The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,106
“I am so ready to get wicked with you for a long time to come.”
Epilogue
Samira didn’t mind the pomp and ceremony of Indian weddings: hundreds of guests in their finest silks, the expensive jewelry, generous gifts, elaborate decorations, copious amounts of delicious food, and joyful dancing well into the night.
But all that hoopla wasn’t for her.
Not this time around.
“What’s going on?” Pia grabbed Samira’s arm as she tried to sneak past her bedroom door.
Samira wanted this wedding to be a surprise for everyone. It had been eight weeks since they’d brought Ronnie home from the hospital and she’d managed to keep tight-lipped about her plans, swearing Rory and Kushi to secrecy too. But she should’ve known she couldn’t hide much from Pia. They’d been close for a long time, and her cousin could read her better than anybody. “Nothing.” She feigned wide-eyed nonchalance. “Just checking on Ronnie to see if he’s still asleep.”
“You’re up to something.” Pia’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “If this party is to introduce Ronnie to the aunties and their crew, why has he spent most of the time in your room?”
“Because he’s a baby and he sleeps a lot.” Samira rolled her eyes, hoping Pia would buy her act. “Let’s go back outside and join everybody.”
“You’re giving me the brush-off.” Pia poked her in the arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll ask your mom.”
“Go ahead,” Samira said, knowing Kushi would keep her secret. Her mom couldn’t be happier that her wayward, divorced, single-mother daughter had finally succumbed to her matrimonial machinations, even if the groom wasn’t her first choice. But Kushi had fallen for Rory as much as she had, though if he kept eating the Indian food her mom force-fed him, he’d need to up his hours in the gym.
“Come on, Cuz, tell me.” Pia slipped her arm through Samira’s elbow as they headed for the backyard, where a crowd of about fifty had gathered, comprising the aunties and the rest of Kushi’s local Indian community. “I need a little fun in my life.”
“Did someone say fun?”
Samira laughed as Manish bounded up the back steps to hold the door open for them.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Pia muttered, shooting him a mock glare, when Samira knew his exuberance amused her cousin as much as it did her.
“Maybe you were talking too loud?”
Samira bit back another laugh. She’d seen Manish’s faux innocence before; he channeled a naughty boy playing good very well.
“What are you doing here, Manish?” Pia shooed him away like a bothersome fly. “Or didn’t you hear, Samira’s already spoken for?”
His mouth eased into a confident grin as he eyeballed Pia. “Maybe I’ve set my sights elsewhere?”
Pia rolled her eyes at Manny’s usual over-the-top antics. “Don’t look at me.”
“Why not?”
Manny shot Samira a playful wink, enjoying playing up to her cousin, who seemed to be enjoying it less so, if her compressed lips were any indication.
“Because you know I’m married and my husband will kick your ass.”
With a smug smirk, Pia pushed past him and stomped away, managing to look incredibly graceful in her silver stilettos and powder blue salwar kameez while doing so.
“You shouldn’t tease her like that. She’s going through a rough time,” Samira said, pleased that her cousin still proudly referred to Dev as her husband. It looked like Pia’s plan to jolt Dev into considering counseling had worked and he’d booked an appointment. They had a long road ahead of them, but Dev had taken the first step to dealing with his insecurities regarding his sterility, and she knew Pia would fight hard for the reunion she so desperately wanted.
“I thought you said she’s communicating with Dev and things are looking up?”
“They are, and I’m hopeful, but she seems fragile to me, and your incessant teasing of every woman within a five-foot radius isn’t helping.”
“Okay, I’ll tone it down,” he said, suitably chastened for a moment, before flashing her his signature cocky grin. “Anyway, that favor you asked me for has just arrived.”
“Great.” Samira rubbed her hands together, more to quell her nerves than anything else. “Let’s do this.”
“You sure you want Rory? Because I’m still available—”
“Shut up, you idiot, and go tell your friend we’ll be ready to start in a minute.”
Manny gave her a rakish salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
As he strode away, she stood on the back step of her childhood home and glanced around the garden. It had never looked so beautiful, with orange and magenta lanterns threaded through the trees, and matching chiffon draped from branch to branch. Fairy lights