"Careful," he said, his voice dropping an octave, losing its teasing edge. "You okay?"
"Thanks," she mumbled, softening a bit.
"So," Kabir said, watching her eat. "Am I forgiven?"
Simran froze, her hand inches from the treat. She turned around to see Kabir, the groom’s younger brother, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. He was wearing a sweater vest and looking entirely too pleased with himself.
He reached into his jacket pocket—which was now on her shoulders—and pulled out a small paper bag. He opened it to reveal a handful of perfectly roasted, golden Makhana .
Just as she tiptoed toward the pot, a voice boomed from behind the pillar.
