Page 4 of Cherished By the BRATVA Grump

The noise is the first thing that hits me when I open the door. Delilah is laughing that big, loud laugh that never fails to make Jasper grin like an idiot. I shake my head, question my sanity one last time, and make my way over to the counter.

“Eduard sent me,” I say, then add, “To help.”

Sammie stops whatever she is doing and turns to look at me; Misha tucked against her chest in a sling. “Demyan,” she says, putting the mug in her hand down. “Are you sure?”

I wonder what would be appropriate to say or do in this moment. Should I shrug? Should I tell her it’s fine and offer a smile? When was the last time I smiled? I probably shouldn’t in case it looks menacing or something.

Why am I overthinking this? Now it’s too late to answer at all.

“Yes. I can learn to make coffee.”

Delilah nods, somewhat solemnly. “Yes,” she says. “You can. And we appreciate it so very much…”

“But?” I demand, then realize that I’m not talking to the guys on the yard or someone my cousins have asked me to get money from. I’m talking to my cousins’ wives.

“But it’s fine, really, Daisy will help when the time comes, and Kimmie, if she can get over the whole nausea-at-the-scent-of-coffee thing. And Tamsin has offered too. Coming in today in fact, to learn the ropes.”

Tamsin.

That was fast.

I frown at Delilah. “Well, surely there’s something I can do to help. Eduard sent me, so it’s my duty now.”

“Right,” Sammie says slowly. “How about you dutifully sit your somewhat huge and menacing ass down in that chair over there, and I’ll bring you a slice of pecan. That’s your favorite, right?”

The fact that she knows my favorite type of pie shouldn’t surprise me, she has been married to Eduard for what feels like forever now, she is two kids in. But I also barely ever come here. Cats and socializing with random people are not my scene.

The bell above the door jingles. I fight the urge to wince at the sound, and I turn to find Tamsin walking into the café with her mother and the warmest smile I’ve ever seen on another human.

Everything fades away. The light frames her in a way that feels cinematic. I silently scold myself for being stupid, but I don’t stop looking.

Our eyes are locked together as she walks towards the counter, her smile faltering slightly when I don’t return it.

I want to.

I want to smile at this beautiful woman and tell her that life is only worth living if she is in it.

“Demyan?” Delilah says, I’m guessing it’s not the first time by the tone of her voice.

I turn back to find her ushering me towards the chair Sammie had originally suggested I sit in. From here, I can see the whole café, and all the cats in their various states of lounging. Apart from the one with the stripy tail. That one is grooming himself.

But mostly, I watch as Tamsin is offered an apron, which she ties around her waist fluidly. Like she is made of softness and motion and grace. I watch as Delilah takes her through the motions of making a coffee using that noisy, infernal machine, and talks about the best time to restock the pastry case.

I don’t immediately notice when Tamsin’s mother sits down opposite me.

“You’re one of the Federov’s,” she says. It’s not a question.

I turn to her and nod.

“Are you as good as the others?” This time, it is a question, and it gets my whole attention.

I would never have described any of us as good. We are Bratva, and we do bad shit all the time, even if it is for good reasons underneath. It wasn’t that long ago I was helping Natan clean up a very human-shaped mess after Jasper found the guy who was stalking Delilah…

His body hasn’t been found yet.

And then there’s the way we obtained most of the properties down this street…

Tamsin’s mother waits patiently for me to answer, sipping her tea and scratching the nose of a fat, red cat that’s appeared at her side.