Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
And this felt… important.
He got some plates out of the cupboard. “So I was surprised to see you out there. And not just because I didn’t give you my address.”
“Do you think I’m a stalker?”
His eyes flashed over his shoulder, and she couldn’t read his expression. “Are you?”
“No, my granmah—my grandmother… told me to come over here tonight.”
“Did she.” He pivoted back to the food. “Why?”
Lyric opened her mouth. Closed it. “She thought it was unfair to keep your coat.”
“So, do you like Lebanese food?”
Oh, that was right, she’d been so flustered, she hadn’t answered earlier. “Ah, actually, I’ve never had it before.”
“Come over and take a look at Mrs. Aoun’s best efforts. She’s appointed herself my honorary grandmother.” When she hesitated, he drawled, “I don’t bite, you know.”
Well, that makes one of us, she thought.
But she went over to him and— “Oh, wow. That smells amazing.”
Dev started to peel the saran wrap off of the serving dishes. “She told me what it all was, but I think I’m just going to call it delicious.”
“For sure.”
The next thing she knew, they were sitting across from each other at his little two-top, full plates in front of them, cutlery ready to do the duty, a pair of mismatched beers uncapped.
“Cheers,” he said as he lifted his bottle.
She did the same with the one he’d given her. “Cheers.”
She didn’t try the Michelob, but the food—which they’d sent for a couple of carousel rides around in his microwave—was warm and tasty and fragrant, and the silence was…
Not comfortable. Not at all.
Every move he made was like a fishing lure for her instinct to feed, and she told herself she was going to leave as soon as she was done eating. God knew, she was still going to be hungry—
“So your grandmother told you to come find me and give me back my jacket?” He wiped his mouth with a paper towel. “That’s a bold directive from an older woman, but maybe I underestimate the elder generation.”
“She’s dying,” Lyric blurted.
As his fork paused on the way to his mouth, she sat back in defeat. “Look, I can’t get even close to light and flirtatious tonight—”
“Who said I’m looking for that.” He followed through with his bite, and finished chewing before tacking on, “Although I got to be honest, I’m not looking for anything.”
“That’s okay.” She told herself this was good. Just a short fling. A one-night, something-sexual to take the edge off. “I’m not either.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” He shook his head slowly. “You definitely came here in search of something.”
As she flushed, he forked up some more of the absolutely gorgeous meat. “What’s happening with your grandmother?”
“Old age.” Lyric thought about falling asleep in that flowered bedroom, and had to wonder if it had been the last time. “She’s not ill in the disease sense—and that makes it harder in a way. She’s mentally still with us, but her body has just decided…”
“That it’s her time.”
“Yes.” She mostly kept the wobble out of her voice. “None of us want her to go, and I don’t think she’s ready, either. Whoa. Sorry, this is getting way too heavy—”
“Let me guess. She told you to come here and live a little while you can.”
Lyric searched his hard, compelling face. “Exactly.”
“Well.” He wiped his mouth again. “At the risk of overpromising, you’ve come to the right place. For a certain… kind of living.”
“Have I?” Lyric said in a husky way.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and then went lower, to the V of her flannel shirt. As his lids dropped down, she knew he was imagining her naked. Maybe on her back on his bed. Maybe as he hovered over her, in between her legs.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied in a deep voice. “Most definitely.”
* * *
Dev was very sure that the food was as good as the last three times Mrs. Aoun had forced dinner on him, but he couldn’t say he was tasting anything much. The woman across the table from him was his sole focus, and if there was a way to look past or through her, he wasn’t interested in knowing it.
After she left tonight? That was when he was going to start searching for ways to forget her—and hey, in a way, he was paying that graft forward. If they fucked? Then he’d get her out of his system easier. No problem.
And on her part? No doubt she just wanted to live a little on the wild side, the classic pretty, rich princess slumming it with a manual laborer storyline. Perfect compatibility right there.
Both of them were scratching itches, and neither was personal.
“So this was really good,” she deflected as she put her fork down and pushed her plate off a little.
“Glad it’s not just me.” He put his last bite in his mouth. “About the food, that is. Good to know.”