Chapter 23
Ten Weeks Later
DP directed the cab driver to stop at the end of Chaaru’s street, his pulse racing at the mere proximity to her.
For March, the day was exceptionally sunny even with little daylight left. He was exhausted after traveling for nearly twenty-six hours through several time zones, but desperate for a glimpse of her. He rubbed the contours of the small box poking out of his backpack, as if it were a talisman to keep him strong and ready for what lay ahead.
Tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, the cabbie stared at him through the rearview mirror.
“Just a few minutes please,” DP said, leaning forward in his seat and craning his neck.
It was a Sunday and while she couldn’t always avoid working on weekends, Chaaru tried her best to keep it open to spend with Kaasi. She cooked elaborate meals and invited Mona, him or Laura over, always eager to pamper her friends.
It was ridiculous to creep on her from the cab but ten weeks later, he just wanted one look at her, her soft smile, her pretty eyes. Of course, he could get down and simply knock on the door and take her in his arms. But his nerves weren’t prepared yet for what he planned to do. Scaling a mountain peak had nothing on this.
Minutes ticked by and the cabbie’s drumming got louder. Finally, the bright yellow door opened and a smartly dressed woman stepped out. A woman that wasn’t Chaaru. He barely took in her crisp pantsuit, the designer bag, and a shiny folio in her hand when a couple stepped out onto the porch with a little girl dangling between them.
DP frowned.
None of the faces were familiar to him. On further scrutiny, he realized the smartly dressed woman could be a real estate agent. Had Chaaru decided to sell her townhome? Why?
They’d exchanged a few texts and talked on the phone once while he’d been gone. He had kept their communications to minimum, in some ridiculous effort to forget her for a while, if not get over her. Turned out extra hard on him because there had been so many things he wanted to share with her. In the end, he’d realized that he had to put himself and his love on the line, he had to tell her that he wanted forever with her.
Even if it meant they would take it one week at a time.
But selling her home...why hadn’t she told him she was making such a big decision? And where would she live?
Had she met someone that had swept her off her feet?
The thought struck him hard, punching his breath out of him. No, that wasn’t possible. Their week together had meant something to her, she’d admitted that much. And if the impossible had happened, he’d have heard about it from Maggie, or Kaasi or Mona.
So what the hell was happening?
“Let’s go please,” he muttered to the driver, leaning back into the seat. He’d spent so much time during his trip imagining their reunion. Had been sleepless for a few days, wondering if he’d made a mistake by being gone for so long. Wondering if he should have demanded more than that week when they were still high on their connection.
But he’d needed to do this for himself. Needed to give her the distance to miss him, to recognize what they had, to make her see that their lives would be so much richer together.
* * *
TJ’s behemoth truck on the driveway brought hot tears to DP’s throat. As did the sight of the red-brick facade with a huge wraparound porch. The rattan rocking chair his dad used to sit in greeted him like an old friend.
Suddenly, he was immensely glad to have gone on an adventure and glad to return home. Only now did he realize how much he’d missed the familiar facade, the house and the sense of rootedness it had always given him. He’d missed his work and his friends. He’d missed his brother and sister and Chaaru. Not that she’d ever been far from his thoughts.
He paid the cabbie and lugged his heavy backpack up the sloping driveway. The main door was half open and he nudged it all the way. And nearly fell on his face when his leg hit a heavy cardboard box.
Rubbing his shin, he glared at the foyer which was full of…boxes. Stacked along the wall next to the mirror, on the floor, some half open, some scattered about, and taped with labels saying storage, donation, library and keepsakes. More stood against the opposite wall of the empty formal dining room.
The room looked expansive without the behemoth, ugly China cabinet and the heavy six-seater dining table he’d been meaning to get rid of for years. His head reeled and for a second, he wondered if he was dreaming.
Had TJ decided to clean out the junk they had amassed for over twenty years? It was the one thing DP had been lazy about. Maggie had even complained that it was ghoulish to have junk from their parents’ time—magazines and clothes and books and even a VCR—still lying around.
For a moment, DP wished he’d taken an extra couple of weeks. The last thing he needed was to deal with this mess. TJ was notoriously good at starting projects and leaving them for him to finish.
Sighing, he maneuvered his way through the maze of boxes and into the open kitchen. More boxes greeted him, pinching the last nerve of his exhaustion. “Christ, TJ! Who the hell said you’re allowed to upend my stuff when I’m not here? You don’t even live here anymore.”
When he finally looked past the horror of a bare wall shining with paint swatches, it was to find someone who wasn’t TJ staring at him with a horrified expression.
His heart gave a fierce kick in his chest.
Dressed in faded denim overall cut-offs that showed off her thick thighs, one strap hanging down to reveal a hot pink sports bra, Chaaru stood in the middle of his home. Between the ankle socks and the messy hair in a bun, sweat dewing her skin, she was a feverish, technicolor dream amidst the desert land of his life.
DP blinked and rubbed his eyes, but she was still there with a roll of duct tape in one hand and industrial-sized scissors in the other. Her lovely, lush mouth fell into an O, her eyes greedily sweeping over him.
He was suddenly aware of his thick beard that he hadn’t shaved in three weeks, the dry feel of the inside of his mouth, and the electricity running through his muscles, making a mockery of the exhaustion. Oh, and this…feverish need to fling himself over the granite island to take her down to the floor with him. Before she disappeared.
“Char?” he said, his brain unable to make any more words.
“Hey,” she said, licking her lower lip. As if afraid of spooking him, she put down the tape and scissors with extreme care. “TJ said you wouldn’t be back for two more weeks. Did I,” her trepidation hit him like a ton of bricks, “get that wrong?”
Why was she so wary of him?
He shook his head. “No, I did tell him that.”
She nodded. “So what happened?”
“I got tired.” Heat crept up his neck and filled his cheeks. Goddamn it, why was he so nervous? “I mean, the initial itinerary was good. The views and the trek and the camping, it was magnificent. I added on a few more weeks but the second group wasn’t to my liking. And the longer I stayed, the more I began to feel cut off.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “From?”
“From you all. I missed everyone.”
“We missed you,” she said in a soft whisper. Then, as if she’d said too much, she moved to the sink, filled the kettle and plugged it in.
There was a frenzy to her movements as she ducked into the refrigerator, pulled out eggs and beat them briskly into a cup. “I’ll have ginger chai and an omelet for you in five minutes. Do you want to lie down in the guest bedroom down here?”
DP licked his lips and dragged his gaze upward from the curve of her ass. His hands felt empty while his heart felt overwhelmingly full. “I’m not hungry. For food, at least.”
She met his gaze over her shoulder, letting him see the naked want there, even as she poured the eggs onto the pan. The sizzle of the pan matched his thrumming need to touch her and devour her. Thank God she still wanted him. He could work with that.
Without saying anything, she grated ginger into the boiling water on the stove, added tea leaves and a splash of milk, and spooned jaggery into waiting cups. He watched her, with infinite satisfaction, as she moved around his kitchen as if she belonged there.
God, how perfectly she belonged there.
With brisk efficiency that came of her work, she scraped cheese onto the omelet, folded it up the way he liked and turned off the stove.
He could feel the tension he’d carried ever since he’d landed siphoning out of him, leaving excitement behind. His heart thumped dangerously fast.
“What’s wrong with my bedroom?” he said, staying on this side of the large island.
Let her come to you, he warned himself. She’s here in your home, for whatever reason.
Her expression turned sheepish as she poured the steaming chai into mugs. “The bed’s gone.”
“What the hell did TJ do? Why’s everything upside down?”
When her hand shook passing him the tea, DP realized how short he sounded. He rubbed a hand over his face and took a fortifying sip of the chai. His insides settled, and he took a few more sips before saying, “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”
“It kind of is,” she said, walking into the living room. She rubbed her hands over her thighs, and he noted a streak of dust on her cheek.
His stomach clenched as she stopped just out of reach, almost as if she was afraid of what he might do. With her presence overwhelming him in the best way possible, he had to backtrack to what she said.
“How is this your fault?” he said, moving his arm around.
“I was planning for it to be a surprise.”
“What…what do you mean? Wait,” he said, panic and hope twisting him painfully. “I saw someone that looked like a real estate agent at your house and a couple was touring, I think. What’s going on?”
“You stopped by my house first?”
He shrugged, flushing.
“DP, why did you stop by my house?”
“Why do you think?” he said, losing patience. “I wanted to see you. I was dying to see you.”
“So you wouldn’t be against it if I kissed you? Because I missed you and I’m shit scared right now and I really, really, want to touch you and hold you and tell myself that it’s okay.”
Tears filled his eyes and he blinked them back. “I’ve been traveling for twenty-six hours. But I did brush my teeth and changed my undershirt-”
She came at him, like lightning flashing across the sky, making the teacup fly from his hand. Her lips on his stole his words, his breath, his heart. He stumbled as the full force of her smashed into him, but she didn’t let go.
Her kiss said everything he was desperate to say. She tasted like strawberries and coffee and it was the most delicious thing he’d known in months. He filled his hands with her ass, her back, trembling from head to toe that he was touching her.
Joy and happiness and gratitude and love drenched him in thick rivulets when she trailed kisses across his jaw and temple and even the tip of his nose, her breath as erratic as his.
Pulling her along, he shuffled them towards the large sectional which thankfully, was intact. He fell backward and she fell half on top of him and half on the couch, her mouth still attached to his face. With a grunt, he lifted her until she was in his lap, sitting sideways. And finally, finally, the furor in his heart calmed.
The jasmine scent from her skin filled his lungs and he breathed it in like an addict.
“Now tell me what’s going on here,” he demanded, nipping her lower lip.
With a stifled cry, she hid her face in his chest and burrowed into him.
He ran his hands over her thighs, knees, hips, loving the feel of her. God, he’d missed her so much. And now, to have her in his home, in his lap, her heart thundering against his, it was all he wanted. And he would do anything to keep her here.
“Char?” he said, stroking his fingers through her hair, which was now cascading against her shoulders. Burying his face in the bounty, he breathed in deeply.
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. They flicked between his, and she shivered. “I took this huge, big step.” Her breath shuddered out in a rush. “In the last few weeks, I’ve had these alternating moments where it felt exactly right and yet horrifyingly scary.”
“Is something wrong with the business? Kaasi?” he said, heart racing. “Whatever went wrong, sweetheart, we’ll fix it together. I’m back and you aren’t alone.”
She rubbed her mouth against the underside of his jaw. “God, DP. What if…”
“What?” he said, his hands tightening on her.
“I... all this…” she said throwing a hand toward the mess in the living room, “it was my idea. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You decided to clear out twenty years of junk as a present to me?”
“As a big gesture, yeah.”
His breath hovered out of reach as his stupid heart jumped to conclusions. “What do you mean?”
“I have selfish reasons to clear out the house and get rid of the junk and…” she wriggled in his arms and when he wouldn’t let go, sighed. “Let me go.”
“Why?”
“Because this is serious and I need to brace myself for your reaction.”
“Char…”
“Please, DP.”
He let her go, reluctantly, but kept her close. There was no way she was leaving him now. She ended up lying prostrate on the couch, her eyes wide in her face.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I wanted to make a little space for myself.” She colored. “Not little, actually. I need a lot.”
“I have no idea what you’re saying, Char. But you better start talking about who I saw at your house,” he said, keeping his fingers wrapped around her ankle. He didn’t even care if she thought them shackles. Didn’t care that his grip was rough, and he sounded like a possessive madman.
Her gaze lingered on his grip and a tremulous smile peeked. “That was a real estate agent you saw. I asked her to find renters.”
His stomach sank like there was a lead weight in it. “Are you moving?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, then cursed. “I don’t mean to sound like an arrogant jackass.”
She rubbed her foot over his palm, grinning. “You’re allowed to sound however you want with me, DP. That house is as much yours as it is mine.”
“Jesus, Char. Take some pity on me. What’s going on?”
She pushed up and brought his hand to her lap. “Initially, I thought of selling the townhome. It’s a sellers’ market and there’s such low inventory that I could make a nice chunk despite the mortgage. But I didn’t want to make that move without talking to you. I remembered that you said how hard it was to buy a home in the current economy. I mean, I guess I could have talked to Dom and…”
He bit back a smile at how fast she was talking.
She kissed his fingers, which calmed his racing heart just a bit. Then leveled a penetrating look that peeled layers off him, to his very soul. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and so much emotion. “Which is kind of a lie because the idea of selling it terrified me, to be honest. And I know you will think it reflects on my trust in you but really, it’s not. It’s the fear in me.”
DP’s head reeled. Nothing made sense. Except that she was renting her place and cleaning out his and claimed it was borne out of selfishness. “Char…sweetheart,” he said, gentling his voice, “why are you renting out the townhome? It’s a part of you.”
“Because I…” Her breath hitched and tears dripped down her dusty cheeks. “It is a part of me. It represents so much to me but not more than you. I wanted to show you my commitment to you and me, to us . Selling it would have been the grand gesture because I would literally have nowhere else to go but…I got scared.”
DP thought his heart might have splintered into a thousand pieces then. But he also knew that she would put it back together with her own hands. Shiny and better than before, the way the Japanese mended broken pottery by adding threads of gold or silver. “Are you saying you want to move in with me? Is that why you’re clearing out all this shit?”
“There’s so much junk, DP,” she said with that practicality he adored. “It’s literally shrunk the size of the house.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Yes. I was going to clear it out, paint the bedroom, and get a new bed in there. A king bed and claim it as my gift to you. But of course, it would be for me because there’s no way you and I can sleep comfortably on a queen bed.”
His heart thundered as if it had been injected with a dose of adrenalin, his brain incapable of forming a reply.
“You, sir, have the annoying habit of crowding me. And with menopause not too far behind, who knows what kind of fresh hell is waiting for me?”
He felt shaky like a newborn calf, a boulder sized lump in his throat. He was terrified to move or speak too loud for fear of discovering that he was on the damned plane and dreaming again. “What else do you need?”
“Your heart,” she said, holding his gaze.
“It’s yours, Char.” It came out a croaky whisper, but he couldn’t help it. “It’s been yours since that first evening at the bar.”
When he’d have moved closer, she held him off. “So you’re not angry with me?”
“Why would I be angry?”
“You don’t like change. And I made a big decision without consulting you. I pretty much moved into your home, DP.”
“Why did you?” he demanded, kneading the arch of her foot.
“Two minutes before you told me about this trip…I realized I wanted to share my life with you. Kaasi interrupted us, but already, it was growing. Here,” she said, rubbing her chest. “I knew everything was changing but there was that last thread of fear holding me back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have left,” he said, knowing the answer already.
“You were so excited. I could never stand in your way. You deserved better than me trying to hold onto you out of fear. I decided to wait you out. Compete with mountains even.”
“Because you love me?” he said, pushing her leg away and crawling on the sectional towards her. Suddenly, he was very glad he’d spent thousands extra on the biggest piece. It was big enough for him and his beautiful, sexy woman.
She slid down on the couch and his knees straddled her hips and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her chest rose and fell as she clasped his cheek. “Because I love you, DP. I’m scared of messing it up, but I want this with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to learn to love you as you should be loved. I might stutter a bit there, just so you know.”
“Snow peaked mountains have nothing on you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice turning guttural.
“So you want this then?”
“Want this?” he said, shaking. Somehow, he managed to find her mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet and zoomed through his body like a rocket, leaving fireworks behind. “Do you know why I stopped at your house?”
“Why?”
“I have a ring.”
“Oh,” she said, but couldn’t hide the shiver that wracked her.
“I know that you’re sour on the whole marriage thing but I want to marry you, Char. I want a big wedding. I want a fun, drinking reception. I want a wedding night with my new bride. I want to take you on a honeymoon and redo this entire house and give you every luxury I can. I want to grow old with you and then tell my friends bad jokes about the missus.”
More tears leaked out of her eyes, wetting the couch.
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “But sweetheart, I can also wait for as long as it takes for you to be ready. Even if it’s thirty years from now and we’ve turned into prunes together…because this, being with you, is all I need.”
She laughed then and he smiled and kissed her. “All this you’ve done…it’s more than I expected.” Slowly, he let his weight drop on her and she made a cradle of her thighs and they groaned when his engorged cock pressed into her core. “I know what it must have taken you to take this step toward me. And I knew that when…” now it was he who was crying, “when you recognized this bond between us, you would love me like no one else could.”
Her sniffles turned into sobs then turned into laughter when he tickled her. When she came up for breath and looked at him, her eyes shone with utter devotion he’d craved to see for so long. “I do love you, Deepak Pratap Chopra, with all my heart.”
He groaned and in punishment for her using his name that he’d never liked and had always been mistaken for a certain celebrity, he snuck his fingers under her bra and pinched her nipple. She arched into his touch with a guttural groan. “Just for that, I’m going to insist that you take my last name.”
Her eyes widened and he wondered if he had pushed her too far too soon. Not that he gave a damn whose name she took. “Chaaru Chopra,” she said, giggling. “You know that sounds like the name of a badass spy. I like it.”
“I was joking,” DP said, heart in his throat.
“I’m not,” she said, her lips an inch from his. “I want to be yours, DP, like I’ve never been anyone else’s before. Because I know that with you, I can love myself more than I ever have before.”
Then they were kissing and there was no stopping them. The kiss heated and they laughed as they dry-humped each other, all the while making plans for a future.
A future that began with them fighting over the paint color for the bedroom and his CD collection. A future that stretched out in front of them like a colorful quilt made of years of sweet memories and even some tears.
And DP knew that his life would never be empty again.
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