The bartender blows out a long breath before looking around the almost-empty city. “I’m not leaving you out here alone. Come back to the bar and wait for them. There’s no point in freezing to death because it could be a while before they make it out here. I’m sure they’re swamped tonight.”
My body’s shivering on its own. Cold doesn’t even begin to describe what I am right now. I imagine hypothermia wouldn’t take long in the single digits. The last thing I want is to wait out here, alone and frozen.
“Are you sure?”
He holds out a hand to me, and I take it without a second thought. “I have a few hours of cleanup at the bar still before I can head out. Might as well have some company while I do it.”
“I can help,” I offer as I let him pull me up and out of my worthless sedan.
“I’ll clean, you talk.”
Great. Talking isn’t my strong suit. Talking to a stranger is even worse for me. But in true Iris fashion, I say, “Okay.”
A few minutes later, I’m climbing back onto the stool I occupied earlier. My fingers and toes are numb, and my face feels like it’s on fire. Weather like this has me dreaming of living somewhere tropical someday. I wasn’t built for these conditions, but was anyone really made to survive such harshness?
When the man has his coat off and he makes it back behind the bar, he stops in front of me and slides a cup of hot coffee to me. “This will help.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a genuine smile as I wrap my hands around the hot mug.
“I’m Brax, by the way.”
“Iris.”
He smiles back, the sight so stunning I’m momentarily breathless. “I like that name. It suits you.”
“You look like a Brax.” I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. I’m babbling fromuncomfortableness. Not because of anything he’s done. He’s been great, but because he’s too handsome and I would bet money on the fact that this man has had an illustrious past with women. He looks like the type where women have thrown themselves at him, begging for his attention.
“What’s a Brax look like?” The smirk he gives me is devilish and somehow charming at the same time.
“Kind.”
“Not handsome?”
The man does know he’s handsome. I’m sure he’s been told his entire life how beautiful he is. “A little bit.” I chuckle. “I wouldn’t say modesty is a word that is often used to describe a Brax.”
“The man wouldn’t know modesty if it smacked him in the face,” a woman says as she walks out of the back room. “I would know because he’s my little brother.”
The woman is just as beautiful as he is handsome. The family must have some crazy genes. I wonder if anyone in their line has subpar looks. Probably not.
“I’m Tate,” she says, giving me the same smile her brother has.
“Iris.”
“I love that name. So soft, unlike my name.”
“Your name is amazing. Unique.”
“I like her, Brax.”
“I do too,” he says, which catches me completely off guard.
He likes me as much as anyone likes a stranger.
“I thought you were heading to her car?” Tate asks him as she starts to wipe down some of the round tables scattered around the main dining room.
“I did, but it wouldn’t start. She’s going to call a tow.”
“I’m not surprised, with this cold. And good luck getting a tow in this mess.”
