Chapter Nineteen
T hat first hour Scott was on a high that propelled him around his cottage, getting everything back in order just as he liked it.
He and Iris were good. They’d made it through the fire without getting burned. Singed a little maybe, but the incident had been a lesson to both of them. One that had brought them closer. Making them better. As most of life’s lessons did.
Leaning on crutches where necessary, he lightly cleaned bathrooms. Started to move his things back into the master bedroom but had a second thought on that one. He had his independence back. No point in stretching things too far by challenging himself to get in and out of a higher bed when doing so wasn’t necessary.
And a little more time to let the memory fade of the night he and Iris had spent sitting up on that bed would probably be good, too.
Those were intimate hours he would never forget. Didn’t want to forget.
But the bed, her, him…that part had to go.
Darkness fell and he made dinner. Some of his homemade spaghetti sauce from the freezer, warmed and spread over the pasta he managed to cook and, leaning on his crutches, to drain, too. He was back. Different. But all there. A new and improved version of himself, the back and knee injuries notwithstanding.
His knee still hurt. Joel had told him to expect discomfort for a while as he healed and then worked to retrain parts to work together. In another couple of days, when the stitches came out, he’d progress more quickly. He had no intention of pushing that. One ripped incision in a lifetime was enough for him.
Scott kept busy even after the high from his regained independence started to fade. He did laundry, answered emails, reading case notes as the loads washed and dried.
But as busy as he was, as much as he was getting done, as good as it all felt, there was a pall. A quiet that went beyond physical sound in the house. He could turn on music. Television, even, if he wanted voices. He couldn’t bring the emotional needs of another into his home. Not without having another person there.
And while, in that moment, he was missing the companionship, he also fully knew that when he got back to work, was fully engrossed in cases again, in court and judges, with individual members of juries uppermost in his mind, he’d fail to notice those emotional needs, even if another human being was in his home.
He wasn’t back in court yet. Wouldn’t be at least for another week. Which meant he was going to have to be proactive about keeping his head on straight. Starting with reestablishing the cottage as a place where he could count on being alone. First with Gray’s unexpected advent, and then, shortly after the wedding, with Iris’s occupancy, he’d begun to get used to having someone else around.
That stopped immediately.
Grabbing up his compression and bandaging materials, he shoved them into a grocery bag, slung it over his wrist and headed toward the back door. Morgan stood there, watching him. Not wagging her tail to go out.
And it hit him. Walking on the beach on crutches would not be prudent. Or in any way helpful to his overall plan to heal as quickly as possible.
“Let’s go,” he said to the girl, nodding toward the seldom-used front door. Morgan didn’t wag her tail, but she did move that time, and stayed beside him during the quarter-mile trek down to Iris’s cottage.
He was almost there before he stopped to pull out his phone to let her know he was coming. It wasn’t like he could just hang out in the street and wait for her to come out, as he’d have done any other time since he’d known her.
Except that she’d be heading up the beach to his place, not the street.
His thought had been to get there before she left, so she couldn’t tell him not to make the trip.
She picked up on the first ring. “If you’re calling to cancel on me, forget it.” No hello . Just that.
Which, oddly, made Scott smile. “I’m calling to let you know I’m almost at your front door. I come armed with all injury care paraphernalia.”
He heard her front door open. Saw the ended call on his screen. And smiled again.
They might be facing some struggles, but they were there for each other.
As a bottom line, he’d take it.
* * *
Scott had been in her house a total of three times. When she’d had new furniture delivered, to fix an electrical outlet in her office and exactly two weeks before, when he’d come in to have dinner with her while waiting on the realtor at Sage’s old place .
She didn’t have time to realize it wouldn’t be a good idea to have him in her space. When she’d seen his name come up on her screen, she’d been afraid he’d been calling to tell her not to come, that he’d had Dale come over to wrap him. Or that he’d decided to forgo the wrap altogether. He wasn’t wearing it at night. And only for a few hours in the morning and before bed.
While she’d been in his home, arguing with him had been feasible. But now that she was home, her leverage was gone.
Relief flooded her when she heard he was there, and she almost tripped over Angel on the way to the front door.
“You shouldn’t have walked all this way,” she told him, to keep from saying what was on the tip of her tongue—that she was glad to see him. That he looked fabulous.
That it seemed like they’d been apart for more than just a few hours.
When her hand darted out instinctively to help him over the threshold, she grabbed the edge of the door instead, taking a deep breath. Reminding herself that the intensity of emotion wasn’t to be trusted. To let it settle.
“I needed to get out and the beach didn’t seem like a good option.”
The normal tone, the casual glance he gave her, settled Iris. Taking the bag of supplies he handed her, she motioned him toward the couch, waited while he leveraged his leg out in front of him with one of her throw pillows and then sat down behind him.
They had the routine down pat. He lifted his shirt. Sat perfectly straight. And she wrapped. Being careful not to let her fingers graze his warm skin any more than absolutely necessary .
To think of other things when it had to happen. Chatting about the food portfolio she was working on. She’d sent out a couple of examples to some well-known cooking outlets that afternoon. Print, as well as social media.
He asked to see them, and before she took a look at the back of his knee, she went to get her computer, handed it to him as he turned, propped up on his side, giving her the access she needed to the disfigured wound he’d reopened three days before. With the laptop pushed up to the back of the couch, he scrolled.
The incision was still swollen, but not alarmingly. It wasn’t hot or overly red. She worked as quickly as she could, while every part of her was aware of every single part of Scott.
She didn’t want to be. Wasn’t happy about it. But couldn’t seem to get herself out of the space. She wanted him. Right then. Right there.
The man was injured. Not in any state to engage in extracurricular physical activity.
Except that, as she leaned over to slide her hand under the front of Scott’s left knee to brace it, she saw just how capable parts of him were.
With her body thrumming she finished her task.
And made up her mind, too.
“We have to deal with this, Scott. It’s going to destroy us if we don’t.” Pretending didn’t work. Not for a lifetime.
When he lay still, saying nothing, she continued with words that had been building, and could no longer be held back. From herself, or him.
“I don’t like the dishonesty between us. And when Sage and Gray get back, they’re bound to notice it eventually, too. And you know Sage, she won’t let it just lie there. She’ll ask questions and…”
He moved so swiftly, her heart gave a jump. He’d turned and had his arms around her waist, pulling her down to him, before she’d taken a breath.
His head rose, to meet her lips, and she accommodated the search, lowering her mouth to his with a hunger that shocked her.
Her entire body was on fire. She felt tears rising with the sheer enormity of her need to be closer to him. To take him into her and put them both out of their misery.
His lips were moist. Firm. Demanding in their movement on hers. Their tongues met seemingly of their own volition. Knowing how to move, where to meet. She lost track of everything but him. His warmth. His breathing and arms. The strength that was consuming her. Driving her to a place where nothing mattered beyond what more he could give her.
They were unentangled, consenting adults. Completely free to do what they wanted.
And what they both wanted right then was very clear.
And wasn’t going to go away.
As the fire built inside her, swarming in her lower belly, her crotch, Iris lost all will to fight it. Saw no point. Nature was taking its course.
With his injured leg still supported by the pillow, Scott rolled to his back, exposing the shape of his fully engorged penis beneath the thin silk of his basketball shorts.
He glanced down that way, then met her gaze. “It’s here, whether we want it to be or not.”
His blue eyes burned with an intensity she hadn’t seen in them before. Just looking at them shot her flames higher. Hotter. “I know,” she told him, and slid her hand down his body to cover his hardened and reaching organ. Only half of it fit in her palm, so she moved her hand up and down, cupping the length with her fingers. Felt the moisture at the tip.
“There’s a condom in my wallet.” He glanced toward the coffee table.
Iris stood. Loved the intimacy of reaching into his wallet. And felt like she soaked her panties as she pulled his shorts down far enough, got him sheathed and then reached for her own waistband. All her attention was on Scott’s face as he watched her pull her leggings and panties down. Off.
His hands reached for her, those biceps bulging, as he supported her weight while she straddled him. He didn’t move. He couldn’t, not without risking injury to his knee. The feeling of power that gave her, knowing that what happened would be fully up to her, she sheathed him with her body. Sitting on him. Grinding herself against his skin. Clutching him inside her. Holding him as she made a small circular motion with him fully inside.
Keeping her gaze on his face the entire time. His eyes were half-closed. Mouth open. Jaw taut. Unleashed power that she knew she could let loose.
When her own release threatened to happen just sitting there looking at him, she pulled up and sat again. Twice was all it took. She felt him shoot as she convulsed. Over and over. Until sensation was all there was.
Iris collapsed on Scott when it was done, and he held her against him. Tightly. They were returning to earth, and she didn’t want to.
Didn’t want to face what awaited them.
But as euphoria eased, reality intruded. Most urgently, in the form of the strain on her inner thigh muscles. She had to move. To get up and put her legs together.
And with the help of his hands holding some of her weight, she did so.
But before she reached for her own clothes, she turned back to him. Helped him get his shorts back up and his left leg in position for him to stand with his crutches.
He could have done it alone.
She figured they both knew that.
But what they’d done, they were in it together.
And would pay the price that way, too.
* * *
Leaning on his crutches in Iris’s guest bathroom, Scott had all kinds of excuses he could make for himself. For her, too.
For a second or two, he was tempted to allow them.
But by the time he limped his way back into her living room, to find it still empty, he knew that the reckoning would come. One way or another.
He could wait for it to arrive of its own choosing. To take them unaware, in another moment they couldn’t control.
Or he could deal with it.
When Iris came out of her room, in baggy sweats and an old T-shirt, with worn gray slippers on her feet, he was propped on the couch, in for the long haul.
Judging by the look on her face she was surprised to see him as such but didn’t seem unhappy about it.
“We need to talk,” he said.
He took it as a good sign that she settled on the opposite end of the couch, not far from his feet, rather than in the chair perpendicular to him. She wasn’t afraid to be close to him.
Of course, it wasn’t like he could get down there and jump her bones.
Not that he’d done any jumping earlier. Nope, the work had all been done by her. Just thinking about it had one part of him getting ready to go again.
“I…”
“We…”
They’d both started at the same time. His I , her we . And his stomach sank a little. Typical for him. He was all I while his partner was giving him we mode.
Feeling his throat tighten against that we , even as his spirits depleted at the thought of losing it, he blurted, “I can’t be part of a we .” And then, as she opened her mouth to respond, he cut her off with “I’m not meant to be half of a couple.” As though the verbiage made a difference. Softened the blow.
“I know.” While Iris’s tone was low, he didn’t detect hurt feelings. She took a full breath before she said, “I can’t, either.”
Right. He knew that. Actually really did know. And understand. “You know that forever is just a word,” he said.
And when she nodded, he sat up a little straighter. “I know that when I get back to work, I’m going to be single-minded.”
“You don’t have to explain, Scott. It’s me, Iris. I know you. And I’ve seen you plenty of times when you’re neck deep in a case.”
Right again. She had. Scott relaxed some. The conversation was going surprisingly well. Too bad it wasn’t putting him in a better mood. “So now what?” he asked, as though finding the solution to their problem was all on her.
He knew what he wanted. But also knew it wasn’t fair to ask for it.
Her shrug didn’t bode well. Nor did the fact that she wasn’t popping out answers. If she was waiting for him to be someone he was not…
But…she didn’t want that which he couldn’t give. She’d instigated the sex. Had clearly wanted and enjoyed it as much as he had. And was sitting on the couch with him. Calmly. Not crying. Or even looking like she wanted to. So…
“You think we can make it work?” he asked.
“In the short go, I’m certain of it.” She grinned, but her expression quickly sobered. “Once Sage and Gray get back, it gets a lot dicier.”
Right. Because then they were part of a bigger family.
The only family he was ever going to have. Family that needed him.
And that he needed.
While Iris…had lost hers.
And then…had become a part of his.
She could still be friends with Sage, and have Leigh in her life, if she and Scott couldn’t be around each other. But not as often. And the holidays…times on the beach…they’d truly become family there on Ocean Breeze.
They weren’t a committed couple, but they were family. Nonplatonic, where the two of them were concerned. But still family. He would not be responsible for her losing that bond a second time around.
“So we figure out how to throw the dice,” he said, fully realizing that the esoteric words were not the solution.
But they were the way to one.
He’d bet his career on that.