Chapter Thirteen #3
But she couldn’t help but see the torture in Aarthi’s eyes, so she opened her big fat mouth. “Listen, your mom is making your favorite dinner. Why don’t we stay the night and leave first thing in the morning?”
Everyone’s attention shifted to her, Aarthi’s and Patrick’s eyebrows raised.
Krish had no expression on his face. He didn’t look like the man she’d spent the whole day with, who had handed his secrets
to her over a game. “We’ll leave now.”
Sejal rubbed her neck, Aarthi’s gaze crawling over her. “But—”
“I thought you’d want to get on the road.”
Yes. She should. She did! If they drove all night, they could get to Vegas by morning, and then this whole thing would be
over, and she’d never have to deal with Krish or his mysteries or his lips again. That was what she wanted.
Sejal nodded, reluctantly. “I do. Yes.”
“Why don’t you go get anything you’ve left in the room.”
Gah. “Okay.”
Only, she didn’t do that. She walked out, turned the corner, and paused. As soon as she left, the room erupted.
“Son, I think you should listen to your mother,” Patrick whispered. “She suspects this girl is not who she says she is, and
I agree. I’m not pleased you brought her here and compromised this place.”
Patrick had probably taken Krish to the barn specifically so Aarthi could corner her and interrogate her. Traitor.
“I’m not worried about being compromised,” Aarthi said, with no small degree of arrogance. “But I am worried about you, Krish,
and her. My gut is screaming that she is trouble, and what little she’s said about her family tells me they are a mess.”
Sejal pressed back against the wall and placed her hand over her stomach. Odd that a total stranger saying that hurt. She’d heard it all her life, had even said it to herself. Why did it matter what Aarthi thought?
“I trust her. She’s not her family.”
Sejal stared sightlessly into the mirror across from her in the hallway. She knew Krish had said that to get his mom off his
back. Obviously, he wanted to continue on this journey to catch her aunt, and this was the way to do it. He would say anything.
She couldn’t let those words be important to her.
“I know you’re hiding something. You’re not cut out for this, you’re not built to go up against professionals. You’re not
like your brother. Avi—”
“Mom.” Krish’s voice cracked between them.
Oh, that was too bad. Aarthi had used Krish’s first name for the first time, so Sejal was curious what she’d been about to
say.
“I know I am not my brother,” Krish continued. “You have spent your whole life making that clear.”
“You should be proud to not be like him now.”
Sejal frowned. Now she was growing more curious about the brother.
“We’re not discussing this.”
“Don’t go. Stay here. I won’t even say anything about that girl again. Let me handle Ivanovitch for you.”
“I am fine. We are fine. I’m sorry you don’t have much faith in me, but I’m done with this conversation.”
Sejal didn’t even register going to their room. It was like she blinked and she was up there, looking down at the sweatshirt
she’d borrowed from Krish when he’d driven her home from the bar. She crushed it in her hands.
The door opened behind her. “Are you ready?”
She dropped the folded sweatshirt beside the duffel on the bed. “Yes.”
“Good. If we push it, we can make it to Vegas by morning.”
He was still sticking to their deal of stopping in Vegas. Even though he had no idea why. Because she was starting to get
the sickening feeling that he was a good person.
And you are not. Sejal turned to face Krish. He looked sterner than usual, but his frown deepened when he saw her face. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she murmured, but he didn’t seem to believe her, because he walked closer. She cleared her throat. “How were the baby
goats?”
“There was only one baby goat.”
“I had no idea you were such a baby animal fan.”
“Who isn’t?” He came another step closer. Now only a few inches separated them. “My mom upset you, didn’t she?”
She is trouble.
“I’m fine. She’s wrong, you know.”
“What is she wrong about?”
“About how you’re not cut out for this life.” Sejal gestured around them. “We’ve been in a few hairy situations, and you’ve
gotten us through them.”
His eyes warmed, his detached mask slipping. “So have you. We make a good team.”
Perhaps it was the softening of his face, or the word team, that made Sejal go up on her toes and press her lips against his.
For a second, hands hanging limply at his sides, he didn’t respond. She was about to jerk away when he grasped her hips.
Not her waist, not her shoulders, but her hips. Who knew a hip grasp was the sexiest place a man could hold a woman?
He pulled her forward, and the kiss deepened. Her eyes were closed tight, all of her senses focused on the crush of his body
against hers and his lips and tongue moving over her. Electricity ran through every nerve ending of her body, leaving her
burnt and spent.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and grew lightheaded, whether because of him or because she was starved for oxygen, she
wasn’t sure. When he finally drew away from her, she sagged against him.
Reality returned to her consciousness in small increments: the sound of the heater kicking on, the pressure of his arms still
around her, his chest rising and falling, his breath brushing her cheek. Her lashes fluttered open.
His lips were wet and slightly parted. She waited for him to say this was a mistake, or an accident, but instead he lowered
his head and kissed her again. This time when they pulled apart, he tugged on her lower lip with his teeth. “We should go,”
he said quietly, and she nodded.
He released her and picked up the duffel. She expected him to walk away from her, but instead he held out his hand.
Damn it. He kissed like a god, was a master at cunnilingus, and he was chivalrous enough to take the luggage and hold out
his hand for her.
How did he know she liked having her hand held?
Sejal grabbed his sweatshirt from the bed and put it on, then accepted his hand. She didn’t know what else he’d said to his
mother and stepfather, and she was tense about seeing them again before they left, but all was quiet downstairs.
I trust her. She’s not her family.
His words, defending her. So silly to put so much stock in them, when she was leaving him and all his mysteries soon. Like
she’d told herself already:
It.
Meant.
Nothing.
And neither did he.