Raj didn’t reply, his attention on her gaze. “What is it?”
So damn perceptive. He’d learn all her secrets if she wasn’t careful. “What if it doesn’t work out?” she whispered. “All this…” The public declaration that no one could mistake, the expectation.
“I’ll be the bad guy,” he told her, the words a promise. “I will not allow anything to blow back on you. If I have to, I’ll make up a secret girlfriend so everyone thinks I’m a shit.”
For some strange reason, she trusted him to do exactly that, to shield her against the gossip and the whispers regardless of the personal cost. “I don’t know, it might be interesting for me to have a scandalous reputation.”
“You won’t,” Raj said, his gaze steady and his voice determined. “No matter what I have to do.”
“Raj.” Her father’s voice. “Jitesh was telling me about your latest project.”
Switching focus and giving her much-needed breathing room, his arm no longer on the back of her chair, Raj began to talk about the job. She listened and heard a passion in his voice that said he loved his work. He worked hard, and he found pleasure in creating and in giving his clients what they desired.
Nayna had the certainty he’d be as dedicated to giving a woman pleasure. Raj wasn’t the kind of man who left anything unfinished. He’d probably consider it a failure on his part if his lover didn’t orgasm.
Nayna shivered inside… and continued to enjoy his proximity. Until he disappeared an hour before the end of the ceremony. Leaving her to deal with the fallout.
“Well, Shilpa,” the aunties said to her mother, “you didn’t tell us your little Nayna was engaged.”
“It’s not official yet,” her mother said, sanguine now that Raj had put his cards on the table. “You know young girls these days, they want the ‘proper’ romantic proposal.”
The aunties all nodded like a flock of wise hens.
She really was going to murder him.
18
Raj Discovers Sexting Is A Thing
Nayna abandoned her plan to get back at Raj for his quick exit when her grandmother suddenly started feeling unwell soon after she and Nayna arrived home. Her parents had been invited by the Mehras to an after-party that was no-offspring-allowed, so it was just the two of them.
“Let’s go,” Nayna said at once when her grandmother complained of chest pains. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She texted Raj from the emergency room while her grandmother was being examined.
I’ll meet you, he immediately replied.
Wait—I’ll see what they say first. I might have to ask you to get my parents and bring them here. I don’t want them driving this late when they’ll be worried.
In the end, it turned out Aji just had a bad case of indigestion.
“All that wedding food,” her grandmother muttered as Nayna helped her into bed. “I’m going on a diet tomorrow. Can you tell Tawhiri I won’t be able to go for our morning walk?”
It took Nayna a minute to work out that Tawhiri must be Mr. Hohepa. “I will, don’t worry.”
“And your Raj?” Aji mumbled. “Did you tell him?”
“Yes, Aji.” She’d messaged him the instant they found out, then told him to get some sleep.
I’ll probably fall asleep on you if we meet now, she’d written.
His responding comment had been Raj-solemn. If you need me, call me. Whatever the time.
Nayna had stared at those words for a long time. What would it be like, to have Raj permanently at her back? The idea of it was breathtakingly tempting, but as Ísa worried about Sailor Bishop having time for her, Nayna worried what place she’d have in Raj’s life long term. She was a priority now, but what role would she have as the years moved on?
Nayna had been last on everyone’s priorities for a long time.
It hurt her heart to think of being delegated to the bottom of the heap by Raj.
“You’re overthinking things, Nayna,” she whispered. “You promised to give him a chance, so worry about the rest later.”
Since it was already four thirty and—thanks to Aji—Nayna knew Mr. Hohepa was usually up around five, she wandered into her room and took her time finally removing her wedding finery and makeup. She’d gotten a few interested looks in the ER from the walking wounded, but she hadn’t stuck out the most. That honor had gone to a man in a pink tutu, paper crown, and pink tank top, his black chest hair sticking out everywhere and a bloodied towel held up to his nose.
A bachelor party gone very bad.
The light came on in Mr. Hohepa’s kitchen. Time for her to play messenger for these two lovebirds. After she did the promised task—and convinced Mr. Hohepa that his obviously adored Heera was quite fine—she finally fell into bed. But she couldn’t sleep, was still awake at five thirty when her parents finally stumbled home.
“Shh,” her mother said with a giggle. “We’ll wake Nayna and Amma.”
Her father’s deeper tones answered with something unintelligible, but her mother giggled again before the master bedroom door shut.
“My parents are getting more sexing than I am. The universe is now openly mocking me,” Nayna muttered to the ceiling before tugging up her light summer-weight duvet and turning firmly onto her side.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she dreamed of kisses on the nape and big hands cupping her breasts… and a man she couldn’t reach no matter how painfully she stretched out her hands.
* * *
Christmas Eve morning was a late start for the entire Sharma family. Nayna had hoped to make her aborted rendezvous with Raj that night, but Madhuri came over with a Bollywood DVD and a hopeful look in her eyes and Nayna couldn’t say no—Madhuri was like Teflon; things usually just rolled off her, but this one hurt, it had stuck.
Christmas Eve was the anniversary of the day her husband had abandoned her in a strange mining town on the edge of nowhere, taking off in their car and with what little savings they had. I have to be with my sister tonight, she told Raj. It’s a bad time of year for her.
Understood, was the single-word response.
Nayna wasn’t sure if that meant exactly what it said or if he was annoyed or irritated. She decided on the former. Raj wasn’t the subtle or passive-aggressive type when it came to the words he’d written to her. He said what he meant and meant what he said.
Christmas Day also dawned quietly but quickly became busy. For the Sharmas, it was a day about family, and this year Nayna’s parents were hosting the annual barbeque for their relations. Even though everyone would turn up with salads, cakes, cooked dishes, and more, Nayna’s mother was convinced they had to prepare a million different things.
“Ma, no one will starve,” Nayna pointed out while frying the samosas. “You realize we’ll have leftovers for a month?”
“Silly girl. You know everyone wants to take leftovers away. We don’t want to be the stingy ones who never had any leftovers.”
“I wonder if Iosua will bring his trifle,” Nayna said. “I wouldn’t mind eating a great big bowl of that.”
“I told him to bring it,” Shilpa Sharma said while busily chopping up vegetables for a fancy salad. “Every time we have a party, I’m so happy your cousin married a dessert chef.”
Laughing, Nayna fished out the samosas and put in a fresh set to fry. Meanwhile, her father was outside making sure the grill was all set to go, and Madhuri was doing decorations. Aji sat at the kitchen table, mixing dough for a fried treat Nayna loved—basically sweet, cakey balls with raisins. She’d have no problem cooking those.
So damn perceptive. He’d learn all her secrets if she wasn’t careful. “What if it doesn’t work out?” she whispered. “All this…” The public declaration that no one could mistake, the expectation.
“I’ll be the bad guy,” he told her, the words a promise. “I will not allow anything to blow back on you. If I have to, I’ll make up a secret girlfriend so everyone thinks I’m a shit.”
For some strange reason, she trusted him to do exactly that, to shield her against the gossip and the whispers regardless of the personal cost. “I don’t know, it might be interesting for me to have a scandalous reputation.”
“You won’t,” Raj said, his gaze steady and his voice determined. “No matter what I have to do.”
“Raj.” Her father’s voice. “Jitesh was telling me about your latest project.”
Switching focus and giving her much-needed breathing room, his arm no longer on the back of her chair, Raj began to talk about the job. She listened and heard a passion in his voice that said he loved his work. He worked hard, and he found pleasure in creating and in giving his clients what they desired.
Nayna had the certainty he’d be as dedicated to giving a woman pleasure. Raj wasn’t the kind of man who left anything unfinished. He’d probably consider it a failure on his part if his lover didn’t orgasm.
Nayna shivered inside… and continued to enjoy his proximity. Until he disappeared an hour before the end of the ceremony. Leaving her to deal with the fallout.
“Well, Shilpa,” the aunties said to her mother, “you didn’t tell us your little Nayna was engaged.”
“It’s not official yet,” her mother said, sanguine now that Raj had put his cards on the table. “You know young girls these days, they want the ‘proper’ romantic proposal.”
The aunties all nodded like a flock of wise hens.
She really was going to murder him.
18
Raj Discovers Sexting Is A Thing
Nayna abandoned her plan to get back at Raj for his quick exit when her grandmother suddenly started feeling unwell soon after she and Nayna arrived home. Her parents had been invited by the Mehras to an after-party that was no-offspring-allowed, so it was just the two of them.
“Let’s go,” Nayna said at once when her grandmother complained of chest pains. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She texted Raj from the emergency room while her grandmother was being examined.
I’ll meet you, he immediately replied.
Wait—I’ll see what they say first. I might have to ask you to get my parents and bring them here. I don’t want them driving this late when they’ll be worried.
In the end, it turned out Aji just had a bad case of indigestion.
“All that wedding food,” her grandmother muttered as Nayna helped her into bed. “I’m going on a diet tomorrow. Can you tell Tawhiri I won’t be able to go for our morning walk?”
It took Nayna a minute to work out that Tawhiri must be Mr. Hohepa. “I will, don’t worry.”
“And your Raj?” Aji mumbled. “Did you tell him?”
“Yes, Aji.” She’d messaged him the instant they found out, then told him to get some sleep.
I’ll probably fall asleep on you if we meet now, she’d written.
His responding comment had been Raj-solemn. If you need me, call me. Whatever the time.
Nayna had stared at those words for a long time. What would it be like, to have Raj permanently at her back? The idea of it was breathtakingly tempting, but as Ísa worried about Sailor Bishop having time for her, Nayna worried what place she’d have in Raj’s life long term. She was a priority now, but what role would she have as the years moved on?
Nayna had been last on everyone’s priorities for a long time.
It hurt her heart to think of being delegated to the bottom of the heap by Raj.
“You’re overthinking things, Nayna,” she whispered. “You promised to give him a chance, so worry about the rest later.”
Since it was already four thirty and—thanks to Aji—Nayna knew Mr. Hohepa was usually up around five, she wandered into her room and took her time finally removing her wedding finery and makeup. She’d gotten a few interested looks in the ER from the walking wounded, but she hadn’t stuck out the most. That honor had gone to a man in a pink tutu, paper crown, and pink tank top, his black chest hair sticking out everywhere and a bloodied towel held up to his nose.
A bachelor party gone very bad.
The light came on in Mr. Hohepa’s kitchen. Time for her to play messenger for these two lovebirds. After she did the promised task—and convinced Mr. Hohepa that his obviously adored Heera was quite fine—she finally fell into bed. But she couldn’t sleep, was still awake at five thirty when her parents finally stumbled home.
“Shh,” her mother said with a giggle. “We’ll wake Nayna and Amma.”
Her father’s deeper tones answered with something unintelligible, but her mother giggled again before the master bedroom door shut.
“My parents are getting more sexing than I am. The universe is now openly mocking me,” Nayna muttered to the ceiling before tugging up her light summer-weight duvet and turning firmly onto her side.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she dreamed of kisses on the nape and big hands cupping her breasts… and a man she couldn’t reach no matter how painfully she stretched out her hands.
* * *
Christmas Eve morning was a late start for the entire Sharma family. Nayna had hoped to make her aborted rendezvous with Raj that night, but Madhuri came over with a Bollywood DVD and a hopeful look in her eyes and Nayna couldn’t say no—Madhuri was like Teflon; things usually just rolled off her, but this one hurt, it had stuck.
Christmas Eve was the anniversary of the day her husband had abandoned her in a strange mining town on the edge of nowhere, taking off in their car and with what little savings they had. I have to be with my sister tonight, she told Raj. It’s a bad time of year for her.
Understood, was the single-word response.
Nayna wasn’t sure if that meant exactly what it said or if he was annoyed or irritated. She decided on the former. Raj wasn’t the subtle or passive-aggressive type when it came to the words he’d written to her. He said what he meant and meant what he said.
Christmas Day also dawned quietly but quickly became busy. For the Sharmas, it was a day about family, and this year Nayna’s parents were hosting the annual barbeque for their relations. Even though everyone would turn up with salads, cakes, cooked dishes, and more, Nayna’s mother was convinced they had to prepare a million different things.
“Ma, no one will starve,” Nayna pointed out while frying the samosas. “You realize we’ll have leftovers for a month?”
“Silly girl. You know everyone wants to take leftovers away. We don’t want to be the stingy ones who never had any leftovers.”
“I wonder if Iosua will bring his trifle,” Nayna said. “I wouldn’t mind eating a great big bowl of that.”
“I told him to bring it,” Shilpa Sharma said while busily chopping up vegetables for a fancy salad. “Every time we have a party, I’m so happy your cousin married a dessert chef.”
Laughing, Nayna fished out the samosas and put in a fresh set to fry. Meanwhile, her father was outside making sure the grill was all set to go, and Madhuri was doing decorations. Aji sat at the kitchen table, mixing dough for a fried treat Nayna loved—basically sweet, cakey balls with raisins. She’d have no problem cooking those.
