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“I thought I said the challenge was denied.” Cecil eyed the handbasket Misha had filled with a variety of cheeses.
“This is nowhere near twenty kilos,” Misha argued. “It’s five, tops. Plus, look at this one –it has blueberries in it! Who puts fruit in cheese? Wisconsin is weird.”
“It’s actually very good.” Harper squeezed past them to pick up a bag of loose tea that was on the shelf beside them. “Particularly with one of the multi-grain crackers they have. It’s a blue box.”
“Those crackers are good with everything,” Pietr added. He held up the basket for Harper to drop their tea into. “Are we stocking up to take stuff back to New York?”
“Here? No. I’ve got a list for Webers though,” they said. “Unless there’s something here you want that they don’t have.”
“What is the difference between this place and Webers?” Misha asked. “It sounds like they’re the same thing.”
“Mausefalle is a cheese house. It works with a couple of local Master Cheesemakers and other businesses to exclusively sell locally made products. Webers is a bulk country store. They have some of the same or similar locally made products. Mostly dairy, but also fresh produce and the like. However, they also have regular grocery staples. Like the soup mix I need.”
“They literally have soup mix right over there,” Misha pointed.
“Yeah, but that’s two dollars more than what I’ll pay at Webers,” Haper said. “Because it’s in a fancy cloth bag and has organic written on it.”
“You realize that your fiancé makes millions a year. He can afford to buy you fancy soup, kis—kitten.”
“I don’t want the fancy soup. I want the cheap stuff,” Harper assured him. “Do you want the fancy soup?”
Misha seemed to struggle with a response for a moment before he groaned. “No, I don’t.”
“Could you two flirt less?” Cecil requested.
“I’m never flirting,” Harper replied. “I don’t understand how it works.”
Cecil frowned at her. “I’ve read your books. You have a pretty decent understanding of how flirting works.”
“I can make two fake people fall in love with quirky humor very easily. Using that mechanic myself, on real people? Not happening.”
“They’re too self-deprecating,” Misha said. “It’s fine. I’m enough of a flirt for both of us.”
Cecil tapped him with his elbow. “I know we’re unlikely to get recognized in a place like this, two thousand miles from our markets, but c’mon. Some discretion?”
“Sorry, CC.” Misha cleared his throat. “I’m in a good mood. I can’t help it.”
“I wonder why that is. You’re usually such a grumpy asshole,” Pietr teased.
“If I knew bringing you guys out in public was going to be like this, I would have told you all to stay at the house.” Harper began walking, moving into the next aisle to select a jar of jam.
“Not to be crude, but I think my filter would stay in place if you’d put on shorts that covered more of your thighs,” Misha explained. “Those don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination.”
Harper turned, giving him a quizzical look. “Huh. I’ve never had a man tell me that I was dressed like a slut before.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that at all.” Misha shook his head. “I simply pointed out that I am a pig, distracted by your ass. You can dress however you wish. You’re only a slut if that was what you were going for.”
There was a slight gasp behind them. An older woman, her hands covering the ears of a snickering middle schooler, bustled past them with a tsk.
“Sorry. No filter.” Misha called after them, then turned back to Harper. “I would never call you that. Ever.”
Harper turned back to the jams and jellies, selecting two of them to add to Pietr’s basket. “It doesn’t matter.”
Misha started to open his mouth to reply. Pietr caught his eye and shook his head. “Drop it,” he mouthed. “Not now.” Misha made a sharp intake before giving a firm nod. He turned back to Cecil, who was considering other jam options as well.
“They have a hot pepper jam.” Cecil raised the jar. “I wonder how that would taste with your blueberry cheese.”
“Throw it in and we’ll find out.” Misha raised the basket and Cecil dropped it inside.
“I want something normal too,” Cecil declared. “Strawberry or Raspberry?”
“Strawberry preferred, but whatever you want.”
“I’ll get both...and a mixed berry.”
“Oh, if you want mixed berry, take this one instead,” Harper suggested, handing over a label with an Amish gentleman drawn on it. “It’s got lower sugar and more flavor.”
“That seems like an oxymoron.”
“I don’t know how they do it.” Harper shrugged.
“Is that the last of what you wanted to pick up here?” Pietr asked. He put a gentle hand to their back.
“I think so. We’ve been through most of the store,” Harper replied.
The group made their way to the register. Their purchases were packed neatly into some boxes for them to carry out to the SUV.
“Harper.” Misha caught her around the waist as the two of them tucked their boxes into the back of the vehicle. “You look beautiful today.”
Harper frowned, gently pushing his hands away. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry if what I said offended. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know.”
“Do you? What I said wasn’t a lie. You’re dressed in a way that has been keeping me half-hard since I saw you bent over the kitchen island this morning. I wouldn’t act on that in public though.”
“You’re doing it right now.” She looked down at his hands, which had slid up her arms.
He grunted, pulling away from her. “I am. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. We’re just...we’re in public, Misha. While we’re fairly anonymous here, it is public and it’s not impossible that one of the three of you will get recognized. We could run into someone I went to high school with, a friend of my parents, or any other number of locals who know who I am. I don’t want stupid rumors started. Or true ones getting spread around.”
“I’m not afraid of what people think.”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “So you’re married but no one knows because...”
“That’s different.”
“How is that different from rumors getting started that I’m cheating on Pietr with you? Or that Pietr is some kind of cuckold.”
“Some kind? He is sort of one of his own making –I know, that’s not the point you’re trying to make.” He waved a hand. “You’re right. People find out things about our personal lives and sometimes it’s made a big deal. Pietr got lucky, coming out, that it was a non-issue. If Cecil and I were to announce to the world that we’re married, we could lose a lot. Cecil’s team isn’t very supportive. Mine is better, but it’s still hard.”
“Misha,” Harper sighed. She reached up, patting his cheek, “I love hockey. Not as much as you guys do, by any rate. But it’s killing all three of you. Slowly, but surely. Bottling everything up all the time because of status quo and expectations... It’s going to fuck with your head sooner or later.”
“That is why it is important for us to find our safe spaces. Safe people. Chosen family, not just blood or hockey families.” Misha held their hand to his cheek. “I feel very safe with you around. And Pietr.”
“I do too.”
“What are you two doing back there?” Pietr’s voice called from the driver’s seat. “If you’re going to make out or something, do it in the car.”
Harper laughed. She stroked her fingers along Misha’s jaw, then down the front of his shirt. “Come on. Let’s get to Webers. Then we’ll go somewhere nice for lunch. And when we get home, maybe I’ll let you take a closer look at what is hidden under these shorts.”
Misha growled. “You test me, Kiska.”
“Keep it in your shorts, Daddy.” Harper grinned at him before spinning away to circle toward the passenger side door. Misha let out a low, loud groan.
“You can’t call me that,” he called out to her as he followed, getting in behind her and beside Cecil. “Not in that tone, in a parking lot. Are you a brat? I would never have guessed.
“Oh no,” Pietr feigned a sigh, “what did you do?”
“Nothing. Let’s go to Webers.” Harper clicked their seatbelt into place.
“They called me Daddy, in a very sexy tone,” Misha explained. “It went straight south and now I’m very uncomfortable.” He made an exaggerated shift in the seat, followed by a string of Russian curses that made Pietr chuckle.
“You do have a Daddy vibe,” Pietr countered. He directed the SUV out of the parking lot and back onto the road. “But Harper isn’t a brat, by my understanding. Plus, you should let them Domme sometime.” He hummed. “Switching can be fun.”
“The three of you are ridiculous,” Cecil announced. “Do you ever stop thinking about sex?”
“No,” the three of them replied in unison, making all of them laugh.
Webers was a short fifteen minute drive from Mausfalle. The Mennonite owned country store had expanded since Harper’s childhood and offered an expanse of goods both fresh and preserved. Harper grabbed a basket as they entered and headed straight for the back of the store.
Pietr let them go, handing a basket over to Cecil. “Here. See what you can find. They have an excellent gluten free area here. Keto as well.”
“Thanks.” Cecil took the basket and went a few steps ahead of them.
“Comrade,” Pietr switched over to Russian, speaking quietly to Misha, “is everything okay with you?”
“Yes,” Misha replied in kind, “everything is great. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. You seem playful today. That’s good. I worry about what that is doing to your husband though.”
“My husband is my problem,” Misha retorted. “He knows I love him very much. This is something that we’ll have to keep talking about. It was a good first step, coming here.”
“This thing we are doing,” Pietr said, “you don’t want this, do you? The four of us.”
“It is fun,” Misha countered. “I am enjoying it very much. But, no. I want Harper. You’re a nice bonus, comrade. I already have a man who makes me very, very happy. Not that I need a female person too. She appeared in front of me, thanks to you, and has been in my head since.” He smiled softly. “I was so happy to run into the two of you again at the awards. That she was willing to talk to me. Open up to me. Let me be open. I couldn’t stand letting her think that she was anything less than beautiful.”
“I know that feeling well,” Pietr answered. “I feel it almost every day when I see her struggling with how she is. How she looks.”
Misha grunted. “You are not offended that I want to keep sleeping with your fiancé?”
“Who wouldn’t? Especially after they’ve tasted her?” He smirked. “No, I don’t mind that at all. But it will be difficult to maintain something regular. You are welcome to visit us when you play in New York. We can figure out when we have down time during the season or the summer for traveling. But please decide how far you want to go. How much you can commit before you ask her for more. What you want for rules. That kind of thing.”
“I don’t want rules.” Misha looked confused. “She is her own person. She can do as she pleases. And is your fiancé. You have more right to say what there are for rules than I do. I am already playing by your rules which are sensible.”
“Yes,” Pietr nodded, “and if that works for you, good. Does she need to run it by you to do something with someone else? If I’m not involved, I mean. We don’t clear things by Isaac, although we tell him anyway. And he tells us when he’s dating.”
“No,” Misha shook his head, “I don’t need to know, as long as the other rules are followed.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Okay, I agree that before we leave this should be discussed. The four of us. I will put some thought into it before then. Good?”
“Good,” Pietr agreed. “I wanted to know what you were thinking. I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I care about her more than I care about anything else in the world.”
“I understand,” Misha assured him. “I will not get in the way of you and your beloved. I am asking to borrow her occasionally.” He smiled. “Is that okay?”
“Yes,” Pietr nodded. His eyes took on a hazy expression. “As long as I get to watch once in a while.”
“I don’t mind that at all.”
“Are you two having a secret conversation?” Harper held out the basket to Pietr who took it, letting out a soft oomph as he did so. “Thanks, that was heavy.”
“Are you buying whole soup section?” He looked down at the basket.
“We’re not going to get back here until November,” Harper reminded him. “And there’s no guarantee that we’ll make it here when we come home.”
“Baby,” he leveled, “we would live without it.”
“Why when we can stock up now?”
“Okay, I will not argue with you.” He slid an arm around their shoulders and pulled them close. He pressed a kiss to their forehead. “I love you so much.”
“That’s his way of saying he’s exasperated,” Harper stage whispered. They turned, spotting the display beside them. “Ooh, oatmeal.” They selected a bag with dried fruit in it and added it to the basket.
“Are you two excited to be heading back to New York soon?” Misha asked, moving them along the aisle.
“Yes and no,” Harper admitted. “I love the new house, but New York is still home and where we need to be.” They heaved a sigh. “The renovations on the carriage house should be done in October. I’ve already talked to Isaac; we’re going to spend a couple of weeks here in November while Pietr has a long string of away games. Then, he’s joining us for Thanksgiving with our parents.”
“If I’m not invited, we might come spend All Star Week here as well,” Pietr said. “Then, all summer. Except for brief trip to...wherever we end up deciding.”
“Sounds like you’ve already created some solid plans.”
“Solid but with a lot of wiggle room,” Harper replied. “Schedules can change at any time.”
“Being around all this food has me starving.” Cecil approached, his own basket filled with some dry goods.
“I’m ready for lunch,” Harper agreed. “There’s a family restaurant nearby, or we could go to Eau Claire. More options, depending on what you’re hungry for.”
“A nice casual place sounds nice,” Cecil replied. “Plus, smaller town, less likely we’re going to get recognized.”
“This is true. Or, at least, less likely that someone would be brash enough to approach.”
“Also true,” Pietr agreed. “I have not been nervous to be out and about while here. Perk of not being on the home team. Most people have no idea who the fuck I am. It’s great.”
Misha chuckled. “Let’s go then.”