Chapter Nine #2
And she was rewarded when he did exactly that. His mouth came closer to hers, so close she could smell cinnamon on his breath.
“Uh-huh,” she said, though he hadn’t said anything more.
His lips settled on hers. It was a barely there kiss, a brush, not nearly enough. She moved to scoot closer, but he stiffened.
His head came up, eyes sharp, and swiveled one way, then the other. He released her and reached inside his jacket, pulling
out a gun.
Oh. Back to reality. Heat brushed her cheeks as she realized how foolish she’d been to forget their circumstances and who
they were. Had he realized she was about to wrap herself around him?
Mortification made her tone sharp. “Have you had that on your body the whole time?”
“Since we got off the bus, yes. Hitchhiking can be dangerous.” He grabbed her arm and stepped in front of her, shoving her behind him.
“I know that. What—?” She stiffened when she heard the faint rumble of a car in the distance. “Who is that?”
“The caretaker probably.”
“Probably is not comforting.” Sejal tried to scoot around Krish, but he shoved her back again. “Do you have an extra gun?”
“No. Besides, you said you don’t like guns.”
“I also don’t like cars approaching me in the middle of the night. I need a weapon.”
He shoved her back again. “Damn it, can you let me do my job?”
His job . . . to protect you.
Nobody, save Kenneth and her aunt, had ever tried to protect her before. Krish stood at attention, gun at his side, stance
ready. As the car approached, he raised the gun slightly, his eyes watchful.
Fuck, that was hot.
Sejal realized her hand was on his wide back, and there was no reason for it to be there. But she didn’t drop it, not even
when a dark green Jeep drove slowly into the clearing and bathed them in its headlights. She squinted against the light, but
didn’t close her eyes. If this was how she was going to go out, she wasn’t about to miss it.
The engine cut, but the headlights remained on. The passenger-side door opened, and a diminutive shadow stepped out. Krish
muttered a low curse.
Sejal let out the breath she’d held. “This is the caretaker?” she whispered to Krish.
“No,” he said grimly, and lowered his gun. “That’s my mom. And stepfather.”
Sejal inhaled again. This was his parents’ house? What had Krish been thinking?
If she’d waited a few seconds, she wouldn’t have needed Krish to clarify the relationship, because the person approaching
them was obviously his mother.
She looked like Krish in miniature, with a strong, sharp nose and a head of silver and black curls. She was dressed like it
wasn’t the middle of the night, in jeans and a button-down flannel shirt with a green suede jacket thrown over it. Her dark
brown eyes shone in the light from the car. “Krish?” she asked, and in her voice was the befuddlement Sejal would expect of
a mother greeting her son in the middle of nowhere, disheveled woman in tow. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here? You’re never here.”
“Just checking in on things,” his mom said.
The driver’s-side door was shoved open, and a mountain clambered out. He was handsome, white and muscular, with a big bushy
beard and hair, and he looked about a decade younger than Krish’s mom.
His rosy cheeks split with a wide grin. “Good to see you, young man. Come here and give us a hug.”
Krish hesitated for a moment, then tucked his gun in his waistband and walked over to his mother. Un-self-consciously, Krish
hugged her first, and then he hugged the man.
Sejal tucked her hands in her elbows to hide her awkwardness.
She wasn’t great with any kind of display of affection, but parental love really threw her for a loop.
Her parents hadn’t exactly been the most welcoming or affectionate.
Her mother had birthed her as a cover for her real identity and abandoned her as soon as possible.
Her father had seen her as a tool to be used.
Her aunt . . . well, her aunt had loved her, Sejal supposed.
But then again, she’d also turned out to be a con woman, so who knew if the whole loving-her-niece thing had been a con.
She’d had surrogates, of course, and Ken and his husband had had hearts so big that Sejal had wanted to crawl into them, but
she hadn’t belonged to them, either, not really. What was it like? To be loved like that? To be adored by older people?
It was one thing to have mommy or daddy issues, but having both? Well, Sejal was aware that she was an outlier.
She looked around, wondering how to get out of this. She hadn’t signed up to meet the parents tonight, damn it.
Neither had Krish, it seemed. Krish gently extricated himself from their hold and took a step back. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“We needed the house.”
“That’s fine. Come.”
“No, not while you’re here. We’re . . . we’ll find another place to stay.”
“You absolutely will not. It’s the middle of the night.”
“There are people after us—”
“Hush, let’s get back to the house, and we can talk about what brought you out here.”
What had brought them out there was partially her evil ex and his henchman, who had made it clear he didn’t care about inflicting
collateral damage. Sejal shifted. “Um, actually, we really don’t want to lead anyone to you.”
His mother stepped to the side, so she could see Sejal better. “And who is this?”
Sejal opened her mouth, but Krish beat her to the punch. “This is Seema.”
“Seema.” The woman gave her a hesitant smile, which Sejal returned. “I’m Aarthi. This is my husband, Patrick.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Sejal said. She gave them a wave, and then realized they were both staring at her arms. She looked
down at her makeshift sock gloves. “Um, thanks for coming out.”
The woman’s sharp eyes cut over her. Sejal wondered if Aarthi knew that her entire outfit belonged to Krish. “You two look
a little worse for wear.”
Patrick gestured to the car. “Let’s go back to the house and get you guys comfortable. I’m sure we can sort this all once
you’ve rested a little.”
Sejal gave Krish a pointed look. His mouth was grim, but he gave a small shake of his head and gestured to the car. “We can’t
go anywhere else right now,” he murmured to Sejal. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. Follow my lead.”
Another demand for trust from the agent. Argh.
He did save your life. If you can’t trust him at the moment, who can you trust?
Aarthi fell into stride next to her son, with Sejal dragging her feet, bringing up the rear, and they piled into the Jeep.
Sejal fastened her belt in the back seat.
Aarthi turned around in her seat. “And how do you two know each other?” Her smile was tight, and she had eyes that were far
more cop-like than her son’s. “You’re friends? Coworkers? Seema, are you also a—”
“Seema is an illusionist.”
Aarthi blinked. If the woman hadn’t been looking at her, Sejal would have kicked Krish.
An illusionist! Yet another ill-advised decision from the man, to follow up them coming to his mom’s place.
He might as well have painted a neon sign over her head telling his mom to disapprove of her. She forced a smile. “As a hobby.”
Aarthi didn’t look much more impressed by that.
She licked her lips, but before either of them could speak, Patrick cut in.
“Not now, Aarthi. Let the kids have a minute to catch their breath before you start grilling them.”
“I’m just asking.”
She was, and it wasn’t even a ridiculous question. It was small talk, and would have been easy enough to answer if she knew
what Krish wanted her to say. There was nobody Sejal couldn’t con, but she needed some help, thanks, when a mom was involved.
Follow my lead. Easier said than done.
Except, Krish did seem to have things covered, though not in the way she would have thought. Before she could blink, he lifted
her sock-gloved hand where it lay between them on the seat, brought the back of it to his mouth, and kissed it. His lips were
warm through the cotton, and though her hands were covered and it wasn’t the kiss she’d been after earlier, it shot a bolt
of lightning right to her belly.
Jesus. What a spark.
It was a spark so bright that she almost missed his next words. “This is my girlfriend.”