“What, am I supposed to guess what it is?” I peered around the weather-beaten porch. The scraggly yard full of weeds and abandoned toys. The car that was ticking like a time bomb, ready to relieve me of some of my hard-earned cash with some dumb failure or breakdown. “Did we win the lottery? Please tell me that we won the lottery.”
“I don’t know about that,” my mom said right as the sudden crunch of tires and plinks of tumbling gravel made me turn. It was some kind of silent car, spinning out into the driveway. I dashed out to the yard to get the triplets out of the way, but the vehicle stopped on a dime.
Jonathan, of all people, tumbled out of the driver’s seat, breathless with laughter.
“Glad to see you’re having fun, idiot,” I growled at him. “You could’ve chipped that nice paint job with a niece or nephew of yours.”
“I was nowhere near them,” he said, incredulous at my rage. “And it’s good to see you too, Sadie.”
“Yeah, right,” I huffed, my heart still racing. “Have kids someday. You’ll understand why I want to strangle you every time we cross paths.”
“I think you’ve had enough kids for the both of us,” he said, his tone deceptively light.
“Wow,” I said, gearing up for a big fight. I deserved this. He deserved whatever I was going to give him. But then the passenger side door of what I was realizing was a Tesla opened, and all the fight whooshed out of me.
Taller than I remembered. Broader, too — all muscular shoulders that tapered down in a classic V. Eyes just as deep blue as all three of the children he’d fathered. The beard was new. The beard … did things to me. Reminded me of all the years that had passed. Because the Mikhail I knew had left still almost a boy. Long and lanky and a little bit sweet.
The person standing in front of me was all man. Hard and serious and a little bit dangerous.
Mikhail was back.
Just like he’d promised.