Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(47)

“Oh. Uh, thank you,” Prem said.

“And Prem?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Kareena has her own mind, but she’s softer than people think.”

Well, that was unexpected. It sounded like Rina’s father was giving him his blessings. “Thank you, sir.”

The man held up his empty whiskey glass and moved to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room, officially dismissing Prem.

With all thoughts on Kareena, Prem scanned the room for his friends. Bunty had finally returned, and both he and Deepak were eating together, surrounded by aunties. Bobbi was scowling in Bunty’s direction, and Veera was playing chess in the corner with one of the other uncles.

Now was his chance. He kept his head down and stayed close to the wall until he slipped out the sliding door and into the backyard.

Two seconds later, he was crossing the deck. It was muggy and humid outside. The sound of insects buzzing and crickets singing echoed in the night as he stepped into the grass. The lights were on in the shed, and the doors appeared to be open.

Anticipation curled up inside Prem with the realization that he’d be alone with Kareena for the first time since he’d arrived. He paused a few feet from the doors when he saw a glint of silver at his feet. He reached down to pick up a single payal with three bells at the end.

He’d wondered about the chiming sound coming from Kareena’s outfit. He pocketed the anklet and continued his way to the shed.

“Kareena?” he called out, and pushed the double doors open wider.

She lay on the hood of the Beamer, resting against the windshield. Her brightly colored lehenga skirt fanned across the hood, and her bare feet with painted pink toes peeked out at the hem. He could see the curve of her thighs, her belly, and the swell of her breasts like an outline that he desperately wanted to trace.

With his mouth.

Prem cleared his throat. “You escaped early.”

Kareena’s head rolled to the side so she could look at him. “I reached my quota of bullshit. And also, my grandmother traumatized me by pulling out a vibrator from a kitchen drawer and using it as a neck massager.”

“Holy shit, where was I?” He would’ve paid money to see Kareena handle that mess.

“You were in the living room, talking to Dinesh Uncle, I think.”

He turned to look at the house across the yard. It was a beautiful home and lit up like Diwali.

“It’s nice of your dad to offer the house up for the party. All the Shah Rukh Khan stuff is weird as hell, but I get it. Themed party.”

Kareena hummed. “My mother used to do that, too. Themed parties. She was a lot better at it though. She loved having people over. That’s one of the reasons why she wanted a big house.”

“Is that why you love it, too?”

“Over the years, decorating the home for company became something my mother and I shared. We’d also do these renovation projects together, like painting rooms or adding shelving. When she died, I continued that legacy. I’ve also redone the bathrooms myself, wallpapered the laundry room, and redesigned the landscaping.”

“What’s your favorite room?” he asked.

“This shed,” she said. “This is an add-on, and it feels uniquely mine, but it’s part of what my mother started here.”

Prem motioned to the car. It was all making sense and coming together now. “You’re a fixer. The car, the house, the job, everything.”

“Except my love life, apparently,” she muttered. She shifted, and her chest rose and fell. That undone button at the top captured his attention.

“That Instagram post is more trouble than you can imagine,” Kareena continued, unaware of his fragmenting concentration. “I had this dumb fantasy when I was growing up. I’d pull into the driveway in my E30, walk in through the front door, and embrace my family. The home that my mother built would be the home that I’d create. But I’m thirty now, and I’m asking a bunch of gossiping desi women to help me because I’m that desperate.”

Prem pulled at his kurta collar that began to stick to his skin from the heat. Despite the weather, he pushed the shed doors closed so that only a sliver of light peeked through. “I may not believe in love marriages, Rina, honey, but if you believe in them, then you should have it. Wait as long as you want for the right person to come along.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Even if you think it’s stupid?”

“Even then.”

“That’s a lie that I can get behind.”

Ouch. He moved to the front of the car and pulled the payal from his pocket. “You dropped something,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow, and after hesitating, she fisted her lehenga fabric in one hand and pulled it up slowly to expose her ankles. Then her calf and finally her knee.

Desire shot straight to Prem’s groin as he watched Kareena expose inch by golden brown inch. Charlie threatened to poke a hole through his pants, he was so turned on. If that’s how she wanted to play this, he was game.

Tracing a fingertip over the top of her foot, he touched the delicate lines of her ankle and enjoyed her shiver. “I didn’t get to touch this yet,” he murmured.

Prem urged her to bend her knee so the sole of her foot rested against the car hood before he wrapped the payal in place and fastened the ends together. The bells fell against her ankle joint, and he flicked them once to hear the sweet chime. Then, without warning, he ran a hand up the length of her leg under her skirt, gripped her thigh, and pulled.