Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)(100)
And all three of them are clustered on the front stoop, watching anxiously as we emerge from the car. As soon as I’m on my feet, Pol leads the charge over. She plucks Katya from Uri’s arms without even bothering to ask for permission. Lev and Nikolai follow, though Niko keeps a careful hand on Lev’s shoulder to make sure he doesn’t stray too far.
“What do you think, Lev?” I ask softly. Zena fell asleep on the drive over here with one palm pressed to her cheek. “This is your other niece, Zena.”
He claps his hands over his mouth. “She’s so little.”
I nod. “Yes—but she’s strong.”
“She’s going to be okay?” When I nod again, he smiles and glances back down at her. “Can I touch her?”
“Go for it.”
He trails a finger over her forehead gingerly. Then over her one exposed cheek. She stirs just a bit, her lips opening and closing like a little goldfish.
We herd our way into the living room, one big, shuffling mass of Bugrovs. I guide Lev to a seat in the armchair and help situate Zena in his arms. He doesn’t move a muscle, barely daring to breathe as he just gazes down at her like she’s the most perfect thing in the world.
He might be onto something there.
As I watch, Uri comes up behind me, his arms looping around my waist as his lips press to the back of my head. It’s then that I finally take a breath and enjoy the whole scene.
Lev, holding Zena gingerly in his arms as he tries not to jostle her. Polly, bouncing Katya on her hip while she peppers her with kisses. Nikolai looming over both of them, checking back and forth with the hint of a smile fluttering on his lips.
“Both our girls are finally home.” I sigh, letting out a pent-up breath I’ve held in for five long months.
Uri squeezes me tighter. “You did it.”
“We did it.”
He chuckles. “Oh, no. I know when to take credit and when to cede the spotlight. This was you, narushitel. You did this.”
Laughing, I rest my head back against his chest. He underplays his role a lot, but I know just how lucky I am. He wakes up with me every night for every feeding. He’s changed more diapers than I have by several orders of magnitude. There’s never been any doubt in my mind that we, the girls and I, are his highest priority.
A familiar tingle spreads through my body. I haven’t felt it in so long that, for a while there, I was worried I’d never feel it again. But as it turns out, I needed time. My body needed to heal first. Then my mind.
I twist around in Uri’s arms so that I can face him. “Hey. Since our babysitters have got this covered, wanna come with me?”
His eyebrows tilt downward curiously. “Lead the way.”
I leave the girls with their uncles and aunt and lead Uri upstairs to our newly renovated master bedroom. I make him sit on the edge of the bed, then I extricate myself from his grasp and step back. Slowly, I start to undo the buttons of my dress.
“Alyssa…”
“Shh. Sit and watch.”
“It’s not that I don’t love what’s happening,” Uri rumbles. “But… are you sure?”
“It’s been over six months,” I point out.
“And I’ll wait a century if that’s what you need.”
I love him for saying it. For being so patient with me. I was cleared for sex months ago. But with Zena still in hospital, I was just not in the right headspace for that kind of intimacy. And Uri never once pressured me. He held me at night, comforted me to sleep, picked up the weight of my load whenever he could. We may not have been having sex, but that didn’t stop me from falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day.
How could I not? It was so easy. So effortless.
Every time I saw him soothe Katya. Or sing to Zena in the hospital. Every time he took Katya from my arms so that I could sleep and made me endless cups of tea and laid out my clothes and cooked and this and that and that and this. All those little gestures, those little moments of tenderness… that was lovemaking in its own way.
I wriggle the dress down my hips and step out of it when it puddles to my feet. “I’ve had enough time. I want you. I want my man.”
He winces as, with my eyes on his, I make a show of removing my bra, then my panties. “Fuck,” he mutters, taking in my body as though it’s a work of art. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
I glance down at the new scar just under my belly. At first, I hated it. Even now, I’m self-conscious of the red, knotted flesh. But every night, before we go to sleep, Uri kisses it. And while I may never be a huge fan of the marks of what happened to me, I am a fan of that.
“It makes you all the more beautiful, you know. The scar. It’s perfect.”
The tears spring to my eyes instantly. “Uri…”
He leans forward, grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. “It’s a sign of everything you’ve overcome. It’s a testament to how tough you are. I wish you didn’t have to have it, but fuck, I’m so glad you’re the type of woman who can wear it so proudly.”
More tears are close to breaking loose and my lip is wobbling like crazy now—but he isn’t done yet.
He reaches out and pulls me into the circle of his arms. His hands are soft and huge on my hips as he kisses my neck and murmurs, “But you know what scar I like even better… is this one.” I’m confused until he leans down and presses a kiss into the tiny little ripple on my thigh.