Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(60)

“I wanted a camel but Baba said no,” I say with a sigh.

He gives me an odd look I ignore. I peek into the different rooms, satisfied with how everything has come together between my first inspection this morning and now.

“What do you think?” I ask him after we tour the club.

“I think Mikael would shit himself knowing there’s a donkey in the club.”

“Petr!” I slap him lightly on the back of the head.

He laughs. “I love it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, good, because you have to be here for the reception in the morning,” I say, pleased.

“Seriously? I’ve got a bottle of hundred year old whiskey waiting for me.”

“No drinking tonight!” I order him. “You can’t show up drunk or hung over.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Wait, are you even allowed to drink?”

“Kitty-Khav!” He wraps me in a chokehold and hauls me against him. “I’ll be here, and I’ll be capable of shaking a few hands.” He gives me a noogie. I bat his hand away. “Okay?”

It’s not, but this is something else I’ve been working on: not being quite so overbearing. I still worry about him all the time.

“Fine,” I snap. “Stop it!” I wriggle loose from him and smooth out my hair.

“Seriously. This is awesome.” His smile is warm, his blue eyes on me. “You’re amazing, Kitty.”

“I know. About time you figured that out.” I look around, nervous about everything. “Did you invite that girl you met to the party?”

“Nah.”

It’s not like Petr to be shy around a girl he’s interested in. When he says nothing further, I glance at him.

“Because …” I prod.

He shrugs.

“You don’t like her? She’s another Brianna? She’s mean?”

“Didn’t feel right.”

“What does that mean?” I study him.

He’s not interested in talking about it. That much I can see from the change in his expression. It’s never stopped me from dragging something out of him before, and it won’t now.

“If you like her, you should at least bring her by,” I urge. “I’ll tell you if you can date her or not.”

“She kind of freaked out about my leg,” he admits for my ears only.

“She what?” My face flashes hot. “Did she say something? I know how to punch now. You met her at the coffee shop, right?” Fury tears through me, replacing the chill of the club with warmth. I know the spots he frequents. I’m pretty sure I can find out which bitch she is.

Petr’s guarded expression melts with his laugh. “Down, Kitty-Khav. You aren’t beating up any more of my girlfriends.”

“Seriously, Petr. Did she say something?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t need someone like that around. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, but –”

“But nothing. I consider myself fortunate to learn that before I decide if I like her or not. She’s not worth the anger, Kitty-Khav.” Too laid back to tell me to back off like I might him, I can hear the firm note in his tone that warns me I’m not helping the situation.

I stew for a minute, reining in my anger. Petr doesn’t seem too affected by it, but I know him well enough to know he is on some level. He’s always been more sensitive than Mikael was.

“You’re right.” Being calm when I want to scream is like eating glass. I hate it. It’s one lesson I haven’t learned well from the therapist. “Not worth it.” Except I’m too pissed to let it go like I should. “You can point her out next time we go to the coffee shop. I’ll handle it.”

He shakes his head with a grin. “It’s for the best, Kitty.”

“You are too good to deal with someone like that.” I’m calming, probably influenced by the fact he really doesn’t seem too upset. “People really suck.”

“There are good eggs out there. You just have to find them.”

And not drive them off. “That pisses me off. You’re the best person I know.”

“Speaking of dating, where’s your puppy?”

“Oliver isn’t a puppy,” I say and roll my eyes. He kind of does follow me around everywhere. “I told him to go home.”

“He’s really not your type.”

“He’s nice.” Oliver has been hinting a lot at becoming more serious as a couple, while I’m considering breaking it off. We’ve had sex a few times, but I’m not feeling it with him. “I don’t think I have a type.”

He definitely doesn’t drive me wild the way Sawyer Mathis did. I have a feeling I’ll compare every man I ever date to Sawyer. The one who got away. Or more accurately, the one I drove away.

“Dating sucks,” Petr mutters.

“Agreed.”

“You staying for a while?”

I nod. “I’m really nervous. I can’t seem to stay away. Hoping to see everything set up tonight so I can sleep without worrying.”

“It’ll go well,” he says with confidence I don’t feel. “Out of curiosity, how did you convince the club board to let you have livestock on the veranda?”