The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,104

to you.”

Rory had every intention to do exactly that, and he certainly didn’t need relationship advice from this dude, but something Manish had said snagged his attention.

“What did you mean by ‘cultural implications’?”

“I know she was born here, but unless you’ve lived within the Indian culture, you have no idea what it’s like.”

“It shouldn’t matter if we love each other.” He sounded like a romantic idiot. He knew relationships were hard work. It was why he’d avoided them until now.

“I didn’t say it mattered; I’m just putting forward possible reasons why she used me as an excuse to push you away.”

Manish slapped him on the back. “Good luck, mate. There are reasons I stay single, and this kind of convoluted drama is one of them.”

“Thanks.”

“And enjoy fatherhood, another thing I never want to experience.” Manish gave a mock shudder. “See you round.”

Okay, so the guy wasn’t so bad. Rory had been a jealous jerk and taken a disliking to the doc because of it.

But if Samira hadn’t been engaged to Manish all these months he’d been away filming Renegades, why hadn’t she told him? Or better yet, why had she said she’d be marrying him in the first place?

Rory hoped Ronnie kept improving, because he had a lot of questions for Samira, and this time he wouldn’t walk away if he didn’t like the answers.

Fifty

Samira had never envisaged sleeping in her old bedroom at home in Dandenong when she’d left so many years ago, but it felt right bringing her child here for the first few weeks of Ronnie’s life outside hospital walls.

For the simple fact being a mother petrified her and having Kushi around would be a godsend. Her mom had been amazing in the fraught weeks after Ronnie’s birth; she’d never seen her so calm, when Kushi usually saw the worst in every scenario.

Rory had been pretty darn amazing too, and she had every intention of telling him once she tucked Ronnie into his bassinet.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and it eased open. “He’s such a precious boy,” Kushi whispered, entering the bedroom. “My darling boy.”

“He is a darling,” Samira said, staring down at her angelic son, sleeping now he had a tummy full of milk. She would never get tired of this. Watching him sleep. The shift of his eyeballs beneath paper-thin skin. The quirk of his lips in the corners. The smoothness of his peachy cheeks. “I’m so lucky, Mom.”

Kushi slid an arm around her waist, and she leaned into her mom. “These things are meant to be, betee. Your Rory came into your life for a reason, and despite my best efforts to push you elsewhere, your choices resulted in my beautiful grandson.”

Her mom glanced up at her. “So I am done, Samira. No more interference in your love life from me. You do what makes you happy.”

Samira smiled. “Did you feel that?”

“What?”

“That rumbling under our feet?” Samira made a grand show of shuffling across the fluffy crimson rug she’d picked out as a thirteen-year-old. “I think hell just froze over.”

“Cheeky girl.” Kushi pinched her cheek, chuckling softly. “Now go. Your young man is waiting for you outside.” Her fond glance fell on Ronnie. “Let me have some alone time with my beautiful boy.”

“Okay.”

Samira leaned down to place a butterfly-soft kiss on Ronnie’s forehead, before letting herself out of the room she’d spent so many hours in growing up, dreaming of Bollywood princes and marriage and babies. Her life may not have turned out quite the way she’d envisioned back then, but having Ronnie completed her in a way she’d never imagined.

She’d resigned herself to not having kids, and she’d been okay with that. But now that he was here, and the long weeks she’d sat by his bedside willing him to get stronger, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

And speaking of males who’d become ingrained in her life . . . she owed Rory an explanation and an apology. She’d underestimated him, using his age as an excuse to push him away when he’d proved his maturity above and beyond while by her side the last six weeks.

He’d rarely left the hospital and had been a silent support when she’d needed it most. He hadn’t bombarded her with questions. Heck, he hadn’t even asked about Manny once. But she knew he deserved an explanation, and with their son home and out of hospital for the first day, the time had come.

Kushi had made a big pot of mutton biryani for her