The Dating Plan(33)



“Did you seriously just say that to me?” he teased.

Daisy had dared him to do lots of things over the years, from jumping off the roof to hiding under Sanjay’s bed, and he’d never failed to do them.

“I didn’t say it,” she snapped. “I texted it.”

“Since you’re so quick with the texts, you could have provided me with a little help when I was negotiating the price of my sherwani. I can’t believe how badly Deepa tried to rip me off.”

“Are you sulking?” She stared at him, incredulous. “The big venture capitalist who just closed the company’s fourth fund at $350 million is sulking because he was bested at negotiating the purchase of a traditional Indian wedding outfit for a fake wedding that will last ten minutes by a frail sixty-year-old woman for whom English is a second language?”

“She wasn’t frail.” Liam hadn’t given much thought to what he would wear for their quick civil ceremony. Good Irish boys wore a three-piece suit or a tux to their wedding with a green cravat or tie and maybe the addition of gold harp cuff links. But he’d never been a good Irish boy—at least not according to his father—and although the marriage was a sham, he liked the idea of honoring Daisy’s culture. The sword was just a bonus.

“What are you going to have?” Daisy asked as they approached the cashier. “I recommend the dosas and uthapams. The upma is a little bland, but the idli, vada, sambar, and chutneys are all good. The kesari is quite good, too, if you want sweet instead of spicy.”

“I’ll have the pork vindaloo. Extra hot.” He puffed out his chest. He’d acquired a taste for Indian food after the years he’d spent sharing meals at the Patel home, although he hadn’t had food as good in many years.

“It’s too hot for me the way they make it,” Daisy said. “I wouldn’t even consider asking them to raise the heat.”

“I ate at your house every night and your dad made his curry extra hot. I miss that burn.”

Daisy’s lips quirked at the corners. “He said it was extra hot so he didn’t crush your ego, but in fact he kept the heat down when you were around. What he called ‘extra hot’ is actually a restaurant mild. His real extra hot would blow your mind.”

“You don’t scare me,” Liam said. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“Stubborn and ungrateful.” Daisy smirked. “I’m going to enjoy listening to your screams of pain.”

“Is that your idea of a good date? Screams of pain?”

She smiled, amused. “I don’t date often. I usually just hook up with someone for the night. Orson was an unfortunate aberration that happened when I was feeling emotionally fragile after Layla and Sam got engaged.”

They reached the cash desk and Daisy placed her order with the cashier, a young woman of around eighteen with long, straight dark hair.

“So you hook up with strangers?” Liam asked in a hushed whisper as the cashier rang up their order. “Were you with someone last night?”

“Yes. His name is Max.” She pulled out her phone. “I have a selfie of us together.” She held it up for the cashier to see, keeping the screen away from Liam’s line of vision.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” the cashier said. “He’s got the nicest eyes.”

“Let me see.” Liam felt his protective instincts rise. “Who is he? Max who?”

“He doesn’t have a last name.”

“Jesus Christ, Daisy,” he spluttered. “Does Sanjay know you do this? What about your dad?”

“They know all about Max,” Daisy said. “In fact, my dad took a picture of us cuddled together in bed the night before he left on his trip, and the cutest one of Max on my pillow. I bought Max some pajamas but he refused to wear them. He likes to sleep au naturel.”

Bile rose in Liam’s throat. “And your dad took . . . pictures?”

“Photography is his new hobby. He took some great shots when I was giving Max a bath . . .”

“Stop.” Liam held up a hand. “Just . . . I can’t. I don’t know what’s happened to you, but it ends now. We’re engaged and that means no more random hookups, no pornographic pictures, and no flashing pictures of strangers in the nude.”

“Amina doesn’t mind. She’s my second cousin.” Daisy introduced them before turning her phone around. “And this is Max.”

Liam was a heartbeat away from shutting his eyes when his brain registered the picture of a fluffy white dog on a pink duvet.

His tension left him in a rush. “Max is a dog.”

“He’s a Westie. Layla got him for me as an emotional support dog at a bad time in my life.”

Liam bit back the urge to ask Daisy about a time so bad she’d needed extra love. It was her business, and he could only hope she would tell him when she was ready so he could offer his support. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Amina and I were amused.”

“I heard you were engaged.” Amina’s gaze flicked to Liam and she blushed. “He’s almost as cute as Max.” They had a brief conversation in Urdu that Liam couldn’t follow, but from the way Amina’s eyes kept shifting his way, he knew it was about him.

“You should add some raita,” Daisy suggested when Liam handed his credit card to Amina. “Maybe two or three bowls—yogurt and cucumber are the perfect way to soothe the burn.”

Sara Desai's Books