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“Yeah…well, I almost agreed to the veneers because I didn’t want to ruin things for the rest of the band, you know? Callum was the one who told me I could say no. Adam and Rodrigo agreed, but he took me by the shoulders and told me not to sacrifice my actual body for our band.” She smoothed a hand over the top of her head. “He was right. I’m glad he spoke up. If I had given in on that, they would have taken more and more. The blonde was bad enough.”
“I’ll address the rest of what you said in a second. But holy fuck, Callum speaks?”
She burst out laughing. “He does. He’s a unique guy, super introverted and sensitive. Totally opposite from Roddy, Adam, and me. But like you said, opposites attract.”
“They do.” Our gazes locked. Her eyes matched the sky today, clear blue, lit up bright. Heat passed between us, and a pull pulsed from my belly, extending to hers. Her lips parted on a light gasp, and I couldn’t stop myself from running my thumb along the plush bottom one. “Was it worth it—the sacrifices to become famous?”
She bit down on my thumb hard enough I had to yank it back. “You always think the worst of me. Music has never been about fame for me. Signing with Saul wasn’t about it either.”
“So, your art is pure?”
She shrugged. “I left home a month before I turned eighteen because I was being so suffocated by my overbearing father, my tunnel vision only saw two choices: leave or become someone I never wanted to be. I had next to no money, so I sang in seedy clubs and on street corners to make a buck. My voice was my freedom.”
I’d figured out for myself Iris wasn’t like my ex-wife or the celebrities I’d encountered while working. Watching her rehearse, seeing how serious she was about the music she made with her band, had proven that ten times over. Not that she was trying to prove anything to me. She’d never cared what I thought because she knew exactly who she was. I was the arsehole questioning her when it wasn’t my place to.
“Is that how you ended up in Dublin? Your voice?”
“Mmhmm. There was a guy, an Irish guy.”
I chuckled even though my chest clenched tight. “Always an Irish guy.”
She raised a brow. “It’s the accent.”
I glowered at her. “Will I have to kill all my fellow countrymen now?”
That made her giggle and lean into me. Iris’s light laugh was like a song. The kind that could get stuck in my head and I’d let roll through my mind all day without tiring.
“I should be horrified you’re only half joking, but I’m not at all. It’s sort of sexy you’d wipe out an entire population to assuage your jealousy.”
I brushed her hair from her face. “What if I told you I’m not half joking?”
“I would tell you you’re not allowed to actually wipe out an entire population, and in this case, it’s the thought that counts.” Her heart-shaped lips curved into a satisfied little smile. “Anyway, there was a guy. I followed him to Dublin and we played music together in pubs until I found him fucking a bartender backstage after our set. Then I did my own thing until I ran out of money and came back to the states.”
“Was it worth it?”
She paused, humming to herself. “All of it was. I’d really lived for the first time in my entire life. I would have slept on the streets and eaten rats just to feel alive back then—just to have my own agency and build my identity. Plus, I met the boys when I moved back here. If I hadn’t been so hungry for experiences, I never would have gotten the nerve to go up to them after their set and tell them I’d be a way better lead singer than Adam was.”
I huffed a laugh because I could picture that clearly. “No shit? He was the lead singer and you demoted him?”
“No shit. But we like to call it a lateral move.”
“I would’ve liked to see that.”
She smirked, and her eyes shifted to the side, like she was reaching for the memory.
“Their jaws dropped, that's for damn sure. I was a little scruffy waif, barely twenty, malnourished, with more guts than sense. But they didn’t laugh at me and let me audition for a role that had already been filled. We’ve been thick as thieves ever since.”
“Like a family.” At first, it bothered me to see how close she was to Adam, Rodrigo, and even the ever-silent Callum. That hadn’t gone away completely. I wasn’t the kind of man who could see his woman with another man, even as a friend, and not blink. But the other side of the coin was, I recognized they were protective of her. They took care of her and watched over her. I’d call that a family, just like the men I served with in the Rangers.
“Maybe? My image of family is skewed. I only speak to my sister.” Her elbow dug into my ribs. “What about you? What’s your story, Ronan Patrick Walsh?”
I caught her elbow and slid my hand down the back of her forearm, cupping her hand in mine. The pads of her fingers were rough from playing guitar, but they were delicate and graceful too. Kind of like her, a walking contradiction. Hard and gritty on the outside, sugary sweet and invitingly warm where it really counted.
“Not much to tell. Nothing so dramatic at least. My ma and da are still together, relatively functional as that goes. I’ve an older brother and a couple nieces and nephews. We weren’t rich, so I joined the army to see the world. Got a lot more than I bargained for when I became a Ranger. A knee injury ended that career before I was ready. About the time you came back from Ireland, I moved here.”
Her eyes traveled over my face. “Maybe we were on the same flight.”
I blew a puff of air from my lips. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
