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He found himself picking up the threads of the story he’d outlined for WorldFlix and weaving them into something else entirely. Well, not entirely, as Grant would have a literal meltdown if he did that, but enough to shift the project into something that excited him once more. He was still writing about the Rebel Prince, rock royalty’s favorite bad-boy son, but he was taking the story in a different direction. Instead of having Rebel Prince meet some illustrious cover model and descend into a high-stakes game of who could out-famous the other, Kane now toyed with putting Rebel Prince in a much more complicated and multilayered situation. He wanted his character not to just win the girl but also to grow in the process. Kane wanted family drama, intrigue, comedy, and an opposites-attract vibe.
At that, his thoughts danced to Iris once more. She wasn’t his type. Not that Kane truly had a type, as he had always been grateful when any woman took notice of him but, generally speaking, he’d gone for the buttoned-up girl-next-door type. And just look where that had gotten him, he mused, watching a gull swoop lazily over the water. Iris was…not prim and proper. She swore, wore leather, was thick and shapely in a way that made him want to touch her, and he was certain he’d seen the lines of a tattoo sneaking out from the lifted hem of her shirt. She was complicated. At times bristly and standoffish and, at others, her face came alive with excitement. She was fascinating to watch as she wore her emotions on her face, and Kane found himself wanting to ask for her opinion on his story.
Which was silly, really, since he was a professional writer, and she was…well, she still hadn’t actually told him what her work was, had she? Amused that she’d managed to dodge him there, he picked up his phone to text her before he could stop himself. They’d exchanged numbers only after he’d badgered her into taking his, and now he wanted to test the waters.
Why, exactly, he wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t want a relationship and, if he did, it wouldn’t be with a prickly American who wouldn’t reveal much about herself. What would that be like for building a foundation of trust? Kane laughed to himself at the thought. And yet, or perhaps because of this, it took some of the pressure off their relationship. Their friendship, Kane amended. They’d both sadly acknowledged their inability to trust, not truly, so they were kind of off the hook with each other, weren’t they? Which was freeing in its own way. Settled, Kane shot off a text before he could overanalyze anything further.
Kane: If a man slammed his door in your face and kicked you off his property, but then came to find you and apologized, would you go to dinner with him?
Iris: Is this some weird role-play fantasy?
Kane chuckled, leaning back in his chair to look at the fire as he thought of a witty response.
Kane: It sounds like it might be one of yours if that’s where your thoughts went first.
Iris: Is this the adult version of I know you are but what am I?
Kane laughed out loud again, thoroughly enjoying the way her mind worked.
Kane: Answer the question, Iris.
Iris: Fine, um, it would depend on the circumstances. I’d need more details. Did I do something that warranted said slamming of door? Was I being the person I am before I’ve had coffee who shouldn’t be allowed to speak to others? Did I kick his cat? Or am I an innocent, and he’s just a grumpy jerk? There are a lot of variables at play here.
Kane: Your job is to protect him from the press. You’re basically his handler. He wants to be left alone.
Iris: Hmm, intriguing. But then why would he go after her if he wanted to be alone? She’s just doing her job, right?
Kane: Correct. And why should she be willing to have dinner with him after he was mean to her?
Iris: Maybe she’s hungry?
Kane laughed again, shaking his head at the phone, delighted with the direction this conversation was going. Thinking for a moment, as her questions were valid, he picked up his phone again.
Kane: I need her to see something in him that makes her want to do more than the basic requirements of her job, which is to protect him from nasty press as he’s famous. But he’s also being a jerk because he’s got some pretty serious wounds and trauma. At this point, he feels the world has turned on him and is acting as such. She’ll need to see a spark of…something…that gets her invested in not only protecting him, but in, well, him.
Iris: Even more interesting…I guess it depends on what type of woman your heroine is. If she doesn’t take shit from anyone, she’ll likely not give this guy a second look. However, if this is her job, and she’s determined to win at all costs, she’d still go to dinner. But women are good at compartmentalizing, so she could probably easily do her job while also ignoring what a jerk he is. If you want her to fall for him, she’s going to need to see something that appeals to her, and it will depend on what her needs are.
Kane: Explain.
Iris: Well, does she want to be protected? If so, he needs to save her. Does she want to nurture or protect? Then he needs to show his belly somehow. Expose a wound. Flash a vulnerability. Something that makes her see it’s all an act, and he’s hurting. Then she can help. Women like to help. I’d go with the second one to start. Unless he can really save her from something at the beginning because women like the hero thing too.
Kane: Maybe they can save each other.
At that, Kane stared down at his words, his stomach twisting. He shoved back from the table and stood, pacing in front of the fire. Maybe that was the crux of it, as well. Men were always taught to save the girl, but never themselves. Wouldn’t it be nice if, for once, the girl saved the guy? It actually sounded kind of nice if he could get past the instinct to prove he was a man who could handle everything. This could be a good route for his character, Kane quickly amended, forcing his thoughts back to his book.
Kane: That’s not a bad shout. Thanks for helping me talk through it.
Iris: No problem. I accept payment in form of royalty percentages…or, in lieu of such, I’ll take a ride if you’re up for an excursion one of these days.
Kane: I don’t think WorldFlix will share royalties. I barely got any as it was. A ride it is, milady. Where to?
Iris: There’s a cove out of town I’m told is a must-see. I’d like to go have a look.
Kane: Ah, sounds lovely. Will tomorrow work? It’s meant to rain all day today.
Iris: Perfect, I can grab snacks from across the street. Oh, the flowers look great. Thanks again.
Kane snapped a picture of himself making a silly face next to his own vase of flowers and was rewarded when she sent a similar picture back. But instead of making a funny face, she just smiled into the camera, tucked into a corner of her sofa, her hair piled loosely on her head. His breath caught as she looked impossibly lovely and warm and…his eyes widened as lust moved low in his gut, and he hardened. That was…well, that was new. He hadn’t had any movement down there in a while. Grief would do that to a person, he supposed. Now, as his body responded to Iris’s picture, he felt slightly guilty that this woman, who was meant to be a friend only, was giving him these thoughts. Perhaps she was just the catalyst, Kane told himself as he put the phone down and went into the bathroom. He wouldn’t pleasure himself to her picture—oh no, that would be rude. But maybe it was just the mere act of having a fun text conversation that had gotten things flowing for him again. Convinced that was the case, Kane stripped and hopped into the shower, enjoying the hot stream of water that beat on his shoulders as he sought a much-needed release. When it was over, Kane stood for a moment, his forehead pressed to the shower wall, gasping for breath.
