Page 89 of Her Sweet Surrender
“However, a truer brother I could not find.” Rytsar held up his water goblet to him.
Sir nodded, holding up the coconut water. “The same is true of you—on both counts—old friend.”
Rytsar snorted.
The next course completely surprised Brie. Instead of another Russian dish, Brie was presented with a Cloche serving dish with a silver dome.
The moment Sir lifted his, he laughed.
Curious, Brie lifted hers and was confused to see a small plate of chicken and waffles. She looked at Rytsar in amusement.
“It was the beginning for you,” he answered cryptically as he secured a bib around Hope’s neck.
Brie turned to Sir, amused. “What does he mean?”
Sir sat back in his chair, grinning as he stared at the dish. “Back in college, Anderson introduced me to this dish.” He glanced at her. “I bet you can guess where it was made.”
Brie crinkled her brows, unsure what the southern dish had to do with her.
Rytsar picked up the side of warm maple syrup on the plate and poured it all over the fried chicken and waffle, a satisfied grin on his face.
Brie followed suit when she noticed Sir doing the same.
As they ate, the two men shared humorous stories about Master Anderson back in college. Laughter filled the room as they talked about his mini bullwhip named Myrtle and how legendary he was for laying on the cowboy charm.
“Remember how the cattle man was always on the hunt for the perfect ‘shoe’, comrade?”
Sir snickered.
Brie quickly deduced that the shoe they were talking about had to do with women who could handle Master Anderson’s enormous asset. She adored hearing the two men recount stories about their college days, many of which she had never heard before.
It made her feel a part of them somehow.
“In the end, I suppose I have Anderson to thank for meeting Brie,” Sir told Rytsar.
“I suppose you’re right,moy droog.”
When Brie was finished with her plate, Rytsar asked, “Have you figured out how this dish is related to you,radost moya?”
She discretely dabbed at her lips to wipe away the remaining syrup as she thought about it. Sir had mentioned she would know where it was made, and that Master Anderson had been involved somehow. Once she made the connection that it had something to do with their college years in LA, it didn’t take her long to figure it out.
Tears pricked her eyes as she thought back on that moment when she met Sir for the first time at the young age of seven. “Was it the diner?”
“Yes,” Sir answered with satisfaction. He leaned in to kiss her, murmuring, “You missed a spot, babygirl.” Brie trembled as he licked the side of her mouth.
“And now for dessert,” Rytsar announced.
Brie giggled. “I’m sorry, Rytsar, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He frowned. “I hope that’s not true.”
Maxim presented Brie with a wrapped gift on a gold dessert plate.
Brie smiled at Rytsar as she eagerly pulled on the gold bow and opened the lid of the box. Inside were the jeweled handcuffs he had given her at the collaring ceremony.
More memories flooded her as she thought back to that night. She glanced at Sir, remembering the thrill she’d felt when he placed the collar around her neck and officially claimed her as his.
When Rytsar placed a bottle of chilled vodka beside the cuffs, Brie looked at him with a bemused grin. “You know I can’t drink.”
