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Kane hadn’t even thought about Alison getting married.
It was strange, wasn’t it, that a woman he had once thought he’d spend his life with hadn’t entered his thoughts at all since Iris had helped him to release whatever tension he’d held around the situation. Grant had been helpful in hooking him up with several new potential editors, and he’d enjoyed interviewing the candidates. Frankly, he’d vibed with one guy so quickly that he was almost grateful to Alison for stealing his original editor. Kane felt that this new editor would bring a wealth of fresh insights into his work–which was exactly what he needed to grow as a writer. However, after a long week at his computer, Kane was ready to step away and take a break. Kane wondered if Iris would be willing to join him for a pint later so he could catch up with her in person. She’d been working on a special project this week that she refused to tell him about, though he was determined to pull it out of her.
Kane: It’s a strip club, isn’t it?
Iris: You wish. Actually, you probably don’t. If I opened a strip club, it would be an all-male review.
Kane: Those guys are intimidating. They are hairless and tanned and way too muscular. How do they even look like that?
Iris: They eat air and live in the gym.
Kane: That’s certainly a choice. Speaking of choices, would you choose to join me for a pint later? My eyes are starting to burn after sitting at this computer all week. I should probably surface and interact with humans again.
Iris: Yeah, I think that would work. How’s the story coming along?
Kane: Well, I’ve got my couple stuck in their cottage in Scotland. He’s furious at his father, mad at the world for intruding on his privacy, and annoyed that the PR company has sent a handler to manage him. She’s trying to remind herself that she desperately needs the money to one day leave the PR agency and pursue her dream of becoming a singer/songwriter someday.
Iris: Ohhhh, she’s a budding songwriter? The plot thickens. Does rock star know this about her yet?
Kane: No, she’s keeping it from him because she’s starting to see past his grumpy exterior and how the whole world uses him. She refuses to do the same.
Iris: I like her. Plucky. Wants to make it on her own merits, right?”
Kane: Exactly. Then he slips out for a night at the pub because he can’t stay holed up in the cabin anymore and is immediately recognized. Gets swamped by women.
Iris: Ohhh, and she’ll have to rescue him, won’t she? Is this where he’ll tell the world he already picked a woman? And pretend it’s her?
Kane: I think so, but I still need to work through it. We can’t forget the arranged marriage from his grandfather either. We don’t know who that woman is yet.
Iris: Hmm, could be a love triangle there. Tell me more…
Kane: There is no more. I’m still working it out.
Iris: Work faster.
Kane: You’re a cruel taskmaster, Iris. Take pity on my poor, tired brain.
Iris: I’ll allow you a break tonight, then. See you later.
Kane smiled, pleased that he would see her later, and then stretched. He needed to do some basic adulting, or they’d have to shovel him out of the mess of his house. Putting on some music, Kane sang along to Pearl Jam as he cleaned the cottage, took out the trash, and put the laundry on. Then once he’d changed his sheets and finished tidying up, he took a long, hot shower. The water warmed his aching shoulder muscles, a product of too much time hunched over the computer, and he relaxed against the wall. Once again, his thoughts strayed to Iris, and he found himself thinking about their kiss for the thousandth time that week. His body responded to the memory, and Kane groaned, finding himself with his hand, and he worked the lust from his body. He’d done this more times than he’d like to admit, each time pleasuring himself to the memory of how Iris had made him feel.
With one kiss, she’d unlocked something inside him that had been dormant for much too long. Longer than before Alison had left him, stunned, at the altar. It was like he’d been living in black and white, and Iris came along with her purple boots and kicked down the door to his emotions. Now, he wanted a taste of her again more than anything else.
But she’d told him no. And he would respect that because that was the kind of man Kane was. However, he wasn’t above looking for any opening that she would give him. If their banter turned flirty again, Kane planned to lean into it. It was hard to say where their friendship would lead, but he wasn’t going to put what they had into a box. Instead, Kane planned to wait and see, patiently biding his time until she let him in for a kiss once more.
And if she didn’t, well, he’d have to make peace with that as well. She’d already given him a big gift by helping him break through an emotional career block and, for that alone, he’d forever be grateful.
But…her mouth.
He could just imagine that luscious mouth of hers on him, and Kane groaned as he finished, banging his forehead lightly against the shower wall, the warm water streaming down his back.
Yeah, he had it bad for Iris.
Later, after Kane had completed his chores and felt like a functioning adult with a clean house and laundry finished, he went out for the last of his daily chores–groceries. Whistling, he drove into town and found a spot by the water. He could wander down the street and stop at the bakery, liquor store, and supermarket. It was a nicer day, as the weather went in Ireland, with only a touch of chill on the wind and a few dim rays of sunshine poking through the gray clouds. Kane pulled his cap a little farther down on his head and turned a corner just in time to hear a curse.
“Blasted stupid table.”
“Iris, what are you doing?” Kane laughed at Iris, who stood on the sidewalk next to a large wooden dining table.
