Chapter 10
chapter 10
Later that week, Naomi stood shoulder to shoulder beside Dev at the bazaar’s counter, watching Nick and his construction crew gut the store, with a huge grin on her face. Dev was frowning.
Quelle surprise.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Dev was not a champion for change. For that reason, and the countdown to Gia’s three-month deadline looming over her, she had kept Dev away from the bazaar so Nick could get a head start. Smashing a deep-fried ball of dough in his face had simply been an unexpected perk to her plan.
Dusty aisle by dusty aisle, the store was transforming into a blank slate for new beginnings and reimagination. In the growing emptiness of where knickknacks, display stands, and faded posters of Bollywood movie stars had once been, Naomi saw possibilities. An empty canvas just waiting for color, texture, and meaning. Naomi loved this part.
Buoyed, she nudged Dev and lowered her voice. “Why so serious?”
He turned to glare at her. “How—”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The methodical pounding of a sledgehammer drowned out his comment. Dev snapped his mouth shut and directed a glare at the plaid-wearing offender. When the noise stopped, he tried again.
“How long do—”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Naomi unsuccessfully checked her smile and used the mind-numbing noise as an excuse to lean into his face and shout, “What?”
At the next bout of silence, Dev’s words rushed out. “I said, how long do we have—”
Bang! Bang!
Naomi threw back her head and laughed maniacally until Dev grabbed her upper arm and pulled her closer. He pressed his lips close to her ear. “How long do we have to endure this racket?”
She froze, her side pressed to the front of his chest. For a guy who was frosty at the best of times, the heat seeping from him was a mystery in itself. His breath dusted over her, sending a minty shiver spiraling downward from her earlobe to her core. When he didn’t step away, Naomi turned her face toward him, their noses a hairbreadth away. His chocolate eyes had darkened into rich, velvety fondue, and, for a wayward nanosecond, they snapped downward to her lips before meeting her eyes again.
“Well?” he asked, his voice pitched lower as if inviting Naomi to lean closer. His warm breath fluttered against the sensitive skin behind her ear, and while Naomi fought to remain still, she couldn’t stop her toes from curling inside her shoes.
Before she could answer, Nick stepped to the counter. He had that shiny, elated sheen of a contractor high on the thrill of a remodel. Naomi reclaimed her space and smiled at her friend. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dev stiffen.
“We’re going to make a lot of progress today,” Nick reported, inadvertently answering Dev’s question. “Give us a week, maybe less, and we’ll have this place emptied out.” He hooked his thumbs onto his tool belt and turned to Dev with an easy smile. “I think we’ll be able to meet your three-month deadline, no problem.”
“That’s great,” Naomi chimed in when Dev failed to answer. Or refused, given the stony look in his eyes. His trademark scowl was back. “Thanks, Nicky. There’s a reason why I always call you in for a job.”
“We have done our fair share of redesigns together. You’re practically my work wife.” Nick jerked his thumb in Naomi’s direction and addressed Dev. “The stories I could tell you about this one.”
“I bet,” Dev said, his voice short.
Nick turned back to Naomi, undaunted. “We will need to firm up our materials, colors…”
Naomi nodded and reached into her bag for her notes. She pulled out a typed list she’d made for Nick the night before and slid it onto the table. Dev sidled closer to take a look, and as sharp as a starting gun, Naomi was keenly aware of his proximity.
If she backed up half an inch, she’d be pressed against his solid frame, and the knowledge drizzled a slow, sweet burn through her veins.
“A few things are missing, but this looks solid. Gives us a good idea of where to start,” Nick said, folding the list and tucking it into his back pocket. “What would I do without you and your anal-retentive ways?”
“Install a mirrored dance floor?” Naomi teased.
“Hey! The owner of that bar wanted original ideas—”
“Right, and you just love an opportunity to—”
“It’ll be hard to meet your deadline if you don’t get back to work.” Dev’s voice interrupted their banter.
As usual, Nick was unbothered. “You got it.” He smiled at her again, winked at the ever-stoic Dev, and ambled off to consult with his crew.
Dev’s brow was furrowed as he watched Nick walk away. “Did he just…wink at me?”
“Yep.”
Dev turned to her, his mouth agape.
Naomi bit her lip and swallowed a chuckle. “He’s always had a thing for brooding, grumpy guys.” She didn’t add that Nick might not be the only one.
“He’s gay.” Gravy-thick realization coated Dev’s voice.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s been dating that guy with the sledgehammer for almost six months.”
A small, private smile crossed Dev’s lips so quickly, Naomi could have blinked and missed it. But she didn’t. She had grown curiously attuned to those rare, quiet smiles and the wink of his dimples. It helped that those smiles, as fleeting as they might be, were the perfect time to capitalize on Dev’s good mood. She reached for her bag again, ready to seize the moment with a deep discussion on fabric swatches. Behind the whack of hammers and shuffling of construction boots, she thought she detected the sound of the store’s front entrance opening, but Naomi didn’t bother to look up until she heard Dev hiss, “Shit.”
Swatches forgotten, Naomi snapped her head up to see a young South Asian walking—no, stalking—toward them. She was a woman on a mission. She barely glanced at the half-demolished store around her and, lucky for her, her feet seemed immune to the dangers of stray nails and loose debris as they sought their target: Dev.
Naomi lifted an eyebrow and turned to him.
“Get ready,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
“What?”
He whipped his face toward her, urgency darkening his eyes. “You said you would deter potential brides; that includes the ones who come to do battle.”
Oh right. It had been all too easy for Naomi to forget her end of the bargain and focus on the job, especially since none of the matchmaker’s contingent of potential brides had surfaced for several days. It had been remarkably pleasant, pouring all her energy into the bazaar with Dev by her side, as baffling a realization as that was. He was like a shadow, gloomy and at times foreboding, but he was always there. Dependable.
But now it was her turn to deliver. If Dev could good-naturedly take a gulab jamun to the face in the name of research, then surely Naomi could fool this matrimony-minded panther making her way toward them into believing that she, too, was in the running as a potential South Asian daughter-in-law. Even if that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“Dev?” the girl asked shortly.
“Uh, yeah?”
However, with charm like that, maybe Dev didn’t need her help after all.
“Jasminder Dhaliwal,” the girl said. “I’m here to see if we’re a match.”
“Well—”
Jasminder pulled out her phone and glanced down at the screen. “I’ve reviewed your profile at length, and a lot of your qualities match what I’m looking for.”
Despite herself, Naomi leaned forward. “Such as?”
“I’m interested in someone with a good education, solid lineage…” Jasminder gestured toward her phone again. “A secure job, the potential for upward mobility, and no kids.”
Naomi turned to Dev with raised eyebrows. After seeing him play with one of the aunties’ toddlers at Aashi’s dinner party, the information that he was antichildren took her by surprise; however, when she thought about it, Dev tended to err on the side of aversion when it came to, well, everything.
“You don’t want kids?” Naomi asked.
Jasminder waved her phone impatiently. “No, no. It says he does want kids but that he doesn’t already have them.”
“It does?” Dev looked alarmed. “My profile says I want kids?”
“Don’t you?” Jasminder said, frowning as she scrolled through her phone.
“I…I…”
“Can I see his profile?” Naomi asked. When Dev angled his head warningly, she cleared her throat. “I mean, can I review his profile again?” Jasminder handed her the phone.
While Naomi was well aware that an awkward silence had descended over the three of them, she was powerless against the lure of reading Dev’s matchmaking profile. No middle name, thirty-one years old, five-ten…It took less than one swipe to reach the bottom of the page. How peculiar it was to sum up a person’s marriage potential on one, maybe two pages, as if Dev’s education, salary, religion, and parents’ and grandparents’ names were enough to ascertain what kind of husband he would be. She’d gleaned very little from skimming his bio. Nothing that mattered, anyway.
And yet these were the things that meant everything to the Gias, Jasminders, and Larisas of the world. These were enough for him to be a worthwhile candidate on the marriage market. It was a baffling punch to the gut knowing that Naomi would never measure up to these standards. That her diploma from a technical college, her struggling career, and the fact that she didn’t know her biological grandparents’ histories would be marks against her, earning her a big, fat red stamp: undesirable.
There was little time to wallow in this realization, though, as Dev cleared his throat as if his lungs were in a choke hold. When Naomi’s gaze met his, he looked ready to jump out of his skin as his eyes darted to where Jasminder stood and back again.
Oh right.
“Well, Dev has all the qualities I’m looking for in a man—I mean, husband, too,” Naomi said as she slid the phone back to Jasminder.
Jasminder cocked her head expectantly.
“And…” Naomi tried to sound territorial. “I got here first, so…”
“So?” Jasminder looked between Dev and Naomi, unimpressed.
“So I’d like to get to know Naomi a little better,” Dev offered.
“But maybe if you get to know me , you might feel otherwise,” Jasminder reasoned.
Naomi wet her lips and darted a glance at Dev, but the panic creasing his forehead was enough to alert her that he was fumbling. It was up to her to run the ball even if Jasminder seemed capable of filling every spot on the defensive line.
But Naomi and Dev had agreed on a game plan, and with the beginnings of the bazaar’s rebrand happening right before Naomi’s eyes, there was no way in hell she wasn’t playing to win.
“He’s not interested,” Naomi informed Jasminder, whose eyes narrowed in challenge. Bring it , Naomi thought darkly. Her next paycheck depended on her ability to get rid of any and all potential brides, and when it came to keeping her lights on, Naomi was prepared to tuck her head down and charge.
“And how would you know?” Jasminder asked. “Are you his girlfriend?”
Dev opened his mouth to answer, but Naomi beat him to it. After all, she had rent to pay.
“Yes,” she said, startling herself with how easily the word tumbled from her lips. Or perhaps the real surprise was how seamlessly she was learning to toe the line between the truth and the lies. The knowledge was an uncomfortable weight and she quickly added, “I mean, kind of.”
Jasminder turned to Dev. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Naomi said before Dev could answer and further botch up what was already turning into one hell of a hack job, “that we’re still figuring things out.” She moved closer to Dev and slid her arm around his trim waist. When Dev failed to shift his arm so it encircled her shoulders as a socially competent person might to accommodate a side hug, Naomi was left pressing her nose into his firm biceps. She rolled with it, smooshing right in, and batted her lashes up at him. “Aren’t we, honey boo boo?”
“Right,” he said faintly.
“Right,” Naomi cooed with enough assurance for both of them. It looked like she was going to have to sell this on her own. Naomi straightened her fingers, which were currently wrapped around his waist as if she were preparing to jab someone in the throat before drilling them into his side. As she’d hoped, Dev’s arms jerked up and she leveraged the free space to snuggle right in. It was an added bonus to learn that Dev’s preference for loose, casual clothes was not doing justice to the body underneath.
“So…” Jasminder studied the pair, her skepticism ebbing away. “You’re spoken for.”
“He is,” Naomi confirmed.
“You’re her ‘honey boo boo’?”
Naomi could feel Dev’s full-body shudder, and she grinned to herself.
“Yes,” he said. Naomi could practically taste his bitterness on her tongue. “I’m her…‘honey boo boo.’?”
Naomi gazed up at him, trying to look docile and adoring and whatever else a filly who had found her stallion might look like. A small, nagging voice in the back of her head warned her of the potential consequences of what she was setting in motion, but she ignored it. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to slide her arm away from the firm lower-back muscles that were finally relaxing in her hold.
It was too late now.
Jasminder tucked her phone back into her purse and shook her head. “Well, this is a surprise.” Unlike Dev’s previous failed matches, though, she looked more bemused than irritated.
A frisson of guilt wormed its way up Naomi’s spine. “I, that is, we are sorry to have wasted your time.”
But Jasminder seemed none the worse for wear. She shrugged and, now that arms had been laid down, seemed to notice the construction crew behind her. They were packing up for the day, the small group of workers quieted by a long day of hard labor. Naomi and Nick were going to expect a lot out of them in the next few months, but it would be worth it.
She wasn’t going through with all of this for nothing. But tucked securely against Dev’s side, her arm so relaxed around his waist, it was as if it had been there before and would happily go there again, and she couldn’t help but wonder who was really benefiting from their deal.
“Well, you never know,” Jasminder commented, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “You can read all the profiles in the world but who knows who you’ll meet in person.”
“Or whom your mother will sic on you next,” Dev murmured under his breath.
Naomi jabbed his side again, although more gently this time, and searched for something comforting to say to Jasminder. She might not understand the method, but she understood the desire to find a match, a person one could belong to.
But she knew better than anyone that there were no guarantees that feelings, no matter how deep they might seem to run, would last. After all, her biological father hadn’t stuck around. Even though he and her mother had fled to the prairies to raise their daughter, it had sustained him for only three years before he’d run off for something bigger and better out east. He was no better than her grandparents, who, after Naomi’s mother had exited their lives, seemed perfectly satisfied with an estranged daughter. And granddaughter. They had never sought her out, as if they had swept away their feelings, leaving behind zero crumbs for Naomi to find her way back.
Forever was a flighty promise at best.
“I have to say, I am surprised,” Jasminder continued. “I would not expect the two of you to be a match.”
When Naomi stiffened, Dev tightened his arm around her shoulders. Here it comes , she thought grimly. Don’t react. What was it about her that people like Jasminder, or Gia for that matter, could take one look and know something was lacking? That she wasn’t the kind of person one would consider a suitable partner for a person like Dev, who, apparently, was the catch of the day? Was it the wildness of her curly hair? Her clothes? Or were authentic South Asians gifted with a third eye that could suss out the riffraff from the roses?
Jasminder stared down at her phone, her face wistful. “I told the matchmaker I wanted a genuine kind of guy, someone with a solid job who was reliable, mature, and not too flashy. A serious, no-nonsense type of man.”
Naomi glanced up at Dev, who was listening attentively. He was all those things. The whole package. A catch.
But Jasminder shook her head at Dev, puzzled. “I never thought she would try to set me up with a ‘honey boo boo.’?”