“I have many men who take care of things.” I am where I need to be, I wanted to add but did not. He was not ready for my honesty. “I started reading those books.”

“Yeah? What do you think?” He yawned, and I knew I would have to leave soon, even when I did not want to.

“You were right. They do get better with each one.”

He smiled. I loved seeing it, loved that I put it there.

“Told you,” he mumbled.

“Da, you did.” I spoke about the characters, the storyline, and where I thought it would go. I talked and talked until I noticed his breathing had evened out. “Sweet dreams now, moya lyubov’,” I whispered, and bent close to press my lips gently to his temple.

Only when I stood, West jerked and gasped, “Adrik.”

I sat back down. “Da?”

“Nothing, sorry.”

“I thought you had fallen asleep?” I questioned.

“I had… but I felt the bed move. Sorry, it’s nothing. Goodnight.”

“West, may I rest on the chair beside your bed?”

“No! Please don’t feel you have to—”

“Hush.” I pressed a finger to his lips.

They moved under my finger when he said, “I don’t want to be a burden. You’ve already done enough.”

“Moya lyubov’. You will never be a burden. Trust me. I would like to stay.”

A blush hit his cheeks. He was always cute. “Then, in that case, take the other side of the bed. I… um, don’t move much.”

My gut twisted in the best way. “Thank you. I would like that.” It could help me sleep also, being close to him. I stood again and moved around the bed. West turned his head my way. With a wave of my hand, I gestured to my pants. “Do you mind?”

The blush was back.

“No,” he blurted quickly. He closed his eyes, and I removed my pants, slipping under the sheet. He opened his eyes as I lay down on my side, facing him.

“Do you need anything? I should have asked already.”

“No.” He smiled. “Lucas has me on the good stuff.”

Reaching out, I pushed his hair from his eyes. “Goodnight, West.”

“Night, Adrik.” He closed his eyes and relaxed into the bed. I did the same, and as I suspected, it did not take me long to find slumber being beside moya lyubov’.

“Hold her,” I ordered Wreck, of all people, and as he did, I gripped her jaw, prying it open. “You will feel everything you inflicted upon your son.” I smiled down at her tear-streaked face as she tried to wiggle free, whimpering. Wreck’s hold on her was steady, though. I rested the tip of the vinegar-filled jug to her lips. “You deserve everything you get.”