Chapter 2
2
T he dark red leather seats, the private booth tucked away from other tables, the dim lighting and the exquisitely cooked food…everything about the elegant French bistro was perfect for DP’s third date with Pooja, a beautiful, witty environmental lawyer.
But the minute she excused herself to go to the restroom, doubts poured in.
Should they be talking more and touching less? Should he show more interest in her career, her friends, share more about his own family and hobbies?
He recalled the interesting tidbits his brother TJ, while smirking at DP, had helped him come up with and realized he’d already run through all of them.
Damn, dating was hard. A night of sweaty sex with a friend-with-benefits once every few months was more the norm for DP. That’s all life had allotted him for his twenties and most of his thirties.
When he told potential romantic partners that he was the guardian for his much younger brother and sister, most women dropped him. And whoever remained simply wanted no-holds barred sex.
But that had changed in the last few years.
First, TJ had started his own personal trainer business with two friends. Then his sister Maggie, seventeen years younger than him, had moved out of state for college. She’d flown the nest, all the way to sunny California from rainy Seattle, leaving an unnerving emptiness behind.
He’d barely made peace with it when a new milestone had barreled into him—turning forty.
It had taken Chaaru prodding him to discover he was ready to date. As cringeworthy as his initial efforts had been—all the swiping and sexting were beyond him—he’d continued because he wanted to share his life with someone.
Then Chaaru had introduced him to Pooja.
The best part was that Pooja, at thirty-five, had made it clear she didn’t want kids, was happy to split finances, and wanted a man who understood that she had a full life with hobbies and friends.
All more than welcome to him, given his own passion for mountain climbing and his need for solitude.
When they’d kissed at the end of the first date, it had been awkward, wet and a little like kissing his great aunt Sheela with her overly greased lips. Later, as they’d grown more comfortable with each other, their kisses had gotten sweet and hot. Nothing earth-shattering but a solid foundation he was happy to work with.
Today, her tongue sweeping through his mouth had even got his cock’s attention.
So if he liked the woman, and they had chemistry, and he could sort of imagine a vague, blurry future with her, why did he feel so much anticipatory restlessness instead of enjoying the moment?
“You haven’t touched dessert,” Pooja said, settling into the leather seat and cozying up to him. Close enough that DP could feel her thigh flushed pleasantly against his.
“Sorry,” he said, cheeks burning. “I have this habit of…”
“Wool-gathering, I know.” She scooped a bit of the chocolate mousse they’d ordered with her spoon and brought it to his mouth. “Honestly, it’s refreshing to be with a man who doesn’t love the sound of his own voice.”
He laughed, the chocolate melting on his tongue. God, it was decadent and rich, just like Chaaru loved it. Maybe he could drop off a piece for her on the way home and…
“You have a little here,” Pooja said, and swiped the tip of her tongue over his lip.
A thrill ran down his spine. He sat up straight and ran his knuckles over her jaw.
With a soft groan, she crowded closer and sought his lips. She tasted sweet and soft. Her breasts rubbed his arm and arousal hummed through him. Even as a parallel train of thoughts intruded.
Was it okay to invite her to his home for sex on a third date? Or was he supposed to wait for her to ask? Would she want to stay at his house tomorrow morning if things went well? Would he have to ask her to stay for breakfast and have more conversation?
Christ, how did people do this over and over?
No wonder Chaaru was so decidedly against dating. He could see this being a thousand times harder for a single mom in her forties.
“Going off somewhere in your head when I’m kissing you can be seen as a lack of interest,” Pooja said, pouting.
“No, I like kissing you and I want to do a lot more,” he said, nipping her lower lip in a not-so-gentle bite. “Which is why I’m trying to put the brakes on. I have no clue when it’s okay to show my interest. My brother TJ messed my head up with too many made-up rules.”
She laughed against his mouth and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his chin. “You’re adorable.”
He grinned, some of his anxiety abating. “Glad you think so.”
“Ask me, DP.”
“Do you want to go home with me, Pooja?” he said, as she continued to run her mouth down his jaw. “So that we can fuck, eat ice cream after, and watch bad stand-up comedy in blissful silence?”
“You remembered what constitutes my best date,” she said, eyes widening. “Wow, a man who actually pays attention.”
“So, yes to all that?”
“Yes, please,” she said, giggling. “My apartment okay?”
Taking her home and having reasonably good sex—that he could do. DP nodded just as his cellphone rang. The name flashing on the screen had him checking his watch with a frown. Swiping it on, he said, “Is everything okay, Char?”
He shot to his feet as Chaaru related the most bizarre incident with her lover.
“Wait, is he there? Are you safe? Should I call the cops?”
“I’m fine, DP. Just stuck here. The idiot didn’t take it well that I dumped him.”
That surge of protectiveness he always felt toward her engulfed him. “Where do you meet these losers anyway? What kind of man can’t take being dumped with a little grace?”
“Less judgement and more will you be able to come, please,” Chaaru said, cutting into his lecture with a sharpness she rarely used against him. Then she sighed. “Sorry, DP. It’s been a long day. You’re the last person I should take it out on.”
“I won’t crumble, Char,” he said, tenderness he couldn’t hide creeping into his tone.
“See? You’re a real man and I keep expecting these whiny wieners to be like you.” Another sigh. “You’ve spoiled me for any other man.”
The thought, mocking as it was, stunned him into silence. He stole a glance at Pooja. She was standing by the booth, her body language screaming impatience.
“DP?” Chaaru said, her voice tentative now.
“I’m here,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
Outside, orange and pink splashes of dusk fought with the relentless November drizzle. The result was a rainbow-ish twilight, as if the world couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be.
It matched how he felt inside at her words, like his emotions were a splashy rainbow themselves.
“I’m okay to wait a couple of hours if you want to finish your date, DP,” Chaaru said.
“No!” His refusal was instant, instinctive.
Not that he could tell her that even if he took Pooja home, he would be thinking of her hand-cuffed and alone in that buffoon’s apartment. He would be thinking of her even if he and Pooja had sex. And that felt…both wrong and right in ways he didn’t want to plumb.
“Please, listen to me. I’m not in a hurry to return home,” Chaaru said, her tone pleading. “I don’t want to ruin your date. I’ll catch a nap and you can wake me up like my very own knight in shining armor,” she said, her laugh turning husky.
DP knew she was trying to make up for being sharp earlier but her words drew such a vivid image that his body responded immediately. As if her voice had a direct line to his cock. He rubbed a hand over his face, wondering if he was going mad. “No, I’ll leave immediately. Should I bring my tools with me?”
“No. The asshole painter dropped the key in his desk drawer right in front of me.”
“Text me his address,” DP said, struggling with his own temper now. The faster he got her out of there, the better he would feel. “Would you prefer I keep talking to you while I drive? Or maybe we should keep your phone free to call the cops if he returns?”
“He’s harmless, DP.”
Whatever his feelings about her love life, he did trust her judgement. “Okay, yeah. Hang tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up, feeling as tangled as he always did around her.
Any interaction with Chaaru these days reminded him of the rollercoaster ride with his sister and brother that one time.
He hated the damn thing but Maggie had insisted that she’d go only if he did. And because he didn’t want his little sister to grow up scared of a little risk, he’d given in. The flimsy car had jostled him from side to side and he’d screamed at the top of his lungs during the dizzying drops. But it was the slow, unending climb to the drop that had tied his stomach in tight knots.
Of late, that’s how his relationship with Chaaru felt like, the lines between them beginning to blur.
“DP?”
At the wary tone, he turned to find Pooja staring at him with pursed lips. For just a second, he felt that discombobulation when returning to reality after anything Chaaru-related. It was like coming back from a dream world to hard, colorless reality.
And then he felt awful for calling this lovely woman colorless reality.
“What did Chaaru want?” Pooja said.
He cleared his throat, eager to deflect the sudden awkwardness between them. No, not awkwardness, but anger.
Pooja was angry, and had every right to be. Damn it, why hadn’t he taken the call out of her earshot? “She’s caught in a delicate situation and needs rescuing.”
Pooja shot to her feet, her moments jerky as she collected her coat and purse. “Chaaru’s in a delicate situation and you go running. Of course.”
His heart pounded and his palms felt clammy at her confrontational tone. “What…what do you mean by that?”
Snapping her purse open, she left a huge tip on top of the bill. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, though. “Nothing.”
He reached for her arm gently. “Please…don’t walk away angry. Chaaru would never interrupt us if it wasn’t an emergency. I mean, she was the one who convinced me to give this a…” He stopped, knowing he’d once again stepped into a dating landmine.
Shaking her head, Pooja sighed. “Sorry for snapping at you. I guess I don’t like to be cock-blocked.” She laughed, as if to take the bite out of her words.
“I could come to your apartment after I…retrieve Chaaru. If you’re still interested, that is. Or we could do this some other time. I’m enjoying getting to know you and-”
“No. The moment’s gone.”
“I’m sorry, Pooja.”
“No, don’t be. You can’t help being in love with her, can you?”
Even though she said the words softly, DP felt as if she’d slapped him. It shouldn’t be a shock to hear it in such bare words, but it was.
He collected his wallet and his phone, checked his coat for his car keys, all the while searching for something to say without further offending her. “It doesn’t mean-”
“You know what the most painful thing is?” Pooja said, cutting him off. “Chaaru was absolutely right. You’re one of the best guys I’ve ever met and you’re…perfect for me. But you’re taken, aren’t you?”
“I’m not,” DP said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “She’s not interested in me. If you could just put aside that she interrupted us, you’ll see that I’m giving this my all. I like you very much, Pooja. And I don’t give a damn if it’s not the in thing to say it.”
She smiled then, and it was full of both regret and gratitude. “Do other women you date a favor, DP. Either get over her or stop letting her set you up. It’s cruel to raise a woman’s hope like this.”
“Even if there’s no chance of Chaaru and me ever going there?” he asked, genuinely conflicted.
After her disastrous, near-abusive, decade long marriage to one of his ex-best friends, Chaaru loathed the idea of love and commitment from the very depths of her soul. Having witnessed some aspects of the abusive control her ex had wielded, DP couldn’t even blame her.
And he, at forty, wanted all those sticky things she didn’t.
Chaaru chased excitement with pretty fuck-bois who didn’t even deliver while he wanted to settle down to domestic bliss. With her.
Every day, every month, every year that went by, he wondered if his wishes would change. If he could just have an affair with her and walk away without heartache. If he could have a little of her and survive the having.
But that moment never came and he’d gotten used to being in love with her. Like his slightly curly hair, his fondness for Vietnamese food, his high aptitude for numbers, loving Chaaru was just a fact of life.
“Would you be able to play third wheel if Chaaru falls in love with some man tomorrow?” Pooja demanded, not unkindly. “Would you be able to stay in her life then?”
The idea made his stomach twist into such painful knots that he couldn’t even form words around it. Sighing, she kissed his cheek and walked away. His gut churned.
How long was he going to cling to the margins of Chaaru’s life when he wanted so much more?