Accidentally Engaged(51)
And now she’d slept with one of them.
She pushed away the feeling of impending doom and squeezed him playfully. “And now that you know I’m not what they sold you, you don’t want to marry me anymore?”
His other arm snaked around her and pulled her on top of him again. “No. I don’t.” He buried his head in her neck and inhaled. “I’ve been restless for a long time,” he said. “Actually, restless is the wrong word. I was too busy to realize how bored I was. Too many people around to realize how lonely I felt. But then you came along and turned everything upside down.” He smiled. “I’m not sure about the future. But I am sure about the present.” He pulled her head up and kissed her gently. “And all I want right now is to make you happy.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. Reena lost herself in the perfect embrace. He pulled back again. “You’re unexpected, Reena Manji. Never unmemorable.” He kissed her again, before murmuring against her lips. “Twelve boyfriends?” he asked, smiling. “Is it too unlucky to try for a thirteenth? Am I doomed to fail?”
She shook her head. “Thirteen is a baker’s dozen. The extra one always tastes the sweetest.” She kissed him again.
“We still can’t tell our families,” she said as they broke apart again. Not when Mum wanted to start wedding planning and Dad wanted her to report back everything she learned about his new mentee. They wouldn’t understand simply dating Nadim with no plans for a future. There was a reason why Reena stopped telling them about her dating life by the time she was twenty-seven—that was the arbitrary age when every conversation about men turned into interrogations about his marriage prospects. Reena couldn’t see where this would go naturally without keeping her families out of it.
“We’ll create a bubble in this place, just you and me,” he said.
She kissed him again, letting herself sink into a replay of their earlier entertainments, but a thought invaded her mind at the same time. As a bread baker, she knew a thing or two about bubbles. The glorious pockets of air captured in bread dough that made it rise were not as delicate as they looked, so long as the dough had a well-developed gluten foundation. Without the foundation, the bubbles would deflate when exposed to the heat of an oven.
She really hoped their foundation was strong enough to keep their bubble.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After finally emerging from his bedroom, Reena was delighted to learn that her new boyfriend was a pretty good cook. The shrimp was perfectly cooked, even if the pasta wasn’t quite as al dente as she usually preferred. And as she suspected, the bread was good, too. After they ate, they sat on his couch to watch the Home Cooking Showdown videos together.
They’d seen their own clip, of course. But watching it with the other seven couples’ videos confirmed three things to Reena. One, as a fake couple they had more chemistry than most of these real couples. Two, FoodTV wasn’t kidding when they said they were looking for diverse contestants. There were three same-sex married couples, including one where both men were unfortunately named Jeff, and half the pairings had one or two people of color in them. Reena and Nadim weren’t even the only Muslim pairing. And three, Shayne and Marley were geniuses. Because Nadim and Reena were lit better, dressed better, and edited better than all the other videos.
There was no question in Reena’s mind, with only two contestants being eliminated this round, that they had a definite shot at moving on. And now that they were a real couple instead of a fake one (although not engaged), their chemistry might be even better in round two. Reena could practically hear the crack of the baguette crust she’d be making in that course.
“How do we know how we’re doing?” Nadim asked after they had voted for themselves. Because who else would they vote for?
“We don’t. They’ll show the number of votes next week. And if we’re not eliminated, we’ll have a few days to upload the next video.”
He snorted. “We won’t be eliminated. My money for the next round is on us, the hijabi woman and her daughter, that couple from Hamilton, the Jeffs, and the Jamaicans.”
Reena giggled. “Six groups move on. That’s only five.”
“And that’s why we have this in the bag. There is no way we’re in the bottom two. I would tell everyone I know to vote for us, but we don’t need the help. Not with you cooking, anyway.”
Reena grinned. He was right. They had this round. No question about it.
*
Reena was surprised to see her father at her door Saturday morning, a scant half hour after Nadim had left her apartment for yet another meeting with a restaurant developer.
She had assumed that after Nadim told his father he wouldn’t be marrying Reena, Shiroz Remtulla would call her father about their children’s abject failure at uniting the families. And, of course, Dad would want to confront her on it. But she wasn’t expecting a parental house call.
“Dad. This is a surprise.”
“Why would you be surprised? I am your father.” Dad strolled in and stood near the breakfast bar like he owned the place. Which was fair—he did.
“Would you like some…coffee? Chai? Breakfast?”
“Just coffee.” He sat at the high stool.
“It’s cold brew, but I can heat it up.”