"Best two hundred and fifty dollars I ever spent."
He laughs, and the sound rumbles through his chest into mine. "Best weekend of my life."
"Mine too."
We fall asleep like that, tangled together, holding on tight like we can stop tomorrow from coming if we just don't let go.
Chapter 9 – Silas
Monday morning comes too soon. We're on the road by six, the sky still dark, the world quiet around us. Iris is curled in the passenger seat, my jacket draped over her like a blanket, and I'm driving one-handed so I can keep the other on her knee.
"Nervous?" I ask. "About everyone knowing?"
"A little," she admits. "Small town gossip is intense."
"I don't mind the gossip if you don't."
She turns to look at me, and even in the dim light, I can see the smile on her face. "I don't mind at all."
When I pull up to her house, the sun is just starting to rise, painting the sky pink and gold. I kill the engine but neither of us moves.
"So," she says softly.
"So."
"Dinner tonight?"
"Already planned on it. I'll pick you up at six."
"You really meant it. Every day."
I turn in my seat to face her fully. "Every single day, Iris. This isn't a weekend thing for me. This is an 'I want you in my life permanently' thing. If that's too fast, tell me, but that's where I'm at."
Her eyes well up, and she launches herself across the console into my arms. I hold her tight, breathing in that vanilla scent, memorizing the feel of her against me.
"I want that too," she whispers against my neck. "I want all of it."
I walk her to her door, carrying her bag despite her protests. On her porch, I cup her face and kiss her, long and deep and thorough.
"Six o'clock," I remind her when we break apart.
"I'll be ready. But Silas?"
"Yeah?"
"You could just... stay. We could have breakfast together."
The offer is tempting. So tempting. But I shake my head. "If I come inside now, you're going to be late for work. And as much as I want to spend every second with you, I also want to do this right. Take you on proper dates. Show this town that you're mine."
"Yours," she repeats softly, testing the word. Then she smiles. "I like the sound of that."
"Good. Because I'm not letting you go, Iris Whitfield."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I force myself to walk away, back to my truck, even though every instinct screams at me to turn around and go back to her.
