Their Save-the-Date Charade, page 11
“Here, let me get those for you,” he said.
Though it was only a brief touch, his fingers skimming hers left a tingle with her long after he moved away and began unloading the bags on the island. There was milk, eggs, oil as well as all kinds of fruits and vegetables, seasoning, and finally small bags of rice and flour. Once her parents had learned about the business dinner Alwan was hosting, they’d insisted on chipping in with what they could.
He whistled, his eyes widening in awe. “Whoa. Your mom and dad really went above and beyond. Are you sure they’re all right without me paying? Because I’d be more than happy to.”
“They know,” she said, smiling and walking to the other side of the island across him. “But they were adamant that I bring everything we could need for the dinner over here.”
Scratching his head, Alwan looked around at the groceries overflowing his island counter. “There is no way we’ll be using all of this though.”
“I think that’s what they were hoping. Knowing them, they’re probably worried your fridge is empty, what with the bachelor lifestyle you live. You’re just lucky I talked them out of emptying all their shelves and unloading most of their inventory on you.”
He laughed before clapping and rubbing his hands together. “Well, then, I guess we better make this the best dinner ever. Don’t want to disappoint anyone.” Turning to the wall of pantry cabinets, Alwan pulled open one of the cabinet doors and fished out an apron. He passed it over to her and their fingers brushed again, that electric spark dancing through the light contact once more.
“Your dress is too beautiful to ruin,” he said with another of his toe-curling, heart-racing smiles.
“What about you?”
He looked down at his plain long-sleeved shirt and light-wash jeans. “I dressed to make a mess. In other words, I should be good until I change for dinner later.”
It struck her that it was the first time she’d seen him looking so casual. Usually he was stuck in one of his suits, and though he was dressed down, he still looked good. Real good. Had she ever noticed his biceps before? Because she was looking now and with every flex of his muscles, she felt her mouth grow drier, her breath quicken and her body tighten all over with longing.
Giving her head a shake, Lulu realized Alwan had asked her a question.
His small smirk told her that he’d caught her ogling him.
She steeled herself for his taunting, but instead of poking fun, he gestured to the groceries and asked, “Would you help me put some of this away in the fridge? It’s not like many places are open today, and I don’t want anything spoiling on us. This dinner has to go smoothly if not perfectly.”
“Speaking of dinner, what are we making?” She placed her purse down on one of the sleek leather barstools along the island and, tying the apron around her long-sleeved light green maxi dress, looked around and raised an eyebrow at him. “Also are we waiting on your mom?”
“About that. She’s not coming anymore.” He then explained how the restaurant was even busier than his parents had been prepared for and that because one of their sous-chefs was out sick, his mother had no other recourse but to stay.
Letting it sink in that it was just going to be the two of them, alone, in his home, Lulu tried and failed to quell the little shivery excitement chasing up her spine.
“Is that okay with you? Or do we need to fetch your little beast to guard you from me?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Blue is neither a beast nor my guard. Anyway, I don’t need one. I’ve got my own claws.”
“Feisty. Are you so sure about that?” Setting down a head of lettuce, he stalked around the counter to her, his long fingers trailing along the edge of the island, his dark brown eyes now hooded and fixed on her and his smile a slow, seductive pull of his thick brown lips.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think that I’m doing?” He stopped before her, drumming his fingers on the granite countertop, that stupid, sexy grin of his making her weak in the knees.
“S-stop teasing me,” she stammered and hugged her arms tighter to her chest.
He lowered his head, the space between them growing that much smaller as he whispered, “I’ll stop when you stop making it so fun. Until then…” Trailing off purposefully, his gaze lowering to her mouth, Alwan moved in—his intent as clear as the day pouring in through the windows.
He’s going to kiss me!
Breath hitching at the thought, she shut her eyes instead of shoving him away or running off.
But it wasn’t a kiss she experienced.
It was the feel of air brushing along the side of her face. She snapped her eyes open and whirled around once she saw Alwan wasn’t standing in front of her any longer. He was strolling toward the fridge, the lettuce back in his hand.
She sputtered quietly, her face heated, her irritation with him warring with her yearning for the kiss he’d denied her. That kiss he clearly never meant to give her, by the way he grinned mischievously at her from the open fridge doors.
“So, fiancée of mine, are you ready to cook with me?”
* * *
“I have to say that was the best dinner I’ve had in months. The downfall of globe-trotting, I’m afraid. But my compliments to the chef stand.” Abdel, the Sudani businessman Alwan had invited into his home, now gestured to Lulu across the table from him.
His smile was as warm as his robust laugh when Lulu quickly corrected him. “As much as I’d love to take credit, Alwan made most of the food. I just contributed the sambusas.”
“She’s being modest,” Alwan said, looking to her and taking in the heightened color in her glowing brown face. Lovely didn’t begin to capture her attractive qualities to him, but it was a fair attempt. “She helped me out with quite a bit. In fact, I’d go as far to say that this dinner couldn’t have happened without her.”
Lulu’s eyes flashed wide-open, her lips parting with her shock.
“It was a team effort, then,” Abdel cut in, the older man nodding.
“A team effort,” Alwan echoed before he turned back to regard their guest. “You said it best, sir.”
Wagging a thick finger at him, Abdel said, “I thought I warned you not to call me ‘sir.’ Makes my already old bones feel older.”
“With all due respect, sir, my parents would roll over if they heard me call you by your name. It’s either sir, sayidi or ustadh.”
Abdel barked another laugh and slapped his hand down over the dining table. “Very well. I’ll acquiesce to the honorific, but only for the dessert I know you’ve both made.”
“I’ll get it,” Lulu said cheerfully, standing before Alwan could. And when he tried to offer a hand to clear the table, she shook her head and gave him a surreptitious look complete with a little jerk of her chin toward Abdel. It dawned on him that she was trying to give him an opportunity to talk shop with the older businessman.
When Lulu left to fetch dessert, Alwan breathed deeply and, feeling braver, leaned forward.
Though threads of white coiled through his short, curly hair, Abdel’s gaze was sharp as a blade as he assessed him quietly.
“I see it’s come time to discuss business, then,” he said, surprising Alwan when he raised a hand. “Before you rush and give me a long-winded speech extoling all your merits, I’d like to ask you something. Are you serious about opening your own legal practice?”
“Of course,” Alwan replied quickly, the answer coming to him easily. Right now, right then, he wanted nothing more than for his private practice to take off and do well. It was why he was here. Why Lulu was by his side. Compelled by the thought of her, he flicked a glance over to where she worked in the kitchen. And just one look at her and his heart jolted faster, his cheeks warming up when he turned back to Abdel and found the older man looking back at him with a small knowing smirk.
“And that, right there, is why I’m asking.” Abdel nudged his head to the kitchen with a hoarse chuckle. “I recognize that look because I’ve seen it on my own face whenever I’m near my wife.
“It’s no wonder, then, that when I’m asked what I attribute my success to that I always answer with her name. Despite my late work nights, my overly filled schedule and the last-minute meetings interrupting our plans, she remains my main pillar of support even after almost fifty years of marriage. In fact when I told her about this dinner, she wanted to be here, but she’s helping our daughter care for our first grandchild.
“Now, the reason I’m telling you this is because you remind me of myself when I was young, enterprising and so sure that I could juggle every aspect of my life smoothly. You’re about to be married though, and from what I see, you care for your fiancée very much and she feels the same for you.”
Alwan was stunned into silence. Was he being that obvious about his affection for Lulu? This baffling, bone-deep need to look at her, be around her and soak in all the attention she was willing to give him reading so clearly to everyone else but him.
And was what Abdel said about Lulu true?
Does she care for me too?
Alwan glanced over at her, the urge too strong to ignore or tamp down even as he looked back at Abdel and asked, “Are you saying all this because you’re not interested in working with me?”
The older man shook his head. “What I’m saying is that I want you to seriously consider the sacrifices running your own business will require. Your parents have spoken highly of you…but also of your ambition. From personal experience, I wouldn’t advise it’s the best trait for a marriage.” Abdel paused and looked over to the kitchen and Lulu again. “But in regard to business, I like that your practice, much like my own company’s medical technology, intends to help those who our laws and society don’t always empower. Yes, your parents told me that part too,” he said with a benevolent smile. “Which is why, as a family man myself, I have no doubt that you’ll be an asset and not a liability to me.”
Understanding what he meant, Alwan had to fight not to jump up and shout out from sheer exhilaration. Hoping he looked calm and composed, he accepted Abdel’s handshake and pumped the older man’s fist.
“I’ll still need to hear a full proposal, and bring you in to speak to my executives and board of directors, but I see a promising future partnership for us both.” Abdel smiled toward Lulu as she walked over with a tray of smaller plates of basbousa in her hands. Made of ghee, yogurt and shredded coconut among many ingredients, the semolina cake was a favorite in many Middle Eastern and North African countries. It smelled as sweet as it tasted and Alwan wasn’t alone in appreciating the traditional dessert.
Abdel rubbed his hands together and beamed happily. “My, I’m being treated like a king today. Fine food. Finer company. Careful, I might not want to leave.”
They all shared in laughter.
Despite what he’d said, Abdel did eventually announce his departure, but he didn’t leave empty-handed. Lulu persuaded him to take some of the cake they’d made. Seeing how happy her gesture made Abdel had Alwan wanting to hug her for her thoughtfulness. Resisting the instinct to take her in his arms was difficult, especially as it intensified when they were alone in his home again.
“What? Is there something on my face?” she asked when he trailed her from the elevator where they bid Abdel farewell back to the kitchen where she’d already started cleaning up. He’d been leaning against the island, watching her place the rest of the basbousa into a food storage container before walking it to the fridge.
She wiped at her cheeks when he didn’t stop staring.
“Alwan, what is it? You’re freaking me out.”
He shook his head slowly, unsteadily, the need for her squeezing his lungs tight, fisting his throbbing heart and making him run hot and cold and all at once— Blinking out of his daze, he said, “I just…wanted to thank you for helping with everything. But most of all for showing up.”
“You don’t have to do that. At least for the time being, we’re a team, so your wins are mine and vice versa.”
Team.
There was that word again. Abdel had used it to describe them as well, and it’d sounded good then. Just as it sounds good now, he thought.
“Even so, my gratitude stands.” He slid a step closer to her, then another.
She looked up at him, that tantalizing rush of blood just under her cheeks was back and her pouty mouth called to him on a primal level begging to be claimed.
Earlier he’d nearly tossed out all his doubts and kissed her. It would’ve been a mistake—a big one, he knew that. The kind of error that Alwan wouldn’t be able to walk back easily. Not with Lulu, and certainly not with himself. Because kissing her would mean acting on his attraction and letting her know how he felt about her.
And since he shouldn’t be feeling anything for her, a kiss was completely, totally, beyond forbidden territory.
Yet he still wanted to do it.
A muffled boom from someplace outside ripped away the moment.
“Fireworks,” she murmured. “Guess the celebrations are starting.”
“Did you want to go up to the terrace?”
Alwan led her upstairs to his private oasis, realizing that they’d been so busy cooking all afternoon and then entertaining through the evening that he hadn’t had a chance to give her a full tour of his home yet. He promised himself he would another day, even if a little voice taunted, Will you even have time for that? It was true. The clock on their deadline was ticking closer with each day that passed, bringing them nearer to the reality that she’d probably never again have a reason to set foot in his home.
Shaking off the hurt that bloomed with that thought, Alwan smiled over at Lulu as she passed him and twirled in place with her arms stretched out, her delight in his rooftop terrace instantly cheering him up.
“This is where we should’ve had dinner,” she exclaimed. “You have a whole kitchen up here!”
“What can I say? I love a good cookout, and it saves me from making trips up and down the stairs.”
Lulu shook her head with a smile. Plopping onto the outdoor sectional sofa, she gently touched her fingertips to the pale yellow petals of the jasmines on a trellis and her gaze wandered up to the fairy lights strung above on the pergola. She gasped a soft, sweet sound, the whites of her eyes clearer in the dusk as the sky lit up with fireworks.
“I get some pretty good views up here.” He sat down beside her, resting back on a couple cushions and tucking an arm behind his head as he divided his attention between the display lighting up the night sky and sneaking peeks at her.
For a short while they quietly watched together, but as soon as there was a lull between fireworks, Alwan looked over to her and said, “Abdel wants to work with me. It’s not a done deal yet, but he’s reassured me that he’s strongly interested. Again, I couldn’t have done that without you.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
“No, don’t do that whole humble thing. I was there, remember? I saw what you did, and you deserve every bit of credit.”
Smiling and smoothing her hands over the long skirt of her billowy green dress, Lulu curled her legs up on the sofa and hugged a cushion to her chest. “Fine. But if anything, it was your cooking that sealed the deal. That…what did you call it? Bas-something?”
He chuckled. “Basbousa. It means ‘small kiss.’”
“Oh, does it now? That’s interesting.” Lulu’s eyes shifted ever so subtly to his mouth, but Alwan hadn’t missed it or the way she lightly bit her lower lip and hummed softly, distractedly.
“A sweet meaning for a sweet dessert… Seems fitting to me.”
Still staring at his mouth, Lulu murmured, “Yeah, me too.”
Sheer willpower kept him from sliding over the small space between them on the sofa, taking her chin in hand and seeing for himself if she tasted as sweet as she smelled and looked.
The fireworks whooshing up, exploding and crackling overhead saved him from falling victim to temptation again.
And this time when the pyrotechnics took another intermission, Alwan stood to stretch his legs and walked to the edge of the terrace, his back to her now, the city with its carpet of bright lights spread out before him. His attempt to create distance didn’t last long though. Her richly floral perfume reached him first, her voice following as she came to stand beside him.
“So, does everyone in your family know how to cook? Or did that gene skip your brother?”
Alwan thought desiring her and fighting his longing was tough, but then he hadn’t anticipated that they’d be talking about Hashim. Even on a good day his brother was the last subject he wished to discuss. Lulu had no idea though, and he couldn’t exactly tell her why, worried more about what questions she’d ask him then.
Because if she did, Alwan didn’t trust himself not to spill his family secrets to her. Just being near Lulu made him want to share more of his life with her than anybody else. But this was one thing that he wasn’t prepared to tell her, so he aimed a small smile down at her and gave her what she sought: an answer.
“Genetics didn’t really have anything to do with it. The reality was more that we were roped in to help out at the restaurant sometimes, so we just picked up the skills along the way.”
“Still, that’s sweet. I like that you all share a passion for making food. I guess it’s true—a family that cooks together, stays together.”
She didn’t know how far off the mark she was with that comment. But he masked his grimace behind another forced smile, relieved to see that Lulu wasn’t even looking at him any longer.
Resting her hands on the balcony railing, she was gazing ahead at the cityscape from his rooftop, her line of sight as far off as the CN Tower piercing the horizon like a lit-up needle. “I envy my parents and yours. That’s what I would’ve wanted for my children, you know, if my…circumstances were different.”
His heart pulsed for her, his hand already moving, covering hers on the railing, his fingers squeezing her comfortingly.
A moment later, he said, “I can’t speak on your parents, but as for mine, let’s just say that it’s not as clear-cut.”
