31. Piper
thirty-one
piper
A Lesbunny Situation
I stare at the vet in shock.
“Ms. Parker, are you alright?”
I can feel my lips moving but no words seem to be coming out. I’ve become a mime. No, wait, mimes don’t move their lips. I’ve become a ventriloquist’s dummy with a mute ventriloquist.
Dev places his hand on the small of my back, asking the vet to give us a moment, and as soon as she leaves, Dev’s hands find my face. His thumbs run along the tops of my cheeks, his eyes dancing with mirth.
I told him last night that I didn’t need him to accompany me—I know how crazy things have been for him at work. He’s also been spending a lot of his free time with his mom. But he insisted on being here, saying this was important for him too because he felt like he’d become a part of the whole rabbit breeding experience.
I can’t be sure, but I swear his lips are doing that twitchy thing when he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “Hey, are you okay?”
I blink out of my stupor. “They’re both . . . girls?”
His cheeks puff, and now I know the bastard is trying to hold back a grin. “It looks as though we might have been trying to create a lesbunny situation, yes.”
“Oh, my God,” I stammer, my hand finding my forehead, but I do think it’s sweet he says “we,” taking some of the blame off me. “How could this have happened? The breeder promised me they would mate in due time. How could he have misread their genders?!”
“Well, it’s like the vet told us. Rabbit genders can be hard to determine at times. And Kevin does have a strange nodule near her . . .” He waves a hand, flicking a glance at my rabbit who just laid a string of poop in her kennel.
“After everything I’ve done,” I complain, still feeling like I’ve been duped. “The Rabbit Sex Playlist, the club lights, the various diets, the number of times I played Kama Sutra for them on my phone . . .”
“Let’s not forget our live performance for them,” he adds, chuckling but quickly removes the grin off his face when he sees the murderous look on mine.
His hands tighten over my jaw, eyes softening with affection. “Hey, look. This doesn’t mean you have to throw in the towel on this, okay? Now that we know Kevin and Natalie’s dating preferences, we just have to find them opposite genders. Just a plot-twist in their hare-y rom-com.” He purses his lips again to hold back another chuckle, and I pinch his side, making his shoulders shake with laughter.
“Dev, this isn’t funny!” I whine. “Miniature plush lop rabbits are rare. We might not find any for a while, and?—”
“Shh,” he says, putting a finger over my lips that I want to bite. “Let’s worry about this tomorrow. Right now, you have to get to your dress fitting. You can’t be late for that since your friends will be waiting. Ralph’s in the front for you.”
My shoulders sink with disappointment, but I know he’s right. My sister-in-law and my mom flew in this morning, and they’re waiting for me along with my friends at the boutique. And it’s one of the last things I have left to do, now that Dev and I have finished cake tasting, and Dev has claimed sole responsibility for the music. We went with a classic three-tier, raspberry-filled ivory cake that will be adorned with Claire’s roses.
I nod, looking up at him. “You’re right.”
His eyes caress my face the way I’ve gotten used to before he dips his face down, brushing his lips over mine. And while I know this isn’t the time or place, I pull him closer, deepening the kiss for a little longer.
“Why did you bring me here, Ralph?” I ask Dev’s chauffeur when he parks the car at the entrance of the Fairmont in Nob Hill. “The dress fitting is at the boutique in San Jose.”
Ralph exits the driver’s side and opens my door. “Mr. Menon had the entire party moved here, Mrs. Menon. He arranged transportation for everyone so your friends are all inside already.”
Wait, what?
He helps me out of the back seat. “What do you mean, he moved the party here? Also, I’m not Mrs. Menon yet. Please, just call me Piper.”
Ralph gives me a smile. “Apologies, Mrs. Menon, but according to the email sent to Mr. Menon’s entire staff yesterday, we are to refer to you as Mrs. Menon going forward.”
Oh, geez. I hold back my eye roll as I make my way toward the entrance of the hotel.
Pulling out my phone, I text the man responsible for the sudden changes.
Me
You instructed the staff to call me Mrs. Menon? arched brow emoji
Dev
I figured your nicknames, Peter, meri jaan , and little hellion were reserved for me. But if you prefer they call you one of those . . .
This time I actually roll my eyes.
Me
How about just Piper? And you’ve never told me what meri jaan means.
Dev
You’ve never been just Piper, meri jaan . They need to get used to calling you Mrs. Menon since the wedding is less than two weeks away. Ralph just texted me to tell me you’re at the hotel. How do you like it?
His first comment has me smiling as I get on the elevator, escorted by someone from the hotel staff.
Me
You keeping tabs on me, Lex? This hotel is stunning. Although, you really didn’t have to do this. The boutique would have been just fine for a dress fitting.
Dev
I didn’t want your day to be “just fine”. I wanted you to remember it. Which reminds me, don’t hand them your credit card. Everything, including the dresses and accessories you pick, have already been paid for.
Me
I am very much capable of paying for my wedding dresses, Mr. Moneybags.
Dev
Happy to hear that, but when it comes to you and me, I’ll always be the one to pay. It’s not up for debate.
Me
Maybe I like debating with you. Maybe I like getting under your skin.
Dev
I can find a few other ways for you to get under me. Have you gotten to the penthouse yet?
The doors to the elevator open and my breath halts inside my lungs as the woman from the hotel staff ushers me in. My Chuck Taylors nestle into the plush white rug as I step into the penthouse suite, taking in the views of the city and the bay from the panoramic windows. The distant hills peek out from beneath the fog as the mid-October sunlight washes over the room, making the chandeliers sparkle.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “This is . . .”
“Quite the view, right?” the lady asks with a knowing smile, but her voice is drowned out by my friends’ greetings as they rush off their chairs toward me.
“Piper!” my mother says, gathering me in a hug. Her eyes are already glistening, and I haven’t even tried on a dress. “Oh, sweetheart. I couldn’t sleep all last night, imagining you in the dress you’ll pick.”
I hug her back, holding on to her a moment longer and reacquainting myself with her familiar scent. “Well, don’t you go nodding off on me now. I need your opinion on what to choose.”
She chuckles, taking a step back so I can hug the rest of the group.
Shayla is next, my beautiful sister-in-law, with her signature asymmetrical bob, her huge hoops, and those stars tattooed behind her ear. She’s as petite as me, but where I get winded from clicking the TV remote, Shay’s a yoga and Pilates fanatic. I’ve heard she runs six miles a day too, which, even the thought has me wanting to strap myself to the nearest comfy couch.
I give her a long hug, and when I pull back, she’s dabbing the corner of her eye with a finger.
“Not you, too,” I whine. “Is there something in the air inside this suite?”
Shay chuckles. “I can’t help it. Weddings make me emotional. Or maybe it’s the post-baby hormones.” She gives me a sincere smile. “We’re just so happy for you and Dev.”
A twinge of guilt threatens to surface. Until recently, I’d been uneasy about my family not knowing the truth about mine and Dev’s arrangement, thinking the urgency of getting married on a short timeline was due to his mother’s health. But somewhere over the past couple of weeks, that guilt has faded, replaced by genuine excitement right alongside them.
Perhaps it also has to do with the fact that Dev and I got my family together on a FaceTime call last week and he met everyone, including my brother. Rowan liked him immediately, and that’s saying something because even though he’s my younger brother, he has protective, older brother qualities. The conversation just seemed easy, like Dev was already part of my family.
“I’m thrilled you could make it,” I tell her. “I know it couldn’t have been easy leaving both the kids.”
She shakes her head. “They’re in good hands. Although, I fully expect to come home to Kai hopped up on sugar and the baby sleeping in Rowan’s arms instead of in her crib. Seriously, your brother will take any opportunity to have her nap on him. And when he’s gone for games, I’m left dealing with a cranky baby who misses her human pillow.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not as upset as you’re pretending to be?”
She chuckles. “Because I’m not. I know the world knows him as an NHL superstar, but that man was born to be a father.”
And for reasons I can’t quite understand, her comment makes me think of Dev. The way he is with Rome and his sister. His infinite patience and ability to get on their level. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d make an incredible father one day.
The kind of father I never had, but the kind I’d want for my own children . . .
Wait. Hold the phone . . .
My own children? With Dev?
What in the holy matrimony and something blue am I thinking?
This is a dress fitting for a fake marriage, Piper, not a glimpse into an alternate reality where you’re not allergic to romance and happily-ever-afters. Get it together before you start thinking this is real.
“But it could be,” whispers a hopeful little voice inside my head. It’s been piping up a lot more as of late.
“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” snaps the usual skeptical part of my brain. “Stop trying to gaslight our negative thoughts and our collection of trust issues. We’re used to them!”
But even as I turn to greet the rest of my guests—Nisha, Sarina, and Jeena—I can’t shake the way my heart flips, imagining Dev waiting for me at the end of the aisle. Even if it will all be for pretend.
“Wait until you see all the wedding dresses,” Sarina says, grasping my hand and ushering me toward the area where a team of stylists are waiting for me. “They even brought designer Indian lehengas for you to try on.”
As I take in the racks of high-end garments, I notice a private chef setting up an array of pastries and delicacies on a bar adorned with huge vases of flowers and a chocolate fountain.
Dev did all this for me?
At some point, I’m handed a flute of champagne—the bottle on the server’s tray likely costs more than my mortgage—before I’m ushered to a room in the back with my choice of dress.
I take a long breath before I exit the changing room to a pin drop silence from my friends. Their eyes are fixated on me, my mom’s hands covering her mouth, while Shay visibly takes a shuddered breath.
I’ve already chosen a Victorian-inspired Vera Wang gown with intricate lace long sleeves and a lace and beaded bodice for our reception, and while that had everyone gasping, this designer bridal lehenga for our Indian nuptials has them speechless.
Standing on a pedestal, I cast my eyes down the full-length mirrors to my sides, taking in the intricate embroidery and emerald-green accents over the off-white lehenga skirt. It’s a masterpiece of embellishments and tiny woven crystals that hug my curves and catch the light with the slightest movement.
It’s the one.
My chest feels tight at the thought of how Dev will react when he sees me in it, knowing emerald green is his favorite.
“Piper . . .” Jeena says on a gentle exhale. “If I wasn’t married to the man of my dreams and his juicy potatoes, I would marry the shit out of you right now.”
My mother, God bless her, utters a confused, “Potatoes?” while Nisha and Sarina exchange perplexed glances.
Shay and I, however, just giggle softly, remembering Jeena’s infamous “potatoes confession” to her husband. Interestingly, she and Wayland were also in a fake relationship situation. Theirs, however, led to a real happily-ever-after, whereas mine . . .? Yeah, we’re not even going to go there right now.
“Inside joke,” I say to the others. “Let’s just say, Jeena has a rather peculiar fascination with agricultural assets .”
Jeena shrugs. “If you saw my husband’s A-grade agricultural assets , you would, too. But seriously, Piper, you look stunning.”
“Thank you,” I say, ecstatic about my two dresses.
I reach for my phone and text the man who made this beautiful day possible from the changing room.
Me
Lex . . . I’m speechless.
Dev
Speechless? Peter Parker Menon, is that you? The only times you’re speechless is when your mouth is stuffed full of my cock.
My cheeks heat, despite the fact that innuendos and dirty talk rarely surprise me. But with Dev . . . everything surprises me. Everything affects me.
Me
Well then, I plan to be speechless several times tonight.
Dev
Fuck, I’m in the middle of a meeting with a raging boner inside my pants.
Me
angel emoji Hmm. Looks like you’ve got quite the problem there, Mr. Menon. What are you going to do about it?
Dev
I’m not going to do anything about it. You’re the one who will spend the entire night doing something about it. When you’re ready, head up to the rooftop. There might be one more surprise waiting for you.
I’ve just changed back into the crop top and sweats I wore earlier and am just about to respond, my mind spinning with what the hell this man thought of now, when my friends pull me into joining them for drinks and the food awaiting us.
Another bottle of something pricey is popped before we all toast and my friends cheer, congratulating me.
“So, where are you guys going for your honeymoon?” Shay asks as I dig into a few hors d’oeuvres.
I finish my bite, telling her the truth. “Honestly, with Dev’s mom’s situation being so fragile, we might do a long weekend in Hawaii or Mexico. Nothing too far away, if we’re needed back here on quick notice . . .”
I don’t finish the sentence because even the thought makes me feel queasy.
Shay grasps my forearm in understanding, but before the mood can dip, Jeena and Sarina come over, each holding skimpy white lingerie they must have found on the racks of clothes.
Jeena wiggles her brows. “How fast is Dev going to rip this off you on your wedding night, you think?”
Three hours and three more flutes of champagne later, I’m ushered to the rooftop by the hotel staff, and the sight nearly knocks me off my feet.
Standing in front of a sleek helicopter with its blades spinning slowly is Dev, his hands tucked inside his suit pants pockets and his smile panty-melting as he strides over to me.
I look up at him, speaking loudly against the cool breeze whipping my hair to one side. “What are you doing, Lex?”
He shrugs, his eyes locked on mine. “Picking up my fiancée.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, what are you doing to me ?”
His hands find my hips, his thumb brushing the exposed midriff. “I’m getting you out of your head, Mrs. Menon. Don’t overthink it.”
My breath hitches as the meaning of his words floats in the air between us. He overheard the conversation between my friends and me last week.
I’m just about to ask him if that’s true when he interlocks our fingers and leads me to the helicopter. Helping me inside, he hands me a pair of headphones before double-checking my seatbelt. The pilot lifts us off smoothly and soon, we’re flying over skyscrapers, the bay, and the Golden Gate, watching the early evening lights twinkle in the distance.
And while I’ve never smiled as much in my entire life, it’s not the beautiful city unfurling beneath us that has my attention, it’s him. The strong set of his stubbled jaw and the warm tone of his tanned skin. The way his lips move and that adorable dimple dancing inside his cheek as he points out landmarks below us.
Dev turns to catch me staring at him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “See something you like, Mrs. Menon?” he asks through the microphone. His gravelly voice inside my ears rumbles inside my chest .
Yeah. Yeah, I do. Big time.
Heat crawls into my cheeks as I gesture to the window, lying through my teeth but knowing he can see right through me. “Just the view.”
His hand reaches for a wayward strand of my hair, his eyes so intense I feel breathless.
“Thank you,” I say, holding his gaze. “Today has been everything.”
“It’s just the beginning, meri jaan .”
My brows fold. “What do you mean?”
His eyes flick between mine, and I swear he wants to say something but shakes his head as if thinking better of it. “Wait til we get home.”
All too soon the tour ends, and the helicopter lands on the grounds of Dev’s sprawling mansion. A few minutes later, we’re making our way through his enormous front door and into the living room hand-in-hand when something catches my eye.
Not just something . . . two little somethings inside individual cages, with blue ribbons around their furry little necks. One of them is nibbling on a cucumber, while the other is sitting on hay, whiskers moving incessantly.
My mouth drops open as my shocked eyes turn to my husband-to-be. “How?”
He shrugs. “Does it matter? You wanted them, so I wanted them.”
My stomach tightens, my lungs and heart feel too big, and my throat closes. And for the first time in my life, I understand the terror and agony of a heart on the verge of falling.
On the verge of shattering.