“I think the world knows.”
“Sad, isn’t it? My whole life is on display. Because of that, we never went out for dinner if we could help it. Grant and I always celebrated Valentine’s Day, but we did it inside. We’d be sitting in with a movie, steaks, and wine right now if things had gone differently.”
I couldn’t think of anything more boring than year after year of the same meal and activity. Penny deserved more.
I don’t even know her. How the hell do I know what she deserves?
I tucked those problematic thoughts away and regained focus on the matter at hand. “Always steak? That seems…” I cut short of voicing my opinion on her unimaginative ex.
“Disgusting?”
I peered around the bag at her, brows raised in question. “Why would you say that?”
“You don’t eat beef, right? I guess I assumed you’d think it was gross.”
“No. I would never judge anyone else for their beliefs. I was going to say that it sounded predictable and dull, then realized it was an asshole thing to say.”
“No, you’re right. It was predictable. So predictable that I considered ordering in. Pretty lame, huh?”
“Not at all. You loved him. Six years is a long time. I suppose, cultural and religious influences aside, that I consider steak boring compared to the many options.”
“What would you make for dinner?” The piqued interest in her voice was so much better than her earlier moroseness. Rather than attack the bag with angry, lashing strikes, she started up a steadier combination pattern I associated with boxing lessons from a professional trainer. She had good form, something I couldn’t help but notice each time she delivered a punch from the hip that might have rocked a lesser man.
“I have a particular fondness for fish and shrimp. Lamb, too. On special occasions I like to prepare Rogan Josh—spiced lamb curry.”
Penny stopped for a moment to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and brow already dotted with perspiration. “Huh? I’ve never had anything like that.”
“No curry?”
“Nope,” she replied, mopping her forehead with a towel. “My experience with Asian foods is pretty much limited to Chinese takeout and sushi.”
A trickle of perspiration slid down her throat, leaving a slick trail that vanished into her cleavage. I tore my gaze away before she could catch me ogling her. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I never checked out women, and rarely, if ever, had I given in to my desires with men, though I found it easier to be aroused in their company. Where I came from, homosexuality was a death sentence for some, which meant I hadn’t risked it often. Things were changing, thankfully.
Women normally didn’t do it for me, and it wasn’t for lack of trying, either. I could appreciate the beauty in their forms and recognize attractive traits, admire their long legs and grace, but I’d never met one that intrigued me for more than a handful of seconds.
With Penny, it wasn’t just a couple isolated traits that did me in. It was the entire package.
I took that vexing realization as a challenge to my self-control and batted my burgeoning interest aside.
It was fleeting.
It would pass.
It always did whenever women were concerned.
“You should let me cook for you. I would love to introduce you to the cuisine of my country.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“But I would like to. I enjoy cooking for friends and family. Shall we try for the day after tomorrow? I will need time to properly prepare certain ingredients.” Could I find tamarind in Houston?
“I’d really like that.” Her smile filled me with triumph and warmth. Her ex-finance was a stupid man to destroy her trust as he had. To hurt her.
“Good, I will inform Nadir. As for tonight, might I suggest you order something different than steak?”
“Share a pizza with me?”
Americans and their pizza. Not that I would say as much. Instead, I grinned and said, “That sounds great.”
Because I liked her smile. Hell if I knew why I wanted to see more of it.
I only wondered how I’d keep this job when both my co-worker, and the client we shared, were testing my self-restraint to its limit.
Chapter Five
Nadir
Suraj made the quietest and least problematic roommate I’d ever had in years of living with dudes. Initially, I’d worried that I would come to regret sharing my space and miss the days of living alone as a bachelor, but those fleeting moments of companionship with him made up for it.
The guy was a ghost I ended up seeking out just to confirm he was actually okay. He made little noise and kept to himself in the guest bedroom. If he wasn’t there, I found him on the balcony basking in the sun with a book. He read constantly and used the dictionary on his phone in frequent intervals, informing me, once I asked that it was how he’d mastered English in a handful of years.
Honestly? I thought he spoke the language better than me and I had nothing but respect for how rapidly he devoured any novel I gave him.
The front door opened and shut, jarring me out of my daydream. I had been snoozing on the couch, half out of it with a movie playing on the big screen while Suraj wandered on foot to the market. He didn’t trust his urban driving skills in his newly upgraded car, he claimed. On top of that, he enjoyed wandering the city and taking in the sights. Sometimes he jumped on a bus or the rails and got lost somewhere for hours when he wasn’t on Diva Watch, as we called it when Penny needed one of us by her side.
Penny was a homebody. So was I. Suraj, when he wasn’t exploring Houston, explained that home and a good book were his favorite activities whenever he received free time to himself. Otherwise, he was a workaholic.
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” I instantly lied, much to his amusement. I admired the beauty of his quiet smile and the bulge of his biceps as he hoisted a heavy shopping bag onto the kitchen counter.
I wasn’t a small man by any means, but Suraj put me to shame with biceps easily as large as my fucking thighs and a big body with over fifty pounds on me.
He unloaded canned coconut milk and vegetables while I watched over the couch.
“Cooking?”
“Yes. Penny mentioned how she had never had curry before, or any Indian cuisine for that matter. I thought I would make dinner for both of you. You like fish, right?”
“Love it. You’re my hero, man. Thanks. I was just going to lie here and die of starvation, but you got me covered.”
“You were going to order pizza.” He cocked a brow and leveled his gaze on me. “Again.”
“You know me so well.”
So I had a bad habit of ordering food in and slumming it. Suraj made fun of me for my infinite cycle each day of eating like shit, then desperately working out. The shapeshifter genes gave me an unfair leg up over the competition since I burned calories faster, but no matter how hard I lifted, I’d never be built like him. The guy was a juggernaut.
I dozed in and out of sleep while he cooked, stirring once or twice to the alluring smells of coconut milk, curry, and other delectable items. When I finally came to for longer than a few hazy seconds, I realized the kitchen had fallen silent. I leaned up to peer over the back of the couch at a man squinting at his phone screen while plating meals like a professional chef.
What the fuck?
While unnecessary, it really added another level to how far Suraj went to impress.
“If you will go get Penny, I’ll uncork a bottle of wine.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I made the trip upstairs and back with Penny in record time. It was a pain in the ass having to go down to the lobby in the common area, but she didn’t seem to mind. She bounced on her toes like a manic sprite, dressed in high-waisted black yoga pants and an oversized rainbow crop top that revealed a hint of stomach and bared one shoulder. The bra black lace bra beneath it teased and taunted me.
I’d
spent way too many days fantasizing about Penny. She had the silhouette of a wicked fertility goddess, wide hips and long legs, and breasts that would fill my palms if I could just get my hands on them.
When I opened the door, I let her enter ahead of me, partly to be polite, but mostly because I wanted another glimpse of her round ass. I’d seen her checking out Suraj enough times to admire her shamelessly behind her back.
Honestly, I couldn’t blame her. I saw his appeal the first time we met last year.
“Oh man! It smells amazing in here.”
“Thank you.” Suraj smiled and gestured to the table in the dining room I rarely used. The thing about being a bachelor retired from the dating scene was that everything in my home was for my appreciation alone. He’d set everything out, even going so far as to use the crystal glasses I’d picked up during one of my many assignments in the Gulf.
“I feel underdressed.”
“Me too,” I muttered.
“Not at all,” Suraj assured us. “Consider tonight a comfortable dinner between friends. Google told me a Riesling would go best with dinner, so I chose this one since you told me to help myself.”
I had way too much wine, a little walk-in pantry with racks and racks filled with bottles. I bought wine on sale, because the label was pretty and caught my eye, when overseas, and when friends recommended a vintage. Rarely did I drink, however. It just felt too pathetic to sit around the apartment alone guzzling bottles, so I ended up collecting them and ended up with a miniature vault.
Man, I missed hanging out with the guys. It wasn’t like they had abandoned me—I could see them any time I wanted to and often did—but I felt like an intruder in their happy lives, watching them with their mates and wishing I had the same thing.
It started with Russ years ago, the first of us to find a woman, get married, start a family. Then Ian and Taylor joined him. Now Sasha was only a few floors above me, but she had her hands full with her pride and two new babies. Partying had become nonexistent. Hanging out, cutting loose, and hunting together had been reduced to monthly get-togethers or the occasional night of gaming Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six together.
“Sit. Sit down. You too, Nadir,” Suraj instructed.
The shifter in me wanted to remain standing in challenge. The hungry man, however, who really wanted to stuff his face with some good fucking food, dropped his ass in the chair and did as ordered.
A couple spoonsful later, I was in heaven. Apparently, none of us were religious because no one uttered a prayer. I stuffed my face too quickly to feel any shame for how my mother would have rapped my knuckles with a spoon for failing to bless my food.
What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“Oh my Gaaaawd,” Penny exclaimed between sips of wine. “Why is this so good? How is it so good? I’m pretty sure the heat is burning me alive, but it’s a great way to go.”
Horror arose in Suraj’s features. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if—”
“It’s fine. I’ll deal. I knew what I was getting myself into when I said I wanted curry. Did you make this naan bread?”
“It would not be the same if I bought it from the store.”
Penny stared across the table at Suraj. “You made bread and cooked this enormous meal.” She glanced at me next. “Did you hear him?”
I did, but I couldn’t answer, too much nuclear-hot fish curry and naan bread in my mouth. It hurt so good.
“It’s nothing. I am happy to do it any time.”
Since Penny needed backup, I swallowed and chugged my glass of wine. “Man, way to downplay your skills in the kitchen like it’s no big deal. Clearly, you’re never allowed to leave this place. You have to be my roommate forever.”
“Like, dude, how are you even single when you cook like this and look like—” Penny gestured with her free hand toward him, apparently indicating the entire package. I struggled to hold in the laughter so I wouldn’t choke on my next sip of wine.
“Look like what?”
“You know. That.”
“She’s saying you have a smoking hot body, bro.”
“I mean, you do, too. How are you both single? Are you secretly psychos? Er…” The inquisitive light faded from her eyes, replaced by an expression I loathed seeing on her face—embarrassment and shame. “Sorry. Not my business. I shouldn’t be prying. But you guys know why I’m single.”
“Yeah, your ex is a dick. It’s fine. It’s not a valuable secret or anything, Penny. I’m single because Tinder failed me,” I replied. In fact, my Valentine’s Day lunch date had been dull beyond all belief, and I’d been relieved when it was over.
“And I have not looked. Finding a bride was not my priority when I came to America.”
Penny stared, embarrassment replaced with incredulity. “A bride? Why leap to a bride right off? Wouldn’t a girlfriend suffice for now?”
“Ah…” Suraj scrunched his nose and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Things are quite different where I come from. In some of the smaller villages, families continue to arrange marriages.”
“And now that you’re here?”
“Now I do not know.”
Suraj was lying through his teeth. If he’d wanted a bride in India, he would have had one; being the only unmarried tiger shifter of age in his village, women would have thrown themselves at his feet. He could have had his choice.
I also suspected he was gay, or at the very least, asexual. I’d never seen him so much as glance twice at a woman. While it wasn’t common knowledge, the latter existed among shifters too. I’d been a bisexual man for as long as I could remember, though my preferences tended to lean toward men of bearlike stature and women with insane curves. Suraj had a build to suit my fancies, his physique muscular but not ripped and chiseled.
Instincts ruled us, and love at first sight didn’t permit us to feel the same way about anyone else. Until we felt that special urge, anyone we “dated” was just a lukewarm attraction.
And because of my job, I was becoming more and more concerned by the day that Penny was that special someone. How the hell was I supposed to remain professional when I wanted to worship the ground she walked on?
Thankfully, the conversation moved on from the group of us being hopelessly single and on to the topic of her upcoming concert. Suraj had never traveled with an enormous entourage of crew before, accustomed to his first and last client, a homebody who left his estate for business transactions only.
“It’ll be three months without privacy because everyone will be up my ass. I hate it, and I love it,” she explained to Suraj. The whole while she spoke, I couldn’t help but feel sad for what she traded to be in the spotlight. Harper was her only friend. I knew she had no other friends, because we went everywhere together.
An idea coalesced, but it didn’t really truly take form until I was on my third helping of dinner and fourth glass of wine. Suraj had opened another two bottles to serve. We’d come to the rather pitiful conclusion that one bottle between the three of us was woefully inadequate.
“Hey.”
“Hm?” Penny glanced up from the naan bread she was currently dragging through red curry.
“You wanna get out of here for a while this weekend? Like, somewhere I guarantee no one will hassle you for an autograph or for you to connect them to your agent?”
“Uh.” Her lips pursed as she studied my face, features filled with concentration. “Where would we be going?”
“A baby shower. All you gotta do is bring a baby blanket or some shoes. Whatever you like. It’s for my boss’s wife.”
“Wouldn’t that be awkward? I mean, Mr. MacArthur is great and all, but I’m not sure if he’d like me going to his wife’s baby shower.”
“Sure, he would. And Leigh would love to have you too. I know she would, because she invited you and I’ve been tasked with asking if you’re down for nonalcoholic beverages and cake.”
Suraj grinned. “Trust me. You want Leigh’s cake.”
&nb
sp; “Will there be buttercream?” Penny asked.
I nodded. “Loads of it. She’s a buttercream junkie.”
“Then count me in.”
Penny
Every time I rode in Nadir’s sexy car, I wanted one of my own. But I wasn’t much of a driver and hadn’t owned a vehicle since the one I scraped and saved to buy during my senior year of high school. My parents were all about making me earn my own belongings, claiming I’d appreciate something more when it was truly mine. While the rest of my friends, including Harper, received new cars for graduation, I was puttering around in a beat-up little Honda Accord.
There was truth in their words, however. I loved that car, and I even drove it until it broke down completely and no amount of repairs could salvage her.
This car, though? Quicksilver sex appeal with a purring engine I barely heard beneath the rock n’ roll.
“You all right back there?” Nadir asked, meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror.
I smiled back. “Just fine.”
I hadn’t wanted the passenger seat. Besides, it was easier to text with Harper about the two hotties if I didn’t have to fear Suraj glimpsing my phone screen over my shoulder since most of our discussions involved him in some way.
Harper: since they’re definitely off limits to u, can i fuck one of them?
Me: Stop that.
Harper: what? I mean, it’d be problematic if u slept with the guys who work for u, but nothing says i can’t, right? right?
Harper punctuated her inquiry with a row of smiling emojis and kissy-faces. I snapped a selfie of me rolling my eyes and sent it back.
“What are you girls laughing about?” Nadir asked, the amusement in his tone turning his voice smooth and sensual. I loved the sound of his laughter.
“Nothing.”
We cruised through the tiny village of Quickdraw, Texas, which seemed to have a grand total of two gas stations, three fast-food joints, and a bank to its name along with a scattered handful of other mom-and-pop businesses.
“My cousin’s husband, Taylor, owns that one,” Suraj spoke up, nodding toward Wildside Paint and Autobody. The stylish block letters were hugged by the violet silhouette of a wildcat. Its sign looked incongruously new against the backdrop of a town trapped in the 90s. “I worked there for a year when I first moved to Texas.”
Jackal of All Trades (The Wild Operatives: MacArthur Security Book 1) Page 4