Page 107 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

“Dad.” Daphne pointed at the grill.

Dad leaned forward in his lawn chair, eyes narrowed on the grill. “They’re fine.”

“They’re on fire.” Daphne groaned and checked that her daughters were still playing together on the blanket Scott had spread beneath the trees.

“A little char never hurt anyone.” He stood and flipped the hotdogs, scowling at the black bubbles emitting a sharp odor.

Mom pressed a hand over her eyes. “Every single time.”

Leo handed me a sparkling water, his gaze on the grill. “Should I offer to help?”

“Absolutely not.” I took the water and cracked the seal. “This is a sacred ritual. You have to let it happen.”

“Those hot dogs are–”

I poked his chest. “Sacred. Ritual.” My head tipped to the side. “Especially since we were just formally-informally married in my parents’ back yard.” I motioned at my white dress and their crisp jeans with their brand-new short-sleeved shirts. They looked very rural, very urban chic. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the way he raised his eyebrows.

“Right.” He rubbed the spot where I’d gouged him but kept the rest of his thoughts to himself.

Everything had taken time.

Dad might have told me to go with him, but he hadn’t fully trusted them until the last few months.

Mom had warmed up first, which was no surprise once Leo felt confident enough to turn on the charm.

He’d been coming with me to visit for months.

They all came when they could, and with every visit, with every conversation, the ground between them and my parents became more stable.

All three of them had taken a hit when they had to explain the situation about Anton last year, but Mom, Dad, and the rest of the family came around.

They answered questions honestly and had stopped holding things back.

But then Dad had clapped Viktor on the back at Christmas and welcomed him to the family, and we all knew it would be okay.

Misha won them over through Luka. There was no other explanation, and the way Luka interacted with Misha melted everyone’s heart.

Tommy walked around the corner of the house with marshmallows and graham crackers, along with chocolate bars. “Who wants s’mores?”

“We haven’t even eaten yet.” Daphne pointed at the smoking grill and Mom bringing out condiments from the kitchen.

“We have twenty minutes.” Tommy sat in the grass and tore open the marshmallows. “Luka, want s’more?”

Luka, who had been sitting on the porch steps with Misha, bounced to his feet. “Yes, please!”

“That’s my guy.” Tommy waved him over. “Come help me.”

Luka launched off the steps and sprinted across the yard, his sneakers lighting up with every footfall.

He’d discovered light-up shoes a month ago and had not been able to concentrate on any other kind of shoe since.

Misha bought him three pairs in different colors, and Luka swapped out every day.

Luka threw himself onto the grass beside Tommy and started sorting marshmallows, claiming he needed the perfect one.

Viktor bumped his shoulder into mine, drawing my attention. “Memorizing moments?”

“Yeah. You?”