It’s definitely a tight fit.
“What are you laughing at?” he demands.
“Nothing,” I shrug. “You look comfy.”
He grabs ahold of me and pulls me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him.
“Now I’m comfy,” he says with a triumphant grin.
I graze my hands along his shoulders, tracing the path of his many tattoos. “I just finished the book you got me,” I tell him.
“Jesus, already? Well, I guess we can pick up more picks when we head into town tomorrow.”
“You’re not interested in going today?” I venture.
“I kinda just wanna chill at the cabin today. Maybe do some repairs.”
“Hmm, well I was thinking I might head into town on my own then,” I say.
He frowns, but I’m expecting that reaction. “I won’t be long, babe,” I assure him. “We need some groceries, too.”
“Esme—”
“It’s just a trip into town,” I tell him. “No biggie.”
“I don’t like it.” I make a grumpy face, and he smiles. “I’m serious, Esme. I don’t like sending you off on your own unprotected.”
“Please, no one knows we’re here,” she says. “I’m just a pregnant lady out here with my husband. Totally innocent.”
“Speaking of,” Artem adds, his eyes growing weary, “I would prefer you didn’t engage with every single person you come into contact with down there.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“The woman in the book store knew your name,” he explains.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, Daria! Of course she does,” I nod. “I told her my name.”
“That’s my point. She knows too much.”
I laugh. “She knows my name and the fact that I’m pregnant,” I say. “Not exactly the most specific of information. And before you yell at me for that, I didn’t volunteer that stuff to her. She guessed.”
“Still—”
“She’s had three children herself, so we got to talking,” I interrupt him. “It was an innocent conversation.”
“We still have to be careful.”
“You are paranoid,” I accuse him, pressing my finger to his nose.
“Possibly,” he agrees. “But in this case, I’m justified.”
“Artem, please?” I ask. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself for a couple of hours.”
I see the conflict in his eyes. He desperately wants to make sure I’m protected, but he also wants to give in to me.
I have to admit, I kind of like the power I have over him.
Not that he doesn’t have a fuck load of power over me in return.
“Please?”
He sighs. “You minx.”
I laugh. “Is that a yes?”
“Fine,” he says huffily. “But if you’re not back in two hours, I’m coming after you.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say happily, playfully splashing a little water into his face.
64
Esme
After we get out of the tub, Artem slips on a pair of shorts and heads into the kitchen while I get dressed.
When he’s around the cabin, he walks around shirtless most of the time.
That works for me just fine.
We’ve settled into a routine that is comforting and familiar in its domesticity. We wake up and have sex, then we make breakfast together and eat outside if it isn’t too cold for me.
Afterwards, we go for a morning walk, following some of the more obscure trails along the mountain. I pack lunch if we think we’ll be gone for more than a few hours.
Either way, when we get back, I’m always tired. Artem and I usually sit on the porch and talk before dinner.
Other evenings, we spend hours in bed, alternating between power naps and sex.
Artem has his workouts, while I had my books. We both do light housework, mend things that need fixing, and generally keep the cabin as livable as we can.
In fact, by the end of our first week there, it has more or less transformed into a rustic little mountain hideout, complete with all the necessary amenities, barring a few things like continuous hot water.
Every other day, Artem goes down into town for groceries. More often than not, I accompany him. On the odd days where I’d rather stay back, I kiss him goodbye and sit by the fireplace while I compose music in my head.
I’ve fallen into a state of marital bliss I never expected to find.
It’s more fulfilling than I could have ever imagined.
After I’m dressed, I head into the kitchen to find Artem kneeling, as he works on a repair for the table. One of the legs is a little uneven, and he’s putting it back in balance.
“Okay,” I say. “I’d ready for my maiden voyage.”
Artem gets to his feet. I can see the reluctance in his eyes.
“You sure you want to go alone?” he asks.
“I’m sure,” I nod. “I’ll be fine, Artem. Don’t worry.”
“That’s probably not gonna happen,” he sighs. “But I’ll do my best.”
I go to him and kiss him soft and slow on his lips. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him hard, deepening our kiss
By the time he releases me, I’m breathless.
“If that’s how you kiss me every time I go into town by myself, I should go more often,” I tease.
He growls. “Two hours tops, okay?”
I smile. “Got it,” I confirm, before placing a final kiss on his cheek.
He releases me with a frustrated sigh and walks me out to the car. Keys in hand, I give him a little wink and set off on my little trip into town.
I know the route like the back of my hand, since Artem and I have taken this path tons of times in the last week alone. The drive down is slow, peaceful, meditative.
The town is quiet when I drive in. I go to the bookstore first and find Daria stacking books in the back when I walk in.
“Hola, Daria,” I greet, giving her my brightest smile. After months surrounded mostly by Russian men, it’s weirdly refreshing to speak my native language again.
Normally, she’s a bright spot in these little errand runs. But today, Daria’s smile is not as enthusiastic.
I sigh internally. Apparently, my scary Russian husband made quite an impression. Which means I have to do damage
