“He’s awesome.” But then she snapped her gaze to Annika. “Nice try. But we’re talking about you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not seeing either of them right now.” It was true, nothing had really happened with Sajan, and Daniel was...complicated.

“Your dad will pitch a fit if you try to date Daniel.” Naya had her arms folded across her body.

“Why do you say that? He was perfectly civil at the wedding.”

“Well, yeah. You weren’t dating him then. Trust me, Sajan will be easier. And better in the long run. No big cultural divide. Remember, Steven’s one redeeming quality was that he was a lawyer. Daniel is an NP, not going to help.” She raised her eyebrows at Annika. “Where did dear Daniel run off to anyway?”

“He went to see his ex-wife.” The words fell out of her mouth before she could filter them. She could have told Naya that Daniel was part Indian, but that really shouldn’t make a difference.

“He’s divorced?” Naya said it like it was a bad word.

Annika shrugged. “So?”

“So get out before you get in too deep. You’ll never sell him to your parents. Especially not after Steven.”

That could be true. Naya had a compelling argument. After all the drama with Steven, Sajan would be...comfortable, easy. He was a good man. Her feelings for him would grow. Just like her father said.

Daniel offered more questions than answers. Her parents’ imminent disapproval rang in her ears. Her attraction to Daniel aside, it didn’t really make any sense for her to get more involved with him with all these mysteries surrounding him. It was as if she was being given fair warning about trouble ahead.

Too bad her heart did a rapid fire every time she thought of Daniel.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DANIEL

DANIEL MOUNTED HIS bike and drove away from Annika, his body heavy with regret. Every part of him had longed to kiss her, but if he had, he’d still be up there with her. And he couldn’t bail on Sheila. She asked for very little.

Annika had been completely comfortable around his family. By the time they’d left, she had even succeeded in getting a smile from his dad, when she told the story about how a child had cut a chunk of her hair when she was an intern. She had simply offered the left-handed boy a pair of left-handed scissors.

“What happened when you told the parents?” his father had asked.

Annika had shaken her head, tossing those gorgeous curls. “Well, it turns out that the parents were trying to get him to do everything right-handed. They were trying to get him to be something he wasn’t. So, when I asked him to use the left-handed scissors, he was confused.”

His mother had smiled at her. “And he cut your hair.”