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I want to weep. I’d been craving those cookies with a fierceness that had urged me to make a double batch. “There’s not even one left?”
“I’ve never had an apple cookie before. They are delicious.” He nuzzles my hair. “You’ll have to make them again.”
I push up to sit. “I made a double batch.”
“Yes, and they were a hit.”
Tears prick my eyes. I can’t believe it. I really can’t, but there they are.
I’m an emotional mess, probably because I’m due for my period any day, and I’ve had a scary watchdog following me around everywhere I go. I’m annoyed and overstimulated, and someone ate all my cookies.
Kirill sits up slowly, his eyes dark on my face. “Are you crying, Ruby?” he asks softly. “Over cookies?”
“I just think it’s really rude that someone would eat all my cookies. I spent hours making them and I didn’t even get one. Not one.” I sniff, then drop my face into my hands because I am crying.
What is wrong with me?
“Ruby.”
I stand, livid that I’m crying. Livid about the week I’ve had.
I stomp to the bathroom, turning to yell at my clearly shocked husband. “I’m tired, Kirill. My head hurts, and I’m so tired of being followed around by Pavel. I thought Maxim was a lot, but he was nothing in comparison!” I’m shaking now. “I’m about to get my period, and I wanted those stupid cookies!” A hot tear streams down my face. My shame peaks at the shocked humor on his face. “And I swear to God if you try to fuck me tonight, I’ll end you.”
With that, I slam the bathroom door.
And then I sob. Full-bodied, loud, messy sobs.
When I’ve gathered myself enough, I draw a bath and sink into hot water where I fall into sobs yet again.
A knock sounds on the bathroom door a half an hour later, and Kirill enters carrying a bowl of what smells like heaven. His eyes sweep my face, and a tender smile plays at his lips as he sits next to the tub.
“It’s store-bought.” He hands me the bowl, and I see a sloppy mess of warm apple pie. “It’s not an apple cookie, but I hope it helps.”
“You went to the store?” Emotion pricks at my nose. I sniff. Good grief, why am I so hormonal?
“I had one of the men go.”
I take a bite. He’s right, it’s no apple cookie. But it is a close second. “Thank you.”
This time he does let his smile stretch. “You are welcome.”
I take another bite. Kirill watches me so closely, that I frown. I jiggle my bowl. “Do you want some?”
“And risk my life? No, thank you.”
I blush. “I’m sorry. I had a rough day, and didn’t wake well. I should have thought to put some cookies aside.” I look down into my bowl. “I’ve never lived with so many people before.”
He cocks his head. “Does it bother you?”
“A little.” I shrug and amend, “I’m just not used to it.”
“Fair.” He keeps his eyes firmly fixed on my face. “I have an obligation this Saturday. I would like for you to come?”
“An obligation?”
“A charity ball.”
“You?” I feel my brows widen. “Charity?”
