by JB Schroeder
She nodded, then her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, no. I have to change my sign. Out front.”
“You ordered one? You said you couldn’t decide.”
“I couldn’t, but I was afraid of it not being ready in time. I placed the order today,” she said. “I went with the simple san serif font, figuring it’d be safer in the long run. But the other one, the one with some flair—the one I really liked—would be a much better match for your art.”
“Creating more of a theme.”
She nodded. “A brand. I’m sure they haven’t started the sign yet. I’ll call them.” She swatted him. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tonight.” He chuckled. “I was going to talk you into dinner out tonight and swing you by there on the way. But I’m glad you saw it first. Teasing you was way more fun.”
“You, Jonah Walker, will pay for that.”
“Gladly,” he said, and hoped he’d be anteing up some of those dues very, very soon.
Kalpani had never invited a man to her place, but she invited Jonah. The man had created a spot-on, gorgeous work of art just for her. The least she could do was feed him a good meal of her mother’s bhartha and channa. Kalpani could make the dishes, of course, but she couldn’t quite attain the perfection her mother managed so easily.
As it turned out, they didn’t eat first. Both of them were primed to touch after he’d halted their romp last weekend and then they’d spent so much time together all week. The sex was—in short—astounding. The food hadn’t suffered for waiting, either.
Like every other time she spent with Jonah, Kalpani didn’t want it to be over. The little town of True Spring’s silly legend crossed her mind. She and Jonah had both drunk the water, but— No. She shook her head. That was just ridiculousness. What did hold some weight, however, was Darcy’s reasonable take on dating. Kalpani considered this, then threw the last of her reservations out the window, and invited Jonah to stay the night.
“I’ll let my mom know,” Jonah said.
Kalpani looked at the clock. They’d just finished the dishes, but it was eleven p.m. “Won’t she be sleeping?” She hated for Rita to think badly of her. Her own parents would be truly horrified. She often pushed them to be more American and more twenty-first century about so many things—not that they listened, but even she felt uncomfortable about this.
“If she wakes in the night, realizes I’m not there, and starts to worry? I don’t want to do that to her,” Jonah said.
“Are you going to tell her where you’re staying?”
He laughed. “She’s been pushing me to ask you out since the wedding, and she knows we’ve spent time together this week. She’d have a fit if I led her to believe I was anywhere else.”
“Maybe you should just go home.”
Jonah laughed. “You don’t get to take back that invite.” He pulled her to him, and his hard length pressed into her belly. She looked up at him, shaking her head, but he bent and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.
When she’d nearly forgotten about the necessary phone call, he said, “It’ll be fine, promise.”
Rita answered his call right away. He told her, “I’m going to stay at Kalpani’s.”
He shook his head at something Rita said, then mouthed, Condoms, at Kalpani.
Horrified, she pressed her hands to her eyes.
Sleeping curled into Jonah all night was worth it, and soon that became part of their new routine as well.
Darcy had been right—when Kalpani stopped projecting, it felt easy. It felt right.
A couple of weeks went by in this manner. They both had work and obligations, but they saw each other most evenings and spent most nights together at her place. Neither had to be up especially early, and mornings became a special time together, too—sometimes lazily exploring each other in bed, sometimes making breakfast or grabbing a quick bite together before a morning workout. He ran or played ball with his brothers, and she went to yoga or sometimes took a long walk along one of the river paths.
Xanadu was due to open next week, but it became clear that the contractor was going to be hard-pressed to finish every detail in time. She walked around Xanadu creating a list. He’d begun painting, but also needed to install knobs on the cabinetry and the hardware in the bathrooms, the kick plates in front of every chair, and the shelving in the cabinets and storeroom. Plus, they had to have final inspections, get the security system installed—
Oh, Durga—the list went on and on and was overwhelming.
She threw the pen and pad on the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Jonah massaged her shoulders, and she heaved out a breath.
It was Thursday, and Xanadu’s grand opening was next Wednesday, March eighteenth—less than a week for absolutely everything to be completed, stocked, and cleaned. Kalpani tried not to freak out.
“There’s simply not enough time to get it all done. There’s not much choice,” she said. “The upstairs painting will have to wait. Still, I’m afraid it will be weeks before Lou can come back. He’s already got most of his guys on another project.”
“You and I could paint up there,” Jonah said. “Maybe he could knock something off your grand total.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, considering. “You’d do that?”
“Of course.”
Kalpani had already given notice at her other salon and allowed herself a week off between to make sure she was organized, ready, and could deal with any last-minute problems. So, she had the time, and this certainly qualified.
“That could work. I want those upstairs rooms usable. And if you and I were both painting, it would go pretty fast.”
As it turned out, they worked as well together on a painting project as they did in bed.
On Sunday, when they were punchy and starving, but nearly finished—only the second coat with rollers to finish in the last room—Kalpani looked up at Jonah and laughed.
“You have paint in your hair again.” He was so flipping sexy in a fitted t-shirt and paint-speckled sweatpants that sat low on his hips.
He did another few strokes, then set his roller in the pan and climbed off the ladder. “That’s nothing,” he said. “You have it under your shirt.”
“What? Where?”
He nodded and spun her around, lifting up her t-shirt in the back. “When you were bent over, I could see it.” He circled it with one warm fingertip.
“Mmm, and here I thought you were looking at my butt.”
“Oh, I was.” He gave her tush a squeeze. “All that wiggling has been drawing my eye.”
She laughed, and he stepped in to kiss her. She looped her arms around his neck.
“Put that roller down first.”
She laughed. “Oops.”
She returned her roller to her pan, and then he advanced on her.
“I take it you need a break.”
“There’s a distraction calling me.”
She smiled and stepped into him. “I suppose drop cloths could serve a dual purpose.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
And “oops” was right. When she pulled his t-shirt off him and ran her hands up his muscled back to his shoulders, she realized she’d dripped so much mauve paint on him that it’d soaked right through to his skin.
“We have to be fast,” she said. “The paint…” But Jonah was already kissing her, with his big hands roaming over her skin.
“Not a problem,” he murmured into her neck. “There’s never a time I don’t already want you.”
17
Jonah brought a nice bottle of wine to Kalpani’s, along with some takeout Italian.
“To Xanadu’s grand opening,” Jonah said, raising his wine glass to Kalpani’s in the privacy of her apartment. “May your salon be everything you dreamed.”
“Cheers.” Kalpani wore a huge smile, although Jonah knew she’d been running on adrenaline and nerves.
Their dinner conversation centered entirely on Xan
adu, as it should on this momentous night. Everything had come together. The painting was done, the art he’d made for her was hung and looked right at home, and the sign she’d ordered had been mounted outside. The cushions for the built-in seating in the front window were in place, the stock of fancy hair products sat on the shelves ready for purchase, and magazines were even fanned out on the low tables.
Jonah had met a few of her stylists and assistants, because they’d been in Monday and Tuesday for training and bonding. Between her and the stylists, Xanadu had quite a few clients scheduled already. Kalpani’s payment system worked—he’d bought some seriously stiff hair gel to prove it. She’d ordered balloons for outside and savory nibbles and sweets to make the grand opening special, and she and her staff would toast with champagne right before opening the doors. She even had a visit from a local reporter scheduled.
God forbid the reporter wanted a full tour, though. “I still wish I’d gotten out of your space upstairs on time,” Jonah said. They were finished eating, and he corked the wine.
“I told you, it’s fine,” Kalpani said. “I haven’t found the right massage therapist yet anyway.” She’d graciously offered for him to stay another couple of months.
She noticed his discomfort and came around the little dining table in her apartment to sit on his lap. “I’m sure if I hadn’t kept you so busy painting and other things”—she winked—“you’d have had more time to look for studio space.”
“Those other things definitely took priority.” He’d put off any timeline if it meant more time with Kalpani, in or out of bed. Jonah settled her across his thighs right where he wanted her. She was so small that she weighed next to nothing, but somehow they fit together perfectly.
She wriggled and kissed him. He slid his hand up her shirt, gratified when her nipples perked into his fingers. But he didn’t let it go too far. It was important for her to turn in early tonight, so he smoothed her shirt back down and leaned his forehead against hers.
“I’m going,” he said. She didn’t know it, but he also had his own agenda to keep tonight.
They made quick work of the dishes, and he kissed her thoroughly once more to make it last. He’d make himself scarce tomorrow, not even slipping up the back stairs to work. He wanted her to just be able to do her thing.
“I don’t know how I’m going to sleep,” she said. “I just know I forgot something or—”
“Shh. It’s going to be great.”
Jonah left, smiling to himself. He knew at least one thing Kalpani had forgotten: business cards. Luckily, he’d realized it with time to create some on the sly. He’d matched the wording on her sign, combined it with a bit from the art he’d created, and added Xanadu’s information and her name with the word owner. He figured if she liked them, he could do them for each stylist to keep at their station. If she didn’t, she could just tell him what she wanted, and he’d go at it again.
He drove to the Strip District and was relieved that he could still park behind the shop. Tonight was Saint Patty’s Day, and the Strip was jammed with drunk partygoers who’d been at it since happy hour. Jonah got a kick out of the revelry, but this year, he was perfectly happy not to be participating.
The weeks since Jeremy’s wedding had been so great. He’d been surprised when the one-night-only mandate Kalpani had set out had naturally evolved into actually being exclusive. They hadn’t talked that through, but that was the case. Maybe because it had happened so naturally, maybe because he hadn’t pushed her, maybe because he’d let her come to him… Who knew? Maybe it was just meant to be.
He’d recently done a lot of thinking about what he wanted from a relationship. And he wanted what his parents had had, and what both Jake and Jeremy appeared to have found. Love and passion, of course, but also a true partnership—enhanced by mutual respect, admiration, and commitment.
He and Kalpani were on that path. He was sure of it. He’d never felt as drawn to a person, and the more time they spent together and the better he got to know her, the more he felt they had something real and solid.
Jonah looked at the shop. All vestiges of Sohel’s Print & Ship were gone. He wasn’t bitter, or even wistful. He was glad Kalpani was the new owner, and that he’d been a part of it. Exiting the car, he grabbed the brown gift bag for Kalpani. In addition to the box of business cards, he’d purchased a cool, hand-crafted card holder from a local artisan.
He put his key in the lock, turned it and the handle, and pushed open the door. A beeping and flashing came from the wall near his left shoulder.
“Oh, shit.” Kalpani hadn’t yet gotten a new locksmith out, but she had just had the new alarm system installed—and he’d forgotten all about it. She hadn’t given him the code and—
He pushed the door shut behind him, flipped on the light, pushed a button—
No, no, no. He had no idea how to turn it off.
The phone rang and he darted to answer it, but the service representative wanted the owner’s information and code word. She asked numerous questions that he couldn’t answer.
“Sir, please stay where you are.”
An alarm blasted out of nowhere, and Jonah jumped and covered his other ear with his hand. Oh, Christ, they were going to send the cops, he just knew it.
“Kalpani Desai is the owner. I’m her boyfriend.” He spoke fast, panic surging through his body. He flipped on another light, not wanting to be caught here in the dark. “I just came to drop something off, I swear. Completely forgot to ask her for the code. The alarm is brand new.”
He was still trying to talk his way out of this when he heard sirens growing louder. Flashing lights appeared both in front of and behind the salon in moments.
He swore. That was fast, but cruisers and patrol officers were already out in force down here for all the drunk leprechauns.
“I’m going to open the doors,” Jonah told the woman on the phone. He didn’t even know if she was speaking with the police, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He set the receiver down, walked slowly to unlock the front door, and used the kick stop to prop it open. He saw two cops jump out of their cars.
With leaden steps, he crossed to the back door and opened it as well. He couldn’t see the cops out back—too dark, too strobe-light-ish.
Jonah returned to stand in the middle of the space—purposely positioning himself where he was visible from both directions.
With a chirp, the sirens quieted, and in seconds, officers had converged at both ends of the room. Two approached slowly—obviously cautious and yet acting casual—except that one had a hand hovering near his holster.
Ho-whoa, his mother would kill him if he got himself shot. Or even taken down to the station.
Jonah raised his arms and was surprised to realize he still held the bag with Kalpani’s gifts.
He launched into an explanation, and this time, luckily one of the cops recognized his name.
“Chuck Walker’s son?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about your dad. I eat at The Wanderlust often. Your mom seems to be holding up.”
“She’s doing okay. Thanks.”
“Didn’t you used to work here?”
By this time, the officers had all relaxed—thank God—and one called in to have the alarm reset, so, blessedly, the blaring stopped.
Jonah explained that yes, he’d worked at the Print & Ship for years, that yes, Sohel had been a fixture in this neighborhood forever, and that now he and the new owner were dating.
One of the other officers still wrote him out a ticket. He ripped it off, and Jonah accepted it with his free hand.
He gulped. “What’s the charge?”
At that moment, Kalpani flew in the door wild-eyed with her hair half falling out of a bun. He’d only left her maybe thirty minutes ago or so. She’d washed her makeup off and now wore sleep pants, a tank, and a long sweater she must have pulled on as she ran out the door.
Double shit. Of course the alarm agency would have called the owne
r. Jonah’s heart sank. Any hope of salvaging his surprise fled—even worse, Kalpani looked both upset and furious.
“What the hell is going on?” she said.
“Well, miss, your boyfriend here—”
She narrowed her eyes and glared.
“He is your boyfriend, isn’t he?”
Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched. For a second, Jonah feared she’d say no—they’d never discussed terminology—but she gave a tight nod.
He let out a breath. Okay, at least he wasn’t going to end up in jail.
“I forgot about the security system,” he said. “But I’m sure to them it looked like…” He was at a loss. “What is the charge?” He held up the ticket in question, praying it didn’t carry any criminal charges or hefty fines.
The officer who’d written out the ticket said, “Simple trespass.”
Kalpani lunged forward and grabbed it.
Jonah felt a strong zap of electricity run up his arm and jerked back.
She jumped, too.
The ticket tore down the middle.
“Ow! What’d you do that for?” she asked.
“I didn’t.” Jonah crushed the remaining paper in his fist. Yeah, the zap was weird, but she was spoiling for a fight he wanted no part of.
She threw her hands up. “I told you weeks ago to start coming during the day. And now—the night before opening you are going to sneak in to work? I thought we were past the antics.”
“I wasn’t sneaking in.” Jonah’s jaw clenched and his whole body was strung tauter than his canvases. Their first big fight and they had an audience of police officers—one of whom knew his whole family? Friggin’ excellent.
“It sure looks like it from here.” Now her hands were on her hips.
“There weren’t any antics.”
“Oh, really?”
One of the officers cleared his throat. Another said, “I think we’re done here. Miss? You’re okay?”
“Yes,” she said, although it was uttered through gritted teeth.
“Okay, then, we’ll leave you to it.”
The officer who knew his parents gave Jonah a nod, and he managed one back.
