Page 16 of Pretend for Me

I turn to him, puzzled. “Excuse me?”

Dev folds his arms around his chest. “I’m not here for another haircut, Ms. Parker; I could get that anywhere. I’m here to collect the other part of your promise. The part where you said you’d do anything to make it up to me.”

Though I said those words, a part of me wishes I could go back in time and punch myself in the face for doing so, because based on the look on Dev’s face, I have a feeling I’m going to wish those words never spilled from my mouth.

“Um . . .” I stall. “What exactly is it you’d like, if not the haircut?”

Dev raises his head, his eyes piercing as he delivers the two words I never anticipated. “A bride.”

seven

piper

Your Pussy Really Wants To

“Abride,” I parrot like a malfunctioning robot, my brain trying to catch up as if I’ve missed the punchline to a joke.

Dev blinks, keeping his gaze steady on me. “Yes. A bride.”

“Uh huh . . .” I drag out, giving him a chance to append a bit more information to his limited vocabulary, but he just stares at me. “Sorry, are we playing some form of charades here, or is ‘bride’ a code for something?”

With all the air and authority of a king rising from his throne, Dev pushes up to his feet, towering and self-assured. “I’m neither playing a game, nor sending hidden messages. You promised you’d do anything to make up for the disaster from this morning, and I’m here to cash in.”

I reel back because I’m still unclear about what the hell this man is saying. “Yes, I said I’d do anything to make up for botching your haircut, but what the hell does a bride have to do with anything? Does this salon look like a bridal dealership to you?”

With the most nonchalant demeanor, one that belies the bombshell he’s about to explode over me, Dev delivers hiscondition—the second disaster of my day. “I’d like you to be my bride.”

I immediately squawk out a high-pitched laugh that sounds like some sort of mating call for prehistoric birds. My next breath, however, stalls inside my chest, and I stare at the man in front of me. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Maybe he inhaled too much hairspray?

But then, as the sheer absurdity of his request—or rather, his command—finally sinks in, I can’t help but burst into another fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say you’d like me to be your bride,” I choke out between giggles. “Maybe we should take a closer look at your head, Mr. Menon, because I’m starting to wonder if my clippers accidentally passed through your scalp and grazed your brain.”

With his hands casually nestled in his pockets, looking as stoic as the Sphinx, Dev waits for me to regain my composure.

A few more waves of laughter ripple through me before I wipe the corner of my eye, noticing Dev’s not laughing at all. A second later, any trace of amusement vanishes from my face and dread trickles down to my stomach. “Oh my God, you’re serious.”

“I rarely joke, especially around virtual strangers.” He pauses for a beat, letting me come to terms with why he’s here. “My mother is sick, Ms. Parker. Terminally sick. Her doctors have given her a prognosis of four to six months?—”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” I say in a rush, my hands flying up to cover my mouth.

I don’t know this man, but whether it’s his stiffened stance or the way he was blinking back the sheen in his eyes, all I want to do is pull him into a hug. But given the fact that until now, all he’s shown me is his unflappable, and somewhat icy, exterior, I don’t completely feel comfortable crossing that line.

As for me, I’ve never been one to hide my feelings, or asMom often calls it, my ‘glass house of emotions’. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and while that means I’m honest and transparent, it also leaves me vulnerable and exposed.

Dev’s jaw tightens as if he’s struggling to contain his emotions. “She has one wish before she—” He takes a shaky breath that has me stepping toward him unintentionally. “And it’s to see me get married. Which is why I’m here.”

“Wait a minute.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to process this absurd situation. “Let me get this straight. You’re here, proposing marriage to me, because you want to fulfill your mother’s last wish, even if it means marrying a stranger?”

“Yes.”

I gape at him. “And you couldn’t have asked anyone else on this side of the hemisphere?!”

“I could have, but I didn’t. And I won’t.”

This guy and his cryptic short answers!

“Why not?” I ask incredulously.

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