They ate at the small breakfast table. “How was your day?” he asked.
“Great.” She swung her legs, and that was when he noticed the vibrating energy running through her.
He stopped with a piece of broccoli halfway to his mouth. “Did something happen?”
“Yeah. I mean, it may not be a big deal. I got a call from this woman at MakeOut. She wants to have a meeting with me to discuss a makeup line.”
The barely suppressed glee in her voice told him this was a potentially very big thing. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” She nibbled on a snow pea. “I don’t want to get too excited. I’ve been in talks for stuff like this before, and it’s fallen through.”
“If you get the line, will you move away from social media?”
“Not totally. But it would be a good stepping-stone to my eventual goal.” Her eyes darkened. “Of course, it could bomb, and that could make my goal even harder to get to.”
“Or it could do well.” He thought of what his niece had said about his job, and how right she’d been. “I don’t believe you’re happy, doing what you’re doing now.”
“I’m not.” She wrinkled her nose, and gave a startled laugh. “I haven’t admitted that out loud yet, but I really don’t think I can do it anymore. I’m burned out. I was burned out before I got sick, but now I really feel like I’m frantically chasing likes. I want to do something different for a change.”
“So do it. If this MakeOut deal falls through, find something else. Don’t be stuck in something you hate.”
“It’s not bad advice.” She swallowed a bite of food. “What about you, how was your day?”
“Ah . . .” Since she’d just delivered good news, he hated to bring down the mood, but he needed to share this with her. “Actually, not great. They seem to have reduced my role a little.”
Her brow creased. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how do you feel?”
He thought about that for a second, pushed past his bruised pride. “I’m annoyed but not devastated. Luna is right, this show isn’t for me.”
“Do you miss your old job?”
“I do,” he confessed. “I thought a drama here would offer me the same things.” It didn’t. Hope Street had no passion, no excitement. If he was bored, how would viewers feel? He longed for his old show, missed the wild storylines, the over-the-top characters, the dramatic close-ups.
“Oh no, Desi soaps are their own breed. There’s nothing quite comparable to them here.”
“I needed the move, though. I like it here. So it’s not like I’ll be able to return to my old job, even if the show hadn’t ended.”
She made a sympathetic noise. “You wrote for the show. It’s clear you had a passion for it.” She reached across the table and put her hand over his. “Maybe you should restart the soap here.”
He chuckled. “They killed me off in the finale.”
“How many identical twins did you have over its run? There’s no such thing as dead in a soap opera.”
“This is true.” Dev turned his hand over and held hers. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a place for myself here.”
“I have no doubt of it.” She cocked her head. “Isn’t it interesting that we both kind of hate our jobs? Like we’re at a crossroads at the exact same time.”
“I imagine we’ll face many more crossroads over the years.” He liked this part, talking them through with her. His problems seemed less intense when he had someone to share the burden with.
He wanted to accelerate this domesticity. A house. Once he had a proper home for them, and once Adil Uncle and Luna came back, he’d have more of that family feel. He didn’t know yet how he’d balance that with the whole not rushing her thing, but he would. He’d vowed things would proceed at her pace, and he’d stick to it.
Her eyes smiled. “I imagine we will.”
They may have only enjoyed a couple of days of wedded bliss, but he recognized the tone in her voice. Dev came to his feet and walked around the table to tug Jia up.
“Excuse me, I’m not done eating,” she teased.
“We’ll eat later.” He kissed her, and she responded instantly, rising on her tiptoes. With their height difference, the logistics of intimacy were a little difficult, but not impossible. He hoisted her up and deposited her on the table, unsnapping the button on her jeans.
“Here?” She breathed.
“Unless you have an objection.” He kissed her again.
Her head was shaking, but she gave him a verbal confirmation as soon as their mouths separated. “Nope, zero objections.”
They were getting good at taking their clothes off fast, though they only stripped off the bare minimum now. He actually liked this, when they were in too much of a rush to take everything off.
The best part of sex was her, and he paid attention to her cues. She liked his hands and his mouth, so he gave her both generously. It didn’t take long for her, with his fingertips slicking over her clit and his lips on hers.
She gasped when she climaxed, her head tipping back. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and fell into her arms when he shuddered out his own release.
“I like this,” she whispered into the silence of the room.
He let out a laugh. “Me too.”
“It’s going well so far, right?”
There was an odd note in her voice and he straightened up, pulling away from her. “Yes, I think so. Don’t you?”
“Yup.” Her smile was bright. “I like how we’re going really slow, you know? Getting to know each other. Not rushing.”
He feared his smile was too tight. It was good he hadn’t demanded she move in properly, then. She needed time.
However, it wouldn’t do for Luna to return next week and see Jia coming back and forth to the apartment, married or not, so he’d have to figure something out soon to give her the independence she wanted while still giving this marriage and them a chance.
It was a problem, but he’d always been good at solving those.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“WHERE ARE you?”
Jia glanced up from her computer and refocused on her phone, where Ayesha’s face was displayed. “What?”
“It’s not home and it’s not your studio.” Ayesha gasped, and she leaned forward, delighted scandal on her face. “Jia! Are you living with Dev?”
“Be mature. He’s my husband.” She paused. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could call the past week living together. She’d fetched a suitcase of clothes, and he’d only gotten around to clearing out a drawer for her yesterday. The most presence she had in this place was in the office, where he’d carved out a corner for her, and the bathroom, where they used the same skin products. “How is it going talking everyone out of a huge wedding reception?”
“Only Daddy is firmly on your side.” Ayesha lowered her voice to mimic their father. “‘We can’t allow the groom’s side to pay for everything, but five daughters isn’t cheap, I should get a break on one of them by now.’”