Page 201 of Lawfully Yours
“Where do you think she gets her courtroom drama from?”
Arundhati smiled, heart full.
“She gets the drama from me… and the logic from you.”
Raj snorted.
“And the headache from BOTH of you.”
The three of them burst into laughter before hearing Amaira calling from her room, asking them to come inside.
“Coming,” they said in unison, before heading to her room, not wanting to make her wait. After all, this tiny tornado was the heart of the family now.
***************
Night – Kitchen
Dinner had long been cleared. Kushal tucked Amaira into her bed. Her tiny snores floated in the room as she curled around her giant unicorn soft toy. He turned off the lights before shutting the door and headed straight to the kitchen, where he knew his wife was.
Arundhati stood at the kitchen counter in her soft magenta nightie, the matching robe loosely tied at the waist. A small wisp of hair had slipped out of her clip, brushing the nape of her neck, which Kushal noticed as he entered.
He stepped behind her in one slow movement, the warmth of his chest gliding against her back.
She drew in a breath, stealing a glance over her shoulder, as his hands curled around her waist.
“Kushal,” she murmured, “I still have a few chores to finish.”
“We’ll finish it tomorrow,” he replied, kissing her cheek once. “Now I want my wife for myself.”
She rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her.
“What if Uncle comes out? You know he’s awake around this hour.”
“I checked,” he murmured, kissing the slope between her neck and shoulder, right through the thin satin. “He’s not in the living room, which means he is off to sleep.”
“And Amaira?”
“In her fort. With her unicorn. Completely out and snoring.”
He turned her gently, slid his hands beneath her thighs, lifted her, and sat her on the cool marble counter with effortless strength. Her robe slipped down her shoulder, exposing warm skin.
“We are doing this in the kitchen?” she bit back a gasp.
“Yes.” His mouth brushed her collarbone. “Because my favourite appetiser is right here and I can’t wait till the bedroom.”
Before she could retort, they heard someone clearing their throat. Loudly.
Both froze, realising it was Raj Verma.
Arundhati nearly threw herself off the counter, seeing her uncle at the doorway. He was holding his steel water jug, slightly flustered and hiding his chuckle.
“I forgot to fill this up,” he announced grandly, lifting the jug.
Kushal recovered first, far faster than Arundhati, who looked like she might dissolve into vapor.
“Uh…Actually,” Kushal cleared his throat, straightening his shirt, “wewerediscussing… a case. For tomorrow’s court. A very urgent matter.”
Arundhati gaped at him.
