Chapter 31
COLIN
The first thing Salima Saad did after I met her was grab me by the earlobe. She pinched my ear between surprisingly strong fingers, clicked her tongue, and marched me through the house while muttering under her breath in rapid-fire Arabic.
I glanced at Deja, but she just winced and followed behind us. “Good luck.”
“That’s not a translation,” I murmured in a stage-whisper, doing my best to keep up with the old woman.
Unfortunately, she must’ve heard me because she paused briefly and pointed a slightly crooked finger at me. “You’re too thin. You look sick. Also tired. Why do you look so tired?”
Deja giggled. “Dad has been keeping him busy, showing him off to his friends like a new puppy.”
Nanna sent a piercing glare over my shoulder, presumably at Basel, but then continued our march-drag to the kitchen. She deposited me at an old wooden table, pointing for me to sit before placing a steaming bowl of food in front of me.
“Eat.” She folded her arms, leaning against the table and watching until I picked up my spoon.
I didn’t even know what the fragrant, stew-type dish was, but I dipped the spoon into it and ate.
Nanna made a content sound before finally turning away from me and heading back to the stove.
The rest of the family had caught up at this point, and with as much authority as a tiny, eighty-year-old woman could muster—which was a lot in her case—she sat them down at the table too and started handing out more food.
While they got settled, I took a minute to try and get my bearings, but honestly, the house itself made no sense to me. From the outside, it was a sleek beachfront villa overlooking the Red Sea, but the interior was a different story altogether.
It almost felt like every generation had simply built another room whenever they’d needed one. Hallways narrowed before opening into airy courtyards while old stone gave way to polished marble which in turn gave away to wood.
This kitchen looked like it’d been built sixty years ago and lovingly preserved ever since but never modernized. The cupboards were worn and the stone floor was uneven, but it was warm and comfortable, clearly a very lived-in room.
Once the others were seated and had been served, Nanna looked back up at me, her black eyes alive with amusement but her features somehow still stern.
At first glance, she could’ve passed as any older woman we’d passed on the streets between the airport and the house, her skin wrinkled and her frame small but strong.
However, the more I looked at her, the more I could see why Khaled, Deja, and Jasmine had spoken about her the way they had. It was clear that they respected the hell out of her, but it was also fast becoming evident why.
She took no prisoners, treating even Basel like a five-year-old. When I made the fatal mistake of setting my spoon down halfway through my first bowl, she slapped the back of my hand and pointed at the bowl. “You’re not done.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I picked the spoon back up, holding it while I took the sip of water I’d wanted, and then digging right back in.
She seemed satisfied, but five minutes later, after she’d taken my empty bowl, another equally full one materialized in front of me, and once again, she waited until I picked up my spoon. I looked around, but every Saad man appeared accustomed to this treatment.
Rami caught my eye and offered an encouraging thumbs-up before returning to his own lunch. Nanna barked something in Arabic when Tarek tried pushing his bowl away, but her tone was different with the women, sweet and gentle.
She hugged them and let them pause to breathe through the meal, but the men seemed to be expected to keep eating. The food was incredible, but when she turned away, I set my spoon down again, so full that I felt like I was about to pop.
Immediately, she reached behind her and swatted my hand again, looking at me over her shoulder and motioning for me to keep eating. Deja finally stepped in when I felt myself starting to sweat, arguing with her grandmother in Arabic.
Nanna waved a wooden spoon as Deja confronted her, pointing at me. Her hands joined the chat, both of them quickly becoming animated as it became obvious that Deja was attempting to rescue me.
Jasmine quietly translated under her breath. “Nanna thinks you’re way too skinny and Deja says to leave you alone because you’re healthy, but Nanna thinks it’s just because nobody loves you enough to feed you properly.”
I winced. “Damn, Nanna. That’s harsh.”
Jasmine flashed me a sweet smile. “In that case, I won’t tell you the rest because it gets worse.”
As they argued, Nanna narrowed her eyes but then suddenly let out a sigh. Deja smiled victoriously as she turned toward me. “Would you look at that? I won.”
“What’s the prize?” I asked, not really sure I wanted an answer, but Nanna took my arm and hauled me up again.
“A tour,” Deja said as Nanna marched me out of the kitchen.
Together, the three of us headed back into the maze that was the house, but when we emerged into the back garden, I was once again surprised. It wasn’t really a garden at all, more like a collection of gardens stitched together by winding stone paths and shaded patios overlooking the Red Sea.
Palm trees swayed and roses climbed over whitewashed walls. Citrus trees stood beside beds overflowing with vegetables and herbs. I blinked rapidly as Nanna showed me around, clearly proud, but rightfully so.
It was incredible out here. Truly impressive.
She kept her arm hooked around mine as she led us from one area to another, snapping a sprig of mint from one planter and shoving it under my nose. When I inhaled obediently, she nodded, moving along to basil, rosemary, and thyme.
A sprig of each was pinched off and presented to me to smell, taste, or rub between my fingers. She even gave me a tomato to try. The juice hit my tongue and my eyes widened at the burst of flavor. She seemed incredibly pleased.
Deja wandered alongside us, laughing every time her grandmother thrust another vegetable into my hands. “I think she likes you.”
“This is liking?”
“She wouldn’t be feeding you at all otherwise.”
Nanna suddenly stopped beside an enormous bed of flowers, hundreds of white blossoms that she gestured toward. Knowing at this point what was expected of me, I started bending over to smell them, but Deja’s smile vanished.
“Nanna, no,” she said quickly. “He’s?—”
The warning came a second too late. I’d already gotten too close, and as soon as the beautiful, familiar fragrance hit my nostrils, I sneezed three times in rapid, violent succession.
Nanna recoiled like I’d insulted her, launching into another stream of Arabic as she pointed an accusing finger at me.
Deja intervened immediately, but while I’d been picking up some common Arabic and could understand and speak a few basic phrases, I couldn’t make out anything they were saying. It was all a little overwhelming, but not in a bad way.
It was just a lot, being carted from offices and factories in Cairo, to parties, dinners, and events, and then being thrust into their family’s inner circle with Nanna. It really had been a crazy ride so far, but I was enjoying it.
After the two of them had gone back and forth for few full minutes, Nanna finally huffed and disappeared back into the house. Deja waited until her grandmother was safely inside before collapsing into the chair under a shaded pergola draped in flowering vines.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her head shaking as she glanced in the direction Nanna had gone. “She’s a real handful.”
I laughed. “She is, but I don’t think you really are sorry. I also don’t think you need to be.”
“I’m a little sorry,” she said, leaning back in the chair and exhaling like she hadn’t been able to breathe for an hour.
I couldn’t blame her, though. With the Red Sea glittering beyond the low stone wall and the family inside for a moment, it was peaceful out here.
“What was that all about?” I asked, taking the weathered chair across from her at the little concrete table.
“With Nanna?” she asked. “She really does like you, but she’ll bully you relentlessly until you prove yourself. Especially now that she knows about your allergies.”
I felt my eyebrows hike up a little. “Prove myself? How am I supposed to do that?”
She started counting on her fingers. “You’ll have to out-eat my brothers.”
“I don’t think that’s physically possible.”
“It isn’t, but you’re going to have to try anyway,” she said, then moved onto the next finger. “Carrying heavy things will also help.”
“I can probably manage that.”
She glanced at me, smiling as her gaze caught mine. “I’m sure, but there’s more.”
“Okay. Like what?”
“Nanna believes women should never have to buy anything themselves, so showering me, Jasmine, and my mom in gifts won’t hurt.”
“I can definitely manage that. What else?”
“Well, eating is the big one.” She sighed. “Nanna is old school. To her, a man who doesn’t eat his body weight at every meal could never be strong enough to be a provider.”
I winced. “I’ll try my best.”
She smiled again. “She’ll appreciate any effort as long as she can see that you’re making it.”
Our knees brushed under the table and my heart rate immediately spiked.
For two weeks, I’d been thinking about that one little kiss beside the Nile and the almost kiss back in Chicago.
It’d become worryingly difficult to think about anything else, and with Deja now right across from me, her dark hair moving slightly in the breeze and those golden eyes warm on mine, all I wanted was to lean in and do it again.
I was pretty sure at least one of her family members was watching us from nearby, though. They always were.
Deja let out a soft sigh, like she was thinking the exact same thing and was equally disappointed about it. She dropped her gaze to her hands. “We’re still getting our dinner date.”
“We are?” I asked, beyond surprised. “I thought our night by the Nile was the last date before the wedding.”
“Yeah, well, I owe you that dinner we never got around to back in the States and I have a plan.”
“Is it a good one?” I asked. “Don’t get me wrong. I would like nothing more than to have dinner with you, but it seems unlikely that your dad will let it happen.”
“That’s why he’s not going to know about it,” she said smugly, turning toward the sea for a beat before looking back at me. “I know everything feels insane right now, but thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming here,” she said softly, the breeze blowing a lock of hair across her cheek as she smiled. “For staying.”
“I was always going to come, and I’ve already told you that if we do this, I’m always going to stay.
” I folded my arms on the warm concrete table and leaned just a touch closer to her across it.
“It’s been rough. I won’t deny that and I’m sure you’re feeling it too, but things will eventually calm down and once they do, we’ll have all the time in the world to breathe. ”
Naturally, the back door opened back up before either of us could get another word out and Nanna reappeared, leading every Saad man behind her into the garden.
It looked like our private time had reached its daily limit, but that’d been more than we’d had in weeks and at least we’d made the most of our brief time together by saying things we actually meant instead of just making small talk.
I was finding that to be a refreshing change of pace, if I was being honest. Usually, it took people months to start saying stuff that meant something, and while I knew it was mostly the circumstances with Deja and me, it also would’ve been easy for both of us to shy away from saying anything real.
Especially considering how little time we had together.
But neither of us had chosen to go that route and I was enjoying the fact that we were both approaching this head on, balls to the wall. Even if it meant making ourselves pretty vulnerable for a few minutes at a time.
Nanna barked something in Arabic, waving the guys toward the vegetable beds. I glanced at them and saw Rami grab a basket and Tarek pick up pruning shears. Basel marched to the citrus grove with Khaled in tow, but then Nanna pointed directly at me before motioning at the tomatoes.
I stood without even thinking about it, but before I went, I leaned toward Deja. She looked up, surprised, but I didn’t let that stop me from pressing the fastest kiss imaginable against her temple.
It was over in a fraction of a second and I straightened up, walking away with my heart pounding and a smile on my lips.
When I reached the tomatoes, Rami appeared beside me with another basket in his hands, but he twisted slightly as he handed it over, as if he wanted to hide his face from the family.
“I saw that,” he said, but at least it was playful, so I doubted he was about to rip me a new one for it.
Even so, he’d once again proven that in this family, someone was always watching.
For the past couple weeks, I’d found that knowledge a little intimidating, but now, suddenly, standing in the warm sunshine with the sea glittering on one side and Deja watching me from the other, I was starting to realize that maybe it just meant it was time to get a little creative.