& Then They Wed (Ampersand Love #2)

13. A Proposal

13

A Proposal

Rian

R ian assumed that Aditi had changed her mind.

Considering that in the week since her offer to have a no-strings-attached fling with him, she had not brought it up again, it was natural for him to conclude that she had decided against it.

There had been plenty of opportunities for her to broach the subject because Rian, out of an uncontrollable compulsion to see her eat, had been finding one excuse after another to drag her out of the house at random hours of the evening to visit different eateries around Mumbai. Aditi had called it her personal food tour across his city, and maybe it was exactly that.

While the menu at his restaurant offered a range of gastronomical delights reminiscent of Mumbai and its spirit, somehow, sitting with her at a roadside eatery or inhaling seasonal treats from little known boutiques while they visited Mumbai’s landmarks made for an immersive experience unlike any other. He had never had the opportunity to share this in the past. He’d never wanted to before. With Aditi and her obvious delight every time he brought her to a new place and introduced her to new foods, he couldn’t imagine having done anything else.

He’d driven Nanamma and Aditi to Gateway of India that evening, treating them to a lavish dinner at the heritage hotel across from it, the Taj. They’d passed by Haji Ali on the way home, another famous tourist spot near which was a small mom-and-pop shop that served one of the best desserts in the city—a custard apple pudding that rivalled the leading ice creams in the country. Watching his grandmother laugh and enjoy the evening with them had put him in a good mood, any niggling doubt about the reason for his solicitousness towards Aditi brushed aside in light of Nanamma’s happiness.

Plus, he was being a good host, he told himself, unable to stop an indulgent smile from gracing his face when Aditi dug into another ice cold bowl of custard apple cream.

With Nanamma asleep and no longer available to shield him from the full force of Aditi’s pull, he hoped he could continue reminding himself of why he’d refused a date with her. Sitting out on his massive balcony, music playing on the speakers, the cool breeze a welcome relief from the heat of the day, he was hard pressed to recall when last he felt this level of attraction for a woman. Everything about Aditi made him want her to a degree that felt irrational and illogical. And nothing seemed to stop that need from growing.

He sat back, trying not to stare at her smacking her lips. The happy shoulder jiggle after each bite and the little noises she made with each lick of her spoon were as adorable as they were torturous.

This woman should never be separated from food, he decided right then. As long as he was around, he would keep her fed and fed well.

Aditi’s phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts.

As she read her incoming message, the bliss on her face from the sugar rush dimmed. Her lips thinned before she began to type furiously, sitting up with a low curse when there was the ping of an immediate response. Huffing, she laid her phone facedown and sat back, her eyes glazed over.

“All okay?” he asked, watching her chew on her spoon instead of eating her dessert. Startled, she glanced at him, as if only now remembering that he was still there. She nodded at first and then let out a beleaguered sigh.

“It’s nothing. Just my mother asking me if I liked anyone I’ve gone on a date with. Or if I’d given thought to Pratik.”

"Who's Pratik?"

"Some guy my family has picked. He’s perfect,” she spat, scrunching her nose in distaste. “Perfect face, perfect family, perfect height, perfect age, perfect citizenship, and. . .”

“Wait. Citizenship?”

She rolled her eyes.

“He’s an NRI so people think he lays golden eggs.” Rian snorted, but Aditi kept talking. “He’s my father’s best friend’s son. He’s also filthy rich. He’s the right caste, the right sub-caste, the right lineage. Even our astrological charts have a decent match. How do I say no?”

“He sounds like an asshole,” Rian muttered, feeling discomfited by how unnaturally flawless this new man seemed. “No one is that perfect.”

“I don’t want perfection,” she said, and the knot in the centre of his chest loosened. He watched quietly as she stood up, stomping over to the railing. “I don't want to move to a different country. People think I’m crazy to complain. I’d have a lavish life and would need to do nothing except be a good little wife.”

"Somehow, I don't see you as the do-nothing type."

Or be a good little anything. The woman was opinionated, mouthy, incredibly smart, and had the potential for destruction not unlike a Category 4 hurricane. She also had a fantastic ass and a body that should make men beg at her feet. But that was neither here nor there, he decided, irritated with his mind wandering where he’d not given it permission to.

"Exactly! I will go insane.” She spun on her heel, swaying her hips as she stalked back and forth between him and the glass railing, giving him a view of the perfect peach of her posterior, lush, delectable and encased in pyjama shorts, this time with cherry prints all over. If he wasn’t hungry before, he was certainly hungry now.

“I'd rather get married to someone I pick instead."

Right. He gulped, trying to settle the uncomfortable swirl of desire that seemed harder to ignore around Aditi each passing day.

She wanted marriage. And he was determined not to touch that time bomb with a hundred-foot pole. Besides, he’d promised Nanamma he’d treat Aditi with respect. That’s the only reason he hadn’t accepted her friends-with-benefits deal, he reminded himself, hard pressed to continue justifying it when she bit down on her lip. The urge for him to do the same thing spiked at the sight. He shook his head, stalking up to the railing, needing more air than he seemed to have while seated.

“Someone who lives here,” he heard her mutter under her breath, their shoulders just barely touching as they both stared at the distant lights flickering. “Someone I could be friends with.”

He nodded distractedly, uncorking the lid of his water bottle slowly, trying to calm his hormones because his dick certainly seemed to be a little too eager to make its presence known.

“Bugs?” She waited until he faced her. He took a sip, humming at her to continue. “Would you like to marry me?”

Rian choked on his water, spraying it right into her face.

Aditi jerked back, closing her eyes upon impact. Liquid droplets clung to her thick lashes and dripped down her cheeks in tiny rivulets. Her mouth tightened in irritation.

“I didn’t need a second shower today, but thanks.” She peevishly grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it up, involuntarily reducing the gap between them. Childishly, she wiped her face dry, leaving a dark, damp spot on his blue tee. He couldn’t even protest, his mind stuck, replaying her question over and over again.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he croaked, his throat still burning.

“What?” She tilted her head back to see him, finally registering his shock.

“Oh! Oh yes! Will you marry me?” She bounced on her feet like a happy little penguin who’d just successfully found a fish.

Was it crazy that her smile made him want to say yes? She had such a pretty smile, the kind which was reflected in her eyes. It made him want to do things that would keep her smiling at him. His eyes widened, determinedly pushing the thought away. His heart hammered in a furious rhythm, refusing to calm itself.

“Doc, I think the heat has gotten to you.”

Actually, the heat had gotten to him. He tried to run. He needed to run. His feet wouldn't move.

He stared down at the little woman who had thrown his world for a loop with a simple question, her eyes impossibly brown in the dim lights that illuminated her face. He felt like he was drowning in a pool of luscious cream and chocolate with no intention of saving himself. How the hell had she made him want to say yes?

“Bugs, listen!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on his arm. He should have worn long sleeves. Her bare skin touching his felt like he was being branded.

“I like you,” Aditi continued, looking at him earnestly. “Whatever I know of you, I really like. You’re a nice guy. And I’m a pretty nice girl. I think you could like me too. What do you say we make a go of it?”

“You're a nice girl and I'm a nice guy? That's your basis for marriage?”

She pursed her lips in a fishy pout, shrugging like she’d just asked him to share a bite of his food instead of his entire life .

Fuck, he needed a drink. And all he had was this goddamn water bottle. He lifted it high, chugging it down in a single breath, one eye still on the mad woman who had just proposed marriage to him.

"You’ve gone crazy. Good luck.” He turned, feeling like he would cave and do something stupid if he didn’t put some distance between them.

"Wait!” She tugged him back, one hand on her hip. “You're just going to leave? You're not going to offer to help?"

"Why should I?"

"Because we're friends."

"No, we are not!" he snapped, unable to keep calm.

"Oh my god, relax. What is with the overreaction, Bugs? It’s not like I said pyaar dosti hai .”

Rian pinched the bridge of his nose, head tilted heavenwards in a bid for grace. He took two breaths in, releasing it in short puffs before he spoke once more.

“You did not just quote Kuch Kuch Hota Hai to me,” he grumbled, his eyes closed, praying for strength.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it.” She giggled, his frustration only adding to her merriment. “But see? We get each other. Help me out, hmm?”

“I’m not going to help you by marrying you.” Yet , that annoying voice in his head added. Rian had to work hard at maintaining an unaffected visage. His mind and heart had not been so torn over a person since he’d caused an upheaval in his friend Kaya’s life. And that was thirteen years ago.

To face such a confusing array of feelings over a woman again made Rian wary of getting too close to Aditi. Not that he’d been the least bit successful in staying away from her either. It was as if she was a giant magnet and he wore an iron suit.

“Are you certain? I’d make a fun wife. And,” she snapped her finger, gesturing to herself, “you get free healthcare for life! ”

“I don’t plan to get pregnant so I don’t need a gynaecologist,” he sullenly argued. How was she so unbothered? She’d just issued a proposal. A PROPOSAL!

“Semantics,” Aditi waved, as if it was a trivial detail. “I can treat other things. Unofficially.”

“Then I hope you know how to unofficially treat an aneurysm because I think you might be giving me one.”

His glare told her that if she laughed, she would pay. Aditi had to physically wipe the mischievous smile off her face. Bothering Rian and seeing him get twisted up in knots had to be the best part of her day.

“Killjoy,” she needled him. “Help me in a different way then."

"How?"

“Find me a nice guy. Maybe you know people.”

“You’re mistaken. I don't own a marriage bureau.”

“No, you own a restaurant.” She rapped his chest, walking off towards the flowering plants that spilled over the baskets on the railing. She played with the fronds on one end, adjusting them until they lay prettily on the side. “I can bring my future dates there. You can observe, and coach me. Be my love guru.”

There were crickets. She turned to face him, his stupefaction telling her that he was on the verge of stomping off.

“You don’t believe I need help? I got anxious at one of my previous dates and had to go to the washroom. Guess how I excused myself.”

“How?”

Her cheeks turned a dull red, intriguing Rian.

“I waved at him and said ‘don't Barry, I’ll be back in a Flash.’”

Rian’s nostrils flared. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Because, you know,” she continued, taking a step towards him. “Flash is that DC comic character who super speeds everywhere?”

“Doc, stop.”

“And his real name is Barry Allen. ”

“Doc,” he groaned.

“And Barry sounds like hurry. . .”

“Quit explaining the joke,” he begged, his mirth clashing with fear for what this was leading towards.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” she said in a small voice, head low, kicking an invisible stone with one foot in an embarrassed move. “So, you see. I need help. And you can help me.”

“You don't see potential problems?” Her surety provided him no relief. This plan was insane. It was like the beginning of a bad romantic drama.

Aditi shrugged.

"Would be a problem if you were attracted to me. But you're not."

I'm not? Rian watched as she paced back and forth, the escaped curls from her top knot framing her sweet face, her lips pouting in annoyance, her skin pink and luscious. She crossed her legs and leaned back, her shorts revealing fleshy thighs that looked like they’d fit his large hands perfectly. Nothing bony or sharp about her.

His eyes tracked her well-rounded calves, down the line of her shin ending in dainty feet. She had cute toes, he couldn't help but think, seeing them curl inwards as they stepped closer to him, as if nervous.

"So, what do you think?"

His gaze swung up to hers. "Huh, what?"

With a sigh of an old woman, Aditi explained once more, "I was saying that you not being attracted to me makes it easier."

"Makes what easier?" he asked warily.

"Kissing, of course."