Only Yours

13. I might. . .

Tamina

"Hey. . . am I allowed to pay for half?" My tone comes out hopeful.

My body freezes as our eyes lock, and he smoothly tugs me by the hand. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

The answer is obvious. So, in retaliation, I dare a cheeky, "Yes," to try my luck.

"No, love." With that, Brandon's back to the humorous note, and all it does is rattle my shy side.

"Worth a—"

"Hey guys, welcome to—" the voice cuts off to immediately say, "—holy shit, Brandon, is that you?"

There's disbelief in their tone, and it only makes me curious. My memory recalls Brandon saying he's never been but knows some of the workers; perhaps they've tried to bring him here before and there's never been an opportunity. If that's the case, it's a shame.

I'm quick to spot the glance Brandon casts at the worker, who merely grins away at us. "I never thought you would come, so, what do you think?" The man inquires hopefully, his blue eyes shining with adoration.

"You boys have done well."

Our greeter beams at the response, straightens his posture, and holds up a solute. "Thank you, captain. I shall keep it up and the men will follow."

Laughing at his funny antics, his gaze sweeps over me for a good inspection, and it makes me anxiously squeeze Brandon's hand in reassurance.

He's a young man, maybe my age or a few years older, and his hair reminds me of curly pasta but the shade of rich almonds. When his eyes widen, the light helps me see they're a blueish-brown, and his goatee is slightly darker than his hair.

"Me perdoe, who is this pretty lady?" He takes another look at me before they dart to Brandon. "There's no way she's your sister," he chuckles.

"This is Tamina, she's my date, Ryan."

My body's becoming too sensitive to the heat now; my cheeks are the first, then the rest of me from embarrassment and the warmth circling the atmosphere. I've never been one for attention, if anything, I'd rather linger in the background.

"Good on you, she looks like a keeper." I continue to flush, feeling Brandon's hand flex its grip. "Anyway, I shall cut to the chase so you lovebirds can spend more time together. What can I get you?"

Brandon takes the lead, which I'm thankful for, knowing I don't trust my voice at the moment.

"One vindaloo, one korma, a medium pot of biryani, naan bread, and two of your paneer sodas."

I'm intrigued by the sodas; I've never heard of them before.

"Take a seat, I shall bring it over." Ryan sends us off with a small wave, and I'm unable to stop myself from smiling back at him before Brandon guides me across the carpet.

"He seems nice," I observe.

"He's a hard worker and spends his free time cracking jokes."

In the few minutes we exchanged in greetings, that was obvious, but that's fine and there's no harm in a good joke or two.

"Are you hungry?"

I'm sure he's about to groan when he clears his throat. "Starving, you?"

Agreeing with his statement, we slowly come to a standstill at the entrance of a roomy area, and the lanterns are off but it's replaced by candlelight. There's a slender bottle with a ruby rose in the centre along with scattered petals that catch my eye, and there's two chairs with plush cushions. It's like something straight out of one of my books; romantic and magical.