“To quote my girlfriend, you don’t owe me anything.”
“Girlfriend?”
She scoots in a little closer, her face lit up with a sly grin.
I take her hand and guide her down into my lap.
“Girlfriend.”
I desperately want to kiss her, but I let her do it first. I need to see that she fully understands and accepts me.
To my enormous relief, Iris turns her head to the side and presses her soft lips to mine. I loop one arm around her waist and rest my palm along the side of her face, deepening the kiss. My tongue slides against hers, tasting marshmallow and chocolate.
“Were you making s’mores without me?”
She smiles and nods. “It’s called grief eating.”
“Hey, I want some sadness s’mores, too.”
“Later.”
“Ah, but the rental agreement says the fixings for s’mores would be available at 8 p.m. on the dot every night. It’s now 9:30.”
She kisses me lightly, teasingly. “Then you missed the window.”
Another kiss, this one slightly more intense, follows. Sparks explode in the fire in front of us, mirroring what’s happening in my chest. I’m so fucking happy.
“But I’m hungry now, and I’m a guest demanding compensation.”
“Then, get inside and take what you want.”
“You mean I’m free to come and go as I please?”
Iris brushes her lips against mine and says, “You’re free to come inside anytime you want.” My cock stirs as she gives a sexy purr against my mouth. “Anytime.”
“Let’s go to bed, Iris.”
She shivers against me, and I can’t tell if it’s from the chilly evening air or something else. I help keep the blanket wrapped around her shoulder as she leads me inside, through the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs to her room.
I can feel her on every wall, every surface of this house, from the rugs to the curtains to the precious memories in the pictures lining the walls. She’s meant to be in this house forever. It’s a part of her, and I feel lucky to be here with her.
Upstairs, she opens her bedroom door into a sizable room with a four-poster bed, frilly pillows, Baroque-style prints on the walls, an antique vanity with a gilded mirror, crocheted blankets, and piles of books everywhere. It’s perfectly Iris.
I pull her close, with the blanket still wrapped around her. She angles up for another kiss, and I join our mouths together as she fists the front of my shirt. She smells like campfire, and the sweet taste of marshmallow still lingers on her tongue.
“Why did you do that for Skylar? Why would you give that up?” Iris asks, cupping my cheek.
“She’s your friend and your town needs a bookstore more than it needs another art gallery.”
Iris bites her lip; her thumb brushes against my cheekbone. I pull her tighter to me. “You’re sweet. Is it bad that I feel a little bit sad that it means you won’t be staying?”
“It’s not a bad thing. But I won’t be far away, and I’ll come to you every chance I get, until I can move here for good.”
She blinks up at me. “You would move here for me?”
I nod reverently. “I would move to another planet for my Biscuit.”
Iris bows her head and laughs. “You’re ridiculous with that pet name for me. But I love what you did.”
