Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace) (30 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

Tyler

I had wanted to talk to Pree when she called, but damn it, I was swamped at work. Which meant I had to work late again while my thoughts kept derailing because of her. Maybe I’d been dreaming, but had she finally come to her senses?

I released a ragged breath and hurried up the steps at the apartment complex. I knocked on her door. Vicki answered.

“Where’s Pree?” I asked in a rush, ready to barge in. “I’ve been calling her and she hasn’t answered.”

Vicki gave a sympathetic smile. “It’s fine. She went out.”

“I’ve been dying to talk to her, I just didn’t have time when she called.” I shoved my fingers through my hair.

“It was bad timing. She understands.”

“Does she think I don’t want her back?”

“She doesn’t know what to think. You’ve been MIA for a while. Why haven’t you called me or Raj back?” Vicki crossed her arms and tapped a foot, a deep scowl on her face.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen. Sorry. But Pree
is
my world. No matter what we did, as long as she gives us a chance, there will always be an ‘us.’”

“And did you say that to her over the phone?”

“I wasn’t expecting her call. I was stunned, especially with the timing and being at work—immersed in my deadline.”

“I think Priya left something for you in your apartment.”

“Did she trash my place? I don’t care unless that means she hates me.”

Vicki shook her head, but her lips trembled as she hid a smile. My heart raced. What had Pree done that made Vicki keep quiet when she obviously wanted to blurt something out?

I raced down the hall. Tentatively pushing the door open, I stepped over the threshold. The completely unexpected scene floored me. Every manly, leather, granite, wood surface was covered with carnations and little envelopes.

I walked inside. The place smelled like fresh-cut flowers. I opened an envelope and unfolded the note inside. It said:

Reason: I love that you care so much.

My chest tingled with warmth.

I opened another.

Reason: I love that you never give up.

And another.

Reason: I love that your eyes sparkle when you smile.

One after another as I went from the living room, the dining room, the kitchen—picking a few here and there.

Reason: I love your laugh.

Reason: I love how you sound first thing in the morning.

Reason: I love that you wear plaid.

I chuckled at that one because I was wearing plaid right now.

Reason: I love how smart you are.

Reason: I love how you feel against me.

Reason: I love how your hair curls when it gets too long.

Reason: I love how you love your family.

Reason: I love your nobility.

Reason: I love that you know me well enough to get me in with
BSG
. And that you
’
re not threatened that I might fall for Apollo.

I laughed out loud and peeked into the bedroom to see if she had desecrated more of my manliness with flowers, though I hoped to see more notes.

I paused at the door. What I saw was more precious, worth a million reasons to live.

Pree sat on the edge of the bed in a short plaid skirt and green top. Her long hair was down and billowed around her in loose curls. She crossed her legs, exposing a lot of caramel thigh, and wiggled a foot covered in a sexy, strappy heel. She looked up at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes and hinted a cautious half-smile, as if she doubted my reaction.

I glided toward her as she stood. She didn’t even have to take a step before I was a few inches from her, towering over her.

“Reason: I love how you’re almost a head shorter than me,” I said.

“I should’ve told you before I left. I’m sorry. I called off the engagement when I got home from the hospital. I should’ve done so many things differently. I didn’t know how to handle everything—the expectations and consequences.”

“It’s in the past.”

She looked around. “This is kind of cheesy, right?”

My eyes never left her. “Cheesy is good. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

“It was your idea.”

“No girl has even given me flowers, and now my entire apartment is filled with them.”

“I couldn’t get a thousand and one flowers.”

“That would’ve been something to see.” I plucked a carnation from the bed, a smirk on my lips as I caressed her cheek with the petals.

Her lashes fluttered and I dragged the flower down her lips, her neck, her chest. Her breath hitched.

“Do you forgive me?” she whispered.

I leaned into her. My lips brushed hers when I replied, “Is my bachelor pad covered in flowers and love notes?”

Her full lips, glistening with pink gloss, spread into a wide smile. She gripped my shirt and said, “I love you, Ty. I want to be with you forever, no matter what.”

“I don’t think I heard you.”

“I. Love. You. Forever.”

I brushed my lips against hers, my free hand pressing her hip. “Again.”

She draped her arms around my neck and pulled me into her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, babe.”

“And you forgive me?”

“You should forgive me.”

“What?”

“I doubted you.”

“You had every reason to.”

“It was my mistake to have ever doubted you, and I’ll never make that mistake again.”

“Just say you forgive me,” she begged. “I need to hear you say it, to know you mean it.”

“I’ll always forgive you. Just don’t let this happen again,” I teased.

She closed her eyes in relief. When she reopened them, she replied in a serious tone, “Then you better not leave me alone with Apollo when we go to Comic-Con.”

I laughed, and she smiled. I looked at the bed covered with flowers and notes. “I’ve never slept on a bed of flowers.”

Pree turned me and gently pushed me onto the bed. She straddled my hips and picked up an envelope.

I laid back and stroked the silky skin of her thighs and watched her as she opened one note after another and read aloud a few of the thousand and one reasons why she loved me. When she couldn’t reach any notes near her knees, she reached over my head and picked a few more.

She fiddled with the straps to her shoes. I stopped her. “What are you doing?” I asked in a daze.

“Taking my shoes off so I can get the notes from across the bed.”

“Leave them on.”

“I’ll get germs in your bed.”

I slid my hands from her ankles, up her bent legs, as I raised myself and kissed her. “Reason: I love how insanely sexy you look in heels.”

I shifted her onto her side and draped her leg over my thigh. I savored how she felt, so smooth and soft. I tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered, “
Hum tane prem karu chu.
”

Pree stared at me. “What?”

I grinned. “Are you surprised?”

“Yes. I mean, Papa said you’d learned Gujarati and Hindi, but why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

“Me knowing those languages doesn’t mean anything to you. It meant a hell of a lot to your parents.”

“You learned my languages for them?”

I nodded. “How do I sound?”

“Perfect,” she said, her eyes glistening.

“I never just wanted to be with you, Pree, I wanted to be a part of your life, which meant getting your parents’ approval.”

“No wonder you impressed Papa. Say something else.”

The corner of my mouth quirked up. I picked another carnation off the bed, letting it glide over parts of her bare flesh. She shivered. I enjoyed watching ripple after ripple of goose bumps change her skin.

I gently spoke, softly sang a famous Bollywood song that Pree loved…and I did it in perfect Hindi.

Pree gasped. “Ty!”

I sang a few more lyrics about traversing obstacles and oppositions to declare true love the winner over all.

She kissed me. “Mummie would’ve loved you! That was her favorite song. It always made her cry.”

I wiped away her fallen tear before it slid down her cheek. I cradled her against me and continued to sing about how love made a man strong enough to move celestial bodies and how every feat, no matter how grueling, was worth the goal.

The last lyric of the hook raised the question, “Darling, is this my first and true love?”

Pree hugged me tight. “Yes. First that’ll last forever.”

I kissed the top of her head. “And like the sun, the moon, the rotation of the earth, and all the stars and constellations that remind me of you, my love for you will never stop. No matter what hits us, I promise you. Our love will never. Ever. Stop.”

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Priya in Heels Glossary:

Auntie:
A term of respect for an Indian woman old enough to be one’s mother.

Ba:
Grandmother or a term of respect for an Indian woman old enough to be one’s grandmother.

Ben:
Suffix added to names to signify “sister.”

Beta:
Son or term of endearment for a boy, as in “darling.”

Beti:
Daughter or term of endearment for a girl, as in “darling.”

Bhaat:
Rice.

Bhai:
Suffix added to names to signify “brother.”

Bollywood:
Indian cinematic movies, usually in Hindi, and normally with several song/dance numbers.

Cha:
Gujarati for chai: a mixture of water, milk, loose Indian black tea, sugar, and sometimes additional herbs or spices.

Chaniya:
An embroidered skirt.

Choli:
An embroidered bodice that typically displays the midriff.

Chutney:
Condiment similar to salsa, with an array of ingredients, flavors, and textures.

Dada:
Grandfather or a term of respect for an Indian man old enough to be one’s grandfather.

Dabeli:
Mashed potatoes mixed with Indian spices sandwiched between a sliced roll with both sweet and spicy chutney. A popular Indian street food.

Dhal:
Lentil soup with spices.

Desi:
Of south Asian origin.

Diya:
Miniature lamp made with twisted cotton as a wick and ghee as oil.

Dupatta:
Shawl used when wearing a
salwar kameez
or
lengha
.

Foi:
Father’s sister.

Fua:
Father’s sister’s husband.

Ghee:
Clarified butter.

Gujarati:
The language and people from the northwestern state of Gujarat in India.

Halwa:
An aromatic sweet with nuts.

Hum tane prem karu chu:
Gujarati for “I love you.”

Kurta:
A long tunic worn by men over pajama-like pants.

Lengha:
A formal attire that consists of a bodice, a long, embroidered skirt, and a
dupatta
.

Mandir:
Hindu temple.

Mangalsutra:
A gold and black necklace worn by married women to indicate their marriage status, similar to a wedding band.

Mantra:
A repetitive hymn of prayer often sung during worship.

Mathiya:
Thin, fried wafers of spicy dough.

Mama:
Mother’s brother.

Mami:
Mother’s brother’s wife.

Mehndi:
A paste derived from the henna plant used to create artistic reddish-brown stains on the hands and feet for ceremonies. Also known as henna.

Mummie:
Mother.

Nastho:
Breakfast or snacks usually comprised of fried puffed rice, lentils, peanuts, and spices.

Papa:
Father.

Pajama:
Pants or leggings worn under a man’s kurta.

Puja:
Hindu ritual worship involving idols, prayer, candles, and food offering.

Puri:
Fried miniature wheat tortillas.

Rickshaw:
Small, motorized, three-wheeled vehicle used as a cab and comfortably sits three people, including the driver.

Salwar Kameez:
Article of clothing involving a knee-length tunic, pajama pants or leggings, and a shawl.

Sari:
A five- to seven-yard length of material elegantly wrapped around a woman over a skirt and bodice, often embroidered.

Shaak:
Curried vegetables.

Sweets:
Sweet confections with a range of ingredients, spices, and shapes, used as standard gifts for celebrations, offerings, and occasional snacks.

Uncle:
A tern of respect for an Indian man old enough to be one’s father.

Yaar:
Slang term similar to dude.

Zari: Thread made of gold or silver (modernly mixed with yarn) used in traditional garments like saris.