Page 123 of Mile High Ex's Dad
I straighten and fold my arms loosely, mostly so I have something to do with them. “They’re easier than people.”
His mouth shifts, not quite a smile. “That depends on the flowers.”
I glance at the path behind him. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere important?”
“I am,” he says, softly.
He looks tired. Not messy, not even visibly strained, but I can see it anyway. In the set of his eyes. In the way he’s standing a little too still.
“You didn’t sleep,” I say.
He looks at me for a second. “Neither did you.”
Fair.
I look past him toward the lawn. “Your men are making everyone nervous.”
“They’re meant to.”
“Wonderful.”
“They’re also meant to keep today from getting worse.”
I meet his eyes then.
There it is again. The quiet reminder that yesterday actually happened, that none of this is just pre-wedding nerves and staff stress and family drama.
Someone nearly died.
Something is wrong.
He knows more than he’s saying.
I want to ask, but I know better than to do it out here.
Instead I say, “Yuri looks like he’d rather throw me off the property than say good morning.”
That gets a real smile out of him this time, brief but unmistakable. “That’s just how he looks before noon.”
“No,” I say. “That’s how he looks at me.”
Viktor’s expression settles again. “Yuri looks at everyone like a problem until proven otherwise.”
“Comforting.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
I exhale and look back at the flowers because if I keep looking at him too long, I’ll start remembering things I absolutely should not be remembering standing beside a chapel in daylight.
“Sienna.”
Just my name. Low enough that it changes the air anyway.
I keep my eyes on the arrangement. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“That voice.”
