfy. He’d been sleeping on a mattress that wasn’t a rock, but close to it. He’d bet the Graftons hadn’t changed that mattress in a good ten years. His back was a testament to that. It was why he’d changed his mind about letting Sara sleep in it that night she came back from the hospital. It would only have made her hurt worse the next morning.

“This is a nice place.” Sara picked up her suitcase and threw it on the bed. She rummaged in it for a minute before pulling out a plastic bag that contained…Lysol bathroom cleaner? What the hell?

She took it into the bathroom and sprayed down the toilet and then the tub. She used one of the washcloths to clean them both.

“What the fuck are you doing, woman?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She stood and winced a little, her hand holding the small of her back.

“It looks clean to me.” You could eat off the fucking surfaces in here.

Sara rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “Just because it looks clean doesn’t mean it is. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Viktor huffed. She should have told him to do it. He took the rag from her and turned her to face the mirror above the sink. “Hold onto the sink and lean forward.”

“Why?” Suspicion flared in her eyes.

“Because your back is hurting, and I can help.” He pushed gently on her shoulders, and she finally gave in. His fingers found the spot she’d been holding and began to knead it softly. He worked out from there and let his fingers run up her back, massaging every stiff muscle he found. It would be better to do a deep tissue massage, but he didn’t know if that was the best idea right now. From the low sounds of pleasure leaking out of her, he’d lay good money on it being a bad bet.

---