Dimitri walked until he found a small park and sat down on the first bench he came to, the burning in his legs a welcome sensation. It helped combat some of the shock currently running through every cell in his body.
She loved him.
How the fuck had it happened and he’d not seen it?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He’d kept pressing her, and she’d tried to stay away, to put distance between them because if she gave in, it would mean more to her than it did him. He was a fucking romance author, so he knew that was how she’d feel. He’d written that so many times, but in his books, the women always ended up with their man. Destiny, and all that.
Maybe subconsciously he had known all along, and instead of letting himself admit it, he’d acted on it in his books? He groaned and let his head rest in his hands. Too much psychobabble, even for him. What was he going to do? How was he going to go back in that room, knowing he couldn’t give her what she wanted?
He pulled out his phone and called the one person who might help him.
“Son.” The deep sound of his father’s voice instantly calmed him. The old man always had been the person he looked up to and asked for advice. Ronin Kincaid never judged, never talked to his sons in a condescending manner, and never got so angry he couldn’t see reason. He was who Dimitri hoped to be one day.
“Hi, Papa. I didn’t wake you, did I?” It might be early afternoon here, but it was getting late in Russia.
“It’s only nine p.m. I’m not in the grave yet.”
Dimitri laughed at the disgruntled sound of his father’s voice. The man might be fifty, but he was in better condition than they were. He’d probably go to the grave with his soldier’s physique. “How have you been, old man?”
Ronin snorted at the old man jab. “I’m good, but from the sound of you, you’re not so good. What’s wrong, boy?”
Leave it to his papa to know the subtle things in his voice that gave away how upset he was. If he’d called any of his brothers, they’d never have deciphered it. It was a parent thing, his mama once told him. He’d been thirteen and contemplating smoking the pot his friend had given him. His mother had known. How? He had no clue, but she had.
“It’s a girl, Papa.”
“It’s always about a girl.” Ronin chuckled on the other side of the line. “You just figuring this out?”
“No, I’m not just figuring this out. I write romance novels for a living.”
“Don’t mean you know shit about women, Dimitri. You write fiction. Until you fall for a girl and go through all the ups and downs of that, you know shit, boy.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Nothing he wrote had prepared him for this. “That’s why I’m calling, Papa. I need some advice about that. How did you know you loved Mama? What was it that made you realize she was yours?”
His old man let out a low whistle. “You got yourself in a pickle, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Papa, I do, and I might end up hurting the only person I never want to.”
“Tell me.”
Dimitri spent the next hour telling him about Becca, from when they met up until when he’d walked out on her in the hotel room.
“You got yourself into a fine mess there, boy.” He broke off, saying something to someone in the background.
“Is that Mama?”
“No, it’s the wicked witch.”
“What?”
“Your babushka. She wants to know about this girl.”
Dimitri groaned. Leave it to his grandmother to eavesdrop. “Tell her nothing! I want to actually try to fix this thing without her twisting me up in knots.”
And she would. His grandmother would have him so out of whack, he’d never make a decision, other than the decision she wanted him to make.
“I told her you’d call her later, once your head was sorted out.” Ronin coughed, and it worried Dimitri. His father had been coughing a lot recently. His mother sent him an email about it. Said he refused to go see a doctor.
“You been to the doctor yet about that cough, old man?”
“Your mother’s been in your ear, eh?” He grunted, but it wasn’t aggravated. “I have an appointment for next week. I just don’t want to say anything until I know what’s going on. No sense worrying her if there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Papa, she’s worried because she thinks you aren’t. If you tell her you have an appointment, she’ll settle down. You’re causing her worry by keeping this from her.”
Another grunt. “I might tell her, don’t know yet. Back to you and your girl. So, what made me know your mama was it for me? Well, I don’t think it really was just one thing. She snuck up on me, real stealthy-like. Her smile drew me in, her laugh made me ask her out. She teased me, she threw me off balance, and did a number on my head.” He laughed, and Dimitri grinned thinking about his old man off balance. He always had such control. It was hard to imagine the strict soldier anything but stoic and in control.
“Was there something that made you realize you couldn’t live without her, though? You and Mama had one of the fastest courtships in history. I think you were even faster than Nik and Lily. Boy proposed after only a few months.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Dimitri. Kincaid men, we don’t need a long time to know what we want. Sometimes you can overcomplicate it, but in the end, we just know.”
“Papa, that makes no sense. You can’t just know.”
“It was snowing that night. I was going to be shipping out to Germany the next week. Didn’t know how long I’d be gone. I thought to myself, I should just leave it alone, she’d be better off with someone who she didn’t have to constantly worry about. Someone who would be there every day for her, not a soldier who was gone for months on end sometimes.”
“But?”
“But I asked myself a question. What would it feel like to never hear her voice, or see the joy sparkling in those beautiful blue eyes of hers? To never see her dancing without a care in the world or to hear her laugh? It gutted me, boy, and that’s when I knew I couldn’t live without her. I had to have her even if it was wrong. She’d wormed herself under my skin, and I loved her.”
It was something his father would do, list the pros and cons, and then make a decision.
“This girl, you’ve known her for a long time. Gotten to know her really well. She’s the one person you never go a day without speaking to. Hell, you jumped on an airplane to go after her when she wouldn’t return your calls. I think there’s more there than you want to admit, son.”
“I don’t know, Papa. I don’t do relationships…”
His father’s snort cut him off. “Don’t know where I went wrong with you boys. None of you have a healthy respect for women, except Viktor. That boy understands finding a woman and earning her love and respect is worth more than anything else in this world. You can amass a fortune, surround yourself in all the trappings of happiness, but if you have no one to share it with? To grow old with, who will still laugh at your very unfunny jokes? What’s the point if not that?”
“I do have a healthy respect for women,” he denied, only to be cut off by his father again.
“Don’t forget who you’re speaking to. I know my own son. You do not have respect for women, not the way you go through them like your mother does shoes. They’re like toys to you, and once the newness wears off, you toss them and look for the shinier, newer toy. You don’t give them a chance to be anything more.”
True enough. He’d never looked at it like that. Once he’d gotten a bit of money and his name started to mean something in the author world, he’d accepted all the women who’d vied for his attention. He hadn’t always been an asshole, but they’d worn him down. He’d seen them arguing over not him, but his money and his claim to fame, small that it was. It disheartened him. He said as much to his father.
“Son, people are people, good and bad, man or woman. You seem to latch onto the ones who want what they can get. Have you looked for one that doesn’t see your money? Only looks at you?”
“Looked for one? No.”
“Have you ever met someone like that?”
“Becca.” His answer tumbled off his lips unbidden. “She’s been here from the beginning. She wouldn’t care if I was penniless. She’d still be my friend.”
“And what does that tell you?”
“That she’s worth more than a casual booty call.”
Ronin laughed. “Were you the one to teach your grandmother that word?”
“Hell, no. I learned it from her!”
“I swear, it’s her favorite word. She used it yesterday in line at the grocery store. Embarrassed the fool out of your mother.”
“That sounds like our babushka.” Dimitri laughed. He really needed to make time to go over and visit his family. It’d been a few years, at least.
“I’m not going to tell you to go out and start something with your girl.” Dimitri sobered up when his father turned serious. “You’re right in that taking it to a sexual relationship might ruin everything. She loves you, and if you think you can never return those feelings, then put the brakes on. Control your dick. If you love her as much as you say you do, then don’t hurt her.” He cleared his throat. “But ask yourself that same question I did. Think long and hard on the answer, before you walk away from the one woman who you make a point to speak to every day. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I will, Papa, thank you.”
Ronin coughed again, reminding Dimitri of his mother’s worries. Maybe he’d make that trip to Russia sooner rather than later.
“Your mama’s calling me. If I keep that woman waiting, she’ll never…”
“Don’t say it!” Dimitri interrupted him. That was an image he did not need in his head.
Ronin laughed. “I’ll talk to you soon, son. Love you.”
“Love you too, old man.”
Dimitri disconnected the call and sat there, staring at the trees and the flowers, thinking about everything as his Papa had asked him. He watched the sun start its descent and felt the air grow cooler as the hours passed.
Mind made up, he stood and started the slow trek back to the hotel, the pain in his legs the least of his worries.