Chapter 9 #2
A strand of her dark hair lifted in the breeze, sending a whiff of her shampoo—but thankfully no perfume—into my lungs on my next inhale.
Acutely aware of every move she made, I guided her club through the swing.
My concentration suffered because of the warmth of her radiating into me as I helped her through the rotation.
My entire body was suddenly filled with electricity.
Even breathing didn’t come naturally anymore with the soft curve of her hips under my palms when I showed her how to move.
Seconds away from embarrassing myself even more than I already had, I finally took a couple steps away and swept a hand out toward the range.
“Okay. Try that.”
Deja paused a beat before she inhaled a deep breath, turned, and swung. This time, the ball lifted cleanly into the air, traveling forward instead of sideways this time. While no professional golfer would’ve thought it was a great shot, that didn’t matter.
Genuine, surprised laughter tumbled out of her as she watched the ball soar across the range. She set down her club and lifted her fists into the air. “I did it!”
“You really did.”
“Did you see that?” she asked excitedly. “I hit it.”
She broke into a celebratory dance that lasted longer than the shot deserved, but I didn’t care.
Watching her move and actually have fun was way better than anything else happening on the range.
Although the way those hips could roll wasn’t something I could allow myself to think about too much right now.
Eventually, we headed out onto the course and I realized then that she truly had almost no interest in golf itself. She loved the golf cart, though, far more interested in testing its limits than playing the game.
By the fourth hole, I’d accepted I would be playing alone while she drove, apparently determined to find out whether the club enforced speed limits. I chuckled when I climbed in again, turning to face her and loving the wide grin on her lips.
“You’ve never driven one of these before?” I asked.
She thought it over for a beat before she shook her head. “I’ve been in many, but never behind the wheel. They’re so much fun, though. I’m definitely getting one for the estate when I get back to Cairo.”
“The estate?”
“It’s where we live,” she explained vaguely, already testing the acceleration again as we shot forward toward the next hole. “It’s a gated community. Some even refer to it as the Saad Manor, but it’s not that stuffy and we’re not the only ones who live there.”
While I played the next few holes, we chatted on and off about everything and nothing, but when we eventually reached the ninth hole, I realized I was over golf for the day. I wasn’t paying much attention to the game anymore either and Deja certainly didn’t care.
“Let’s go grab some lunch,” I said when I climbed back into the cart. “There’s a diner a few blocks away that’s even better than the clubhouse.”
It also has less prying eyes, but I didn’t add that part.
She turned toward me, surprisingly not pulling away immediately. “That was only nine holes. Are you sure you’re done? I don’t mind if you want to go the full eighteen. We might need to recharge this cart battery, though.”
“Nah, I’m craving a burger and I’m sure you’re getting hungry too.”
She shrugged. “I would’ve survived, but I’ll never say no to food.”
With that, she finally punched her foot down on the accelerator again and sped us back to the clubhouse faster than I’d ever gotten there before. After returning the cart, I drove us to the nearby diner. The booths were showing decades of wear, but the food truly excellent.
“Wow.” Deja pulled off her cap and sunglasses as we walked in. Her eyes sparkled as she looked around, and I led her to a booth beside the window. “This looks like a real American diner.”
I frowned. “That could be because it is a real American diner. Is it your first time?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “We haven’t eaten out much since we’ve been here. Gabrielle is an excellent cook and she loves it, but because she lives alone, she doesn’t get much opportunity to cook the way she likes.”
“So she makes enough food to feed an army at every meal while you’re here?” I guessed.
Deja nodded, immediately opting for the French toast when a menu was snapped down in front of her. “Oh, I’d like to try that.”
“It’s usually a breakfast dish,” I warned before I ordered my burger. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Definitely.” She grinned at me from across the table, so happy that the sight was just about blinding. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“You never have?”
“No. I’ve had the option to, obviously. I’ve just never pulled the trigger. Today seems like a good day for trying new things. Let’s hope the French toast is better than my golfing.”
We laughed, and before we knew it, the food arrived.
After the first bite, her eyes widened and she hummed out a moan, her eyes even sliding shut. Naturally, my entire body tensed at the sound, but I inhaled a deep breath and commanded myself to calm the fuck down.
“This is so familiar,” she said after she’d swallowed. “It tastes like a sweet dish from back home, Om Ali. I mean, it’s different, but similar.”
“Different how?” I asked, then ate my burger while she explained that their version of the dish was dipped in sweetened milk flavored with spices rather than egg.
After that, our conversation drifted naturally toward me learning more about Egypt. “I’ve never been, but I’ve always been fascinated by the history and the culture.”
Deja turned out to be an amazing storyteller, but I’d also never met anyone who spoke about their home the way she did. It immediately became clear that she loved her country with every fiber of her being as she told me about the cities, the markets, the history, and the Nile.
“You should come visit sometime,” she said, so casually that it caught me off-guard.
My eyebrows shot up. “You want me to come visit you in Egypt?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled. “I’ll show you everything there is to see and then some. You’ll love it.”
“Then I’ll come,” I said.
She started talking again and I just leaned back and listened.
Sitting here with her, I forgot all about the shitty week I’d had and all the pressure I was facing at work and on the family front.
Instead, it felt like I was planning a trip with her, already getting excited to visit the places she’d mentioned and to explore the country that seemed to be part of her soul.
When we were finally done eating, Deja rested her chin on her hand and smiled at me across the table. “What should we do now?”
I blinked at her, trying to remember the last time I’d spent a whole Saturday away from work. In my entire adult life, I wasn’t sure I’d ever not gone into the office on a weekend, but I didn’t even want to think about that right now.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time at Gabrielle’s house since you’ve been here. Is there anything you’d particularly like to see before you go home?”
Those golden eyes lit up and she leaned across the table, holding my gaze so intently that my mouth practically dried up. “Sure. There’s just one more thing I need to see.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Everything.”