Yes. A slip of the tongue that has nothing to do with Iris and everything to do with my limited patience for people trying to kiss my ass all night long.
“You know why.”
“Maybe but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear you say it.” She grins, and a wave of warmth spreads through my chest that has nothing to do with my whiskey.
You hate when people smile.
Except making Iris grin feels like a personal victory.
You’re not supposed to be lusting after your paid-per-vow wife’s smiles.
I snap out of whatever feelings possessed me. “You’re staying with me for the rest of the night.” I leave no room for questions.
She seems to ramp up the wattage on her smile. “You’re kind of cute when you get all flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
She wraps both of her arms around my waist, drawing me toward her. Our bodies fit together like two interlocking puzzle pieces. Returning her embrace is reflexive, while the feeling happening inside of me is not. There is only one word I can think to describe the contentedness wrapping itself around my heart like a suffocating vine.
Hygge1.
“What did you just say?” Iris looks up at me with a contorted expression.
Shit. You said that out loud?
I have two options here—admit the truth or deny it ever happened in the first place.
Deny.
“Nothing.”
Except it doesn’t feel like nothing. My heart pounds against my chest, and I only hope Iris remains unaware of the betraying organ. A sick feeling overtakes me as I consider my slipup. I stopped using words like that ages ago after my mom passed. There wasn’t a point anymore when the only person who understood me that way died, leaving me behind with an empty heart and a brain filled with useless words.
Yet here you are, using them to describe her.
Fuck.
I run my fingers through my hair, giving my hands something to do besides touching Iris. Nothing good seems to come from that.
Iris’s arms tighten around me, beckoning me to look down at her. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course.” I fight the urge to disentangle myself from her hug. She is growing far too comfortable with them for my taste.
“Great because your father is headed this way and the smile on his face is downright malicious.” Iris steps out of our embrace, only for me to tuck her against my side. My hand plants itself against her hip like it belongs there.
My father steps into our vicinity. “Just the couple I was looking for.”
Iris mutters something under her breath before plastering on her fakest smile. “Mr. Kane. How nice of you to make it tonight.”
I huff at her polite display. Both of us had hoped my father would decline to attend, but leave it to him to make it at the last minute.
His right eye narrows despite the easygoing smile on his face. “Please call me Seth. We are practically family now.”
“You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word,” I quip.
“Paying for a family doesn’t make you an expert on the matter by any means.”
“Neither does being an absentee alcoholic who hates his kids.”
Iris sucks in a breath.
My father’s face turns molten red, and the flush spreads from his cheeks to his neck. “You dare to talk to me that way?”
“Seeing as I just did, yes.”
His grin is forced, never reaching his emotionless eyes. “I’m making an effort to be polite and supportive.”
“For the public.”
“Appearances are everything.”
My teeth grind together. I learned that lesson far too many times over the years after my mom died. Because while our house was nothing but chaos in private, to the rest of the world we were the ultimate American family. My private school teachers never questioned the random black eyes or bruises on my skin. They were easily bought like everyone else, feeding into the vicious cycle of my childhood. The one I did everything in my power to protect Cal and Rowan from, even if it meant taking my father on by myself.
“Thank you for coming. I wish we could stay longer and chat, but I want to introduce Declan to my cousin before she leaves.”
Iris tugs on the sleeve of my suit, and I follow her without bothering to look back at my father. I’m too lost in my thoughts to notice much else.
It’s not until Iris pushes me into a cramped room and flips the light switch that I notice the noise around us is turned down to a manageable level.
I check out our surroundings. “A supply closet?”
She laughs. “I’m sorry. It was the first unlocked door I could find.”
“Why are we hiding?”
“Because you looked about two seconds away from blowing up on your father. I thought you might like the idea of getting away from everyone for a few minutes.”
Iris always has a superpower of knowing what I need exactly when I need it. She truly is invaluable at her job.
“Thank you.” I lean against a shelf of cleaning supplies.
After hours of talking to people, I feel like I can finally breathe again. My temples still throb from overstimulation, but the ache has lessened drastically.
Iris jumps onto a washing machine and uses the lid as a seat. “Tonight has been…”
“Excruciating,” I finish for her.
She nods. “If this is the dinner party, I can only imagine how the wedding will go.”
“You’re the one who wanted a big wedding.”
“Only because my mother would kill me for excluding her.”
“Then let’s elope and invite her along. She can be our sole witness.” The statement bursts out of me faster than I can kill it.
Her laugh dies when she catches the look on my face. “You’re serious.”
I nod, liking the idea more by the second. “We could spin it as a whirlwind idea. I could have us in Vegas in four hours or less.”
“We did not go through all this pain to give up right before the finish line.”
“It’s not giving up. It’s changing routes.”
She presses her hand against her mouth to muffle her laughter. Her obvious denial of my idea makes me bolder, and I refuse to take her no as a final answer.
I encroach on her space, trapping her against the washing machine. Her eyes get a wild look in them as I step between her legs. The material of her long dress stretches enough to accommodate my size.
I grab her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “Think about it. You, me, and a drive-thru chapel. No press. No frills. No expectations.”
“The pinnacle of romance,” she replies with a dry voice.
My thumb clutching onto her chin presses a bit harder. “I’ll throw in another hundred million to make it happen.”
She breaks free of my hold as her head drops back. The laugh she unleashes does something abnormal to my heart rate, the steady beat turning erratic.
“No amount of money can change my mind seeing as my mother would kill me before I have a chance to enjoy it.”
My disappointed sigh makes her smile.
She gives my chest a reassuring pat. “If it’s any consolation, I hate the idea just as much as you.” Her palm burns a hole straight through my chest, directly above my heart.
Her lashes flutter as she blinks up at me, and my attention is split between staring into her eyes and looking down at her lips. Being this close to her does something catastrophic to my self-restraint. I’m not sure whether it’s the lack of human contact I’ve had or desiring something forbidden, but I keep being drawn to her.