The Singles Table, page 15
Her lips twitched at the corners. “You have insurance. I think we’d better be thorough. I’ve ordered a CT scan and for that”—she opened the gown with a flourish—“you’ll need to put this on. And don’t worry. I’ve seen it all.”
“I’m suddenly feeling better.” There was no way he would suffer the indignity of a hospital gown.
Zara sat on the bed beside him and put a gentle hand on his arm. “I thought you lost consciousness for a few seconds. I know you were up right away and tossing bad zombies around like there was no tomorrow, but I really think you should get checked out to be sure.”
Her touch, her warmth, her soothing presence. Jay had been looking out for himself since he was ten years old, taking on the responsibility of shopping and meals so his mother could work extra hours. As a captain, he’d been responsible for his men. As a son, he’d looked after his mother when she was ill. He was the protector, not the other way around. But in that moment, he would have done anything she asked. Giving Parvati a brief nod, he said, “I’ll stay.”
“I’ll send a nurse to get you set up when you’re done.”
Zara followed Parvati outside the cubicle. Her voice dropped to a low murmur and he focused on getting changed and trying to tie the stupid gown so his ass wasn’t hanging out the back. By the time she pulled back the curtains, he was on the bed, a blanket over his legs, his body swathed in thin cotton.
“You look very fetching in pink.” Zara’s lips quivered with a smile.
“I blame you for this.”
Zara shrugged. “How was I to know you were so frightened of zombies you’d back away and fall into a cauldron?”
Their conversation drifted to his security work. Zara pressed him for details of the celebrity parties he’d attended until a nurse whisked him away for the CT. When he returned half an hour later, she showed him pictures of the movie stars she had deduced were his clients. He couldn’t tell her that she had guessed them all.
“You don’t have to wait,” he said after a nurse stopped by to let him know the results might take a few hours.
Zara heaved an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you alone. If you hadn’t agreed to come, I would have called you every hour to make sure you were okay. This way at least one of us can get some sleep.” She wandered over to the medical equipment on the back wall and absently flicked a switch.
“I thought you were going to Bob’s party.” Jay settled back on the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a bed for anything other than sleep or sex. Relaxation was not part of the success equation.
“Are you kidding?” She pressed a button, then another. “Did you seriously think I was going to a hotel room with a bunch of random drunk dudes to roll around in a bed covered in enough illegal substance to put us all away for life? I’m a lawyer. I like being a lawyer. I’m not going to throw it all away for a chance to represent D-list celebrity Bob Smith. And what kind of celebrity name is that? I told him he should get a stage name if he plans to make it big. Something cool. Vin Diesel’s real name is Mark Sinclair and Cary Grant used to be Archibald Leach. I’m sure we could jazz up Bob Smith.”
After watching her in court, he should have known better. Nothing got past Zara even if her attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Especially if it meant he’d wind up in a hospital bed for a slight headache that could have been cured with a good night’s sleep. The only way this situation could get worse was if . . .
“Jay? What the hell are you doing here?” Thomas walked over to the bed. “Brittany is a few cubicles down getting treated for an allergic reaction. People don’t seem to understand that allergy to nuts means she can die if she eats them. Fortunately we had her EpiPen with us and we got here in time so she’ll be fine.”
Jay made the introductions. He shook Thomas’s hand so hard the other man winced.
“Well . . .” Thomas wiggled his fingers by his side. “You certainly don’t seem ill.”
“I’m not,” Jay said, his voice firm and loud. “Not at all. I was just about to head back to the office. This was just a . . .” What the heck was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell Thomas the truth. Taking a deep breath, he shot Zara a quick, desperate glance, praying she wouldn’t talk about cauldrons. She caught his gaze and gave him the barest of nods.
“He’s trying to be modest,” Zara said quickly. “And stoic. J-Tech was providing on-site security work at a celebrity party where I was a guest. You know how crazy celebrities can get.”
Thomas nodded. “We have several entertainment clients.”
“Well, then, you know how quickly things can get out of hand,” Zara said. “Jay and his team had it under control in no time, but in all the craziness he took a blow to the head. He said he was fine, but as a personal injury lawyer, I recommended that he get it checked out. You can’t be too careful for both legal and medical reasons when it comes to head injuries even if the injury would not in any way affect the ability of an individual to perform at a hundred ten percent efficiency as Jay always does.”
“Good to know it’s nothing serious.” Thomas moved away. “I’d better get back to Brittany.”
“Thanks for the save.” Jay relaxed back on the bed after Thomas had gone. “That was the investor who’s hopefully going to fund our international expansion.”
“I remembered him from the Mexican restaurant.” She perched on the end of his bed. “I thought you’d want to assure him you would be back to work tomorrow and ready to dominate the world of security services.” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Good thing he didn’t want to stay and chat. I’m beginning to crash and I don’t have any gummies in my purse for an extra boost.” She shrugged when he lifted a quizzical brow. “It’s a weird energy thing. My dad is the same. We can push past our limits but then we just run out of energy and BAM. We’re out.”
“Why don’t you lie on the bed beside me?” He turned on his side and shifted to leave a space on the bed, although there wasn’t much room to move.
“It wouldn’t be . . . appropriate.” The longing in her eyes when she looked at the space he’d made for her belied her words.
“If you’re worried that you’re supposed to be finding my perfect match, I promise not to let her know we shared a bed.” He edged farther to the side, grateful for the railing that kept him from falling. “I have no ulterior motives, especially with all these people running around, and I don’t think there are any rules against it. The couple across the way are lying together and no one has said anything to them.”
“Since you put it that way . . .” She squeezed into the tiny space beside him, resting on her side. Three seconds later, she pushed herself up on one elbow. “As much as I appreciate the offer, this bed isn’t big enough for both of us.”
Jay eased onto his back, wrapped one arm around her and settled her head on his chest. “How about this?”
Zara snuggled beside him. “Acceptable.”
It was more than acceptable. Despite being so uncomfortably out of his element, and in a place that usually sent his pulse skyrocketing, he felt curiously calm.
“I used to play with the hospital equipment when my mom was going through her cancer treatment.” Jay’s lips brushed Zara’s hair. “I couldn’t just sit there and worry. I needed to do something with my hands.”
“Is she okay now?” Zara looked up, her forehead creased with worry.
“She had her five-year check and everything was good.” He hesitated, wanting to share his concerns with someone, but not sure if he could. “I was worried about her when she asked me to promise to try and find a partner so I wasn’t alone. It was an odd request. She knows how important my work is to me, what I want to achieve. I thought maybe the cancer had come back and she didn’t want to tell me. I’m still not sure.”
“You’ll have to ask her. Things like that are too important to go through alone.”
She was right. The discussion was long overdue. He’d been avoiding asking the question because he was afraid of the answer. But it wasn’t about him and his fear of losing his mom. It was about her and giving her support even if she said she didn’t want it. Much as Zara had just done for him.
Zara toyed with the edging on his gown. “My entire family takes things to the next level. They don’t ask for promises. They force-feed me men. I’m surprised one of my aunties hasn’t popped up here saying she was just in the neighborhood and look who is with her—a hapless eligible bachelor who let himself be dragged across the city by an auntie he barely knows because he’s that desperate for a wife.”
“Why don’t you tell them to stop?” Her hair was soft on his cheek, the floral scent partially masked by baby powder and ham kebab. She had changed out of her costume and washed off her makeup before calling the Uber, but her hair still carried the telltale scents.
“Same reason you made that promise to your mom.” She smiled, her dark eyes warming. “I love them. They’re my family.”
A tidal wave of emotion flooded through his veins. “I want to kiss you right now,” he murmured softly.
She tipped her head back and looked up at him through long, silky lashes. “That could be the head injury talking. I had the same feeling in the alley after I ran into the door at the art show.”
“Maybe it wasn’t the head injury.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, delighted when she softened in his arms.
“What kind of matchmaker would I be if I sampled the goods?”
“A thorough one.”
“I can’t do this, Jay.” Her breath whispered over his lips. “My life is one disaster after another. If you’re not already hiding something—wife, kids, criminal past, cat allergy, weird fetish, cult membership, double life—then I’ll unconsciously sabotage our relationship and you’ll never want to speak to me again.”
“I’m not asking for a relationship,” he said. “Just a kiss.” He traced the curve of her jaw, a feather-light touch over soft skin.
“One kiss.” She bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire. “No one has ever asked to kiss me. It usually just happens. We’re talking on the couch or lying on the bed and then our faces move closer and I know we’re going to kiss. My heart starts to pound in anticipation and I hold my breath and . . .”
“Shhhh.” He slid his hand around her neck and pushed himself up so he could clearly see her face.
“Is it now?” she whispered.
“Yes. It’s now.” He kissed her gently, softly, pressing his lips against the soft bow of her mouth. Everything stilled, the sounds of the emergency room fading away beneath the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. With a sigh, she opened to him, stealing his breath with the slow sweep of her tongue. Abandoning himself to the sweetness of her mouth, he pulled her on top of him, palms skimming her lush curves, fingers sinking into the silk of her hair. Her scent, the soft moans and panting breaths, the tremble of her body, the white-hot heat that blazed between them. It was too much and not enough. He understood now why his mother had asked for the promise. A lifetime of these kisses was far better than being alone.
“Blood work.” An amused voice froze the blood in his veins.
Zara stiffened and slid to the side, burying her face in his shoulder. Somewhere in his lust-soaked brain he remembered that they were in a hospital and that he’d come here for a reason, although he couldn’t recall exactly what that was.
“Well, that was fun.” Zara pushed herself up after the nurse had taken another vial of blood. Mercifully, she hadn’t said anything about their lapse of judgment. “I feel like I’ve just been caught making out with the high school quarterback in my parents’ basement.”
Jay tightened his arm around her when she moved to leave. “Where are you going?”
“I think it might be better if I sit chastely on a chair at the other side of your cubicle because if we keep doing what we were doing things might not end well for either of us.”
His chest puffed with pride. “I am an exceptionally good kisser.”
“I give you a B-plus.”
“Are you kidding me?” His voice rose in pitch.
“I can’t give you an A.” She lay back beside him, her head on his chest. “You’d have nothing to strive for.”
“Maybe I should try again right now.” He touched her face, cupped her jaw in his palm.
“One kiss.” She gently moved his hand away.
“One kiss.” Jay smoothed back her hair, listening to the rhythm of her breaths. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. Content. So damn right.
“Jay?”
“Yes?”
“The day we met on the paintball field, would you ever have imagined we’d be here?”
He chuckled, amused. “In a hospital because I fell trying to get away from you? It wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.”
She pushed herself up on one arm and glared. “That’s not what I meant. Would you have imagined we would ever kiss?”
“No,” he said honestly. “I thought you were the most irritating woman I’d ever met. Also, you shot me in the ass. It didn’t scream romance.”
“I thought the same about you.” She lay down again, her palm resting on his chest. “Yet here we are.”
“Indeed.” She’d crashed into his life like a hurricane and damned if he could let her go.
He heard his name in the distance. A murmured conversation. The thud of boots and the squeak of leather.
“Jay.” His mother walked into the cubicle dressed in head-to-toe black leather, a motorcycle helmet in her hand. “What happened? Are you okay? Rick and I were out for a midnight ride when I got a call from the hospital because I’m listed as your emergency contact. He’s just parking the bike.”
Zara jerked up and rolled off the bed, landing in a squat on the floor. She pulled herself up and straightened, a stiff smile on her face.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I had a fall at work and I came as a precaution.”
“I’m Zara.” She held out her hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Tarun’s wedding. I was on the floor. With the head . . .”
Jay’s mother shot him a sideways glance, her lips tipping at the corners. “I do remember you. It’s not every day I see my Jay rolling around on the floor during a wedding.”
“We weren’t rolling around, Mom,” he gritted out. “We fell.”
“I brought Jay to the hospital,” Zara said quickly as if sensing the rising tension. “He didn’t want to come, but he hit his head pretty hard on a cauldron, so I thought he should get it checked out.”
“A cauldron?”
“Zara is a matchmaker. She’s helping me find someone to fulfill my promise to you. In return, I offered to introduce her to a few celebrities. We were at a movie wrap party tonight so she could meet one of the actors.”
“Zombies.” Zara held out her arms and lurched forward. “It was the bomb.”
His mother gave a snort of laughter, her eyes glistening with amusement. “It sounds like fun.”
“It was work,” Jay snapped, inexplicably irritated that his mother and Zara had bonded over his humiliating accident. “There was nothing fun about it.”
He could see he’d been too harsh when Zara froze mid-lurch, a pained expression on her face.
“It looks like you’re in good hands, so I’d better get going.” She grabbed her bag and gave his mom a half smile. “It was nice to see you again.”
Before he could apologize, she pushed aside the curtain and walked away. Mouth agape, Jay could only stare at her departing form.
“I really like her,” his mother said.
Jay liked her, too. So why had he pushed her away?
• 15 •
It wasn’t easy to find potential matches for Jay in a hotel ballroom that held over five hundred guests, but after four days of radio silence, and having convinced herself that a kiss was just a kiss, Zara was up to the task.
“His name is Jay Dayal.” Zara crouched beside Mara Bedi and her mother and flashed a picture of Jay that she’d scraped off his website. “He was a captain in the air force and now he’s the CEO of a successful security company. He’s tall, very fit, intelligent, and well educated. He owns a condo and a car. No pets. No siblings. No family but—”
“No family?” Mara’s mother shook her head.
“It’s just him and his mom.” A mom she’d barely had a chance to meet because she’d been so spooked by her sudden arrival. What had she been thinking? She was supposed to be finding Jay a match, not seducing him when he was lying injured and vulnerable in a hospital bed. His mother must have been appalled by her behavior, and Zara couldn’t blame her. At least she’d been able to put some distance between them and get her head back in the matchmaking game. But despite her best efforts, things weren’t going to plan.
“I’m sure he’s a nice boy, but marriage is about family,” Mrs. Bedi said. “Without family he’s not—”
“Of course. I understand.” Zara stood quickly, trying to fight yet another inexplicable surge of relief. Three attempts. Three failures. Her matchmaking mojo was off. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, something had changed after their kiss, and it was making it almost impossible for her to hold up her end of the deal.
She walked away, her legs stiff beneath her soft net ivory lehenga. She’d decided to go full scandal by wearing a long, white, layered chiffon skirt and a sleeveless red embroidered choli with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, baring an auntie-gasping expanse of middle. An arm full of bangles, giant silver and red earrings, and a thick matching choker completed the look along with a sparkly pair of red stilettos.
