Chapter 6
Iris
I’m sprawled on Kaiden’s massive couch, watching a new season of The Vampire Diaries, but I can’t concentrate because my eyes drop from the humongous screen to the coffee table—where my mother’s journal is—for the umpteenth time.
To be honest, I’m surprised I haven’t burned holes in it yet.
Since Sam left two hours ago, I’ve done nothing but stare at it.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t fix the water damage.
Restoration magic is tricky, and it’s not her specialty, but she managed to save some pages. I should find out what they say, right?
My lungs constrict when I pick it up, though, as if I’m on the verge of a panic attack. The trembling in my hands only gets worse as I open it. Blood drums in my ears. The blaring ringtone of my phone startles me, and I drop the journal in my lap. Shit. I pause the show to answer.
“Miss Harper, there’s someone here for you,” Carter tells me.
“Carter, for the hundredth time, call me Iris, please. I’m not expecting anyone—”
“It’s Ava and Emily Dawson. Ava is Logan’s wife, the alpha of our pack, and Emily is his sister. Should I let them come up?”
“Oh, um…s-sure,” I stammer and hang up. Grunting, I stand, place the journal back on the coffee table, then brush away the wrinkles in my clothes.
Thankfully, I changed out of Kaiden’s shirt earlier after taking a bath in the beautiful Victorian claw-foot bathtub, and am now wearing jean shorts and a black tee that fits me like a glove.
The fabric is so soft that if I didn’t know better, I would think it’s made of unicorn tears.
I shuffle on my feet as the elevator doors slide open. I’m curious why they’re here and uncomfortable as fuck because I don’t know what to do with myself, so I shove my hands into the back pockets of my shorts and wait.
The first to step out is a curvy woman—arrestingly beautiful.
Natural caramel highlights thread through her wavy brunette hair, which she styled half-up.
Her floor-length sundress swishes between her legs as she saunters toward me, a protective hand thrown over her swollen belly.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind we’re ambushing you,” she tells me. A warm smile tilts her lips upward.
“Sheesh, you weren’t kidding when you said this place is swanky,” the other woman says after letting out a whistle, her mesmerizing citrine eyes sweeping over the first floor of the penthouse in awe.
She follows close behind, and I recognize her as the gorgeous bartender from Sin.
“I can’t believe Kaiden never invited all of us over.
The uptight, broody bastard was probably concerned we would soil his pristine marble floor. ”
I chuckle at that. If I wasn’t sure when I first saw her in the club, the overhead lights make her relationship to Logan even clearer now.
She has the same smooth amber skin—which is accentuated by the tangerine linen dress she’s wearing—and bouncy ash-brown curls, though hers reach her shoulders.
She strides to the kitchen, holding two paper bags.
The curvy brunette stops in front of me. “Logan mentioned you were alone in the penthouse, and we thought you might want some company. I’m Ava, by the way. Logan’s wife.”
“I’m Iris. Um, nice to meet you,” I say, thrusting my right hand in her direction. She bypasses it to envelop me in a hug. After I pat her back awkwardly, she disentangles herself from me, and we both amble to the kitchen.
“I’m Emily,” the other woman chimes in. “Maybe you remember me from Sin.”
“Yeah, I do,” I tell her, then offer a toothless smile.
Emily takes out a bottle of liquor from one of the bags. “We were dying to meet the woman Kaiden is crazy about. I swear Logan keeps his lips sealed tighter than the Pentagon’s vault. He wouldn’t give us any details, so we took the matter into our own hands.”
“And we wanted to check up on you after what happened at Sin. How are you feeling?” Ava inquires, concern shining in her sea-foam green eyes as she sits down on a bar stool with the grace of a ballerina.
“My ribs still hurt, and I feel as though two giants used my head to play volleyball, but aside from that, I’m pretty much okay.
My best friend made me a healing potion, and it’s working better than expected.
” I clear my throat. “She’s a light witch.
” Striding to where Emily is rummaging through the bag at the counter, I ask, “Do you need any help?”
She hands me two boxes that have the name Silver Moon Bakery written above a crescent moon in beautiful penmanship. “Just take these, and I’m going to start the cocktails,” Emily instructs as she fishes out all the bottles, a few utensils, and a cocktail shaker. “Do you know where the glasses are?”
“Third cabinet to your right.” I place the boxes on top of the bar in front of Ava.
“It sucks that Malik isn’t here to heal you, but I heard he should be back soon. You look pretty good considering what you’ve been through,” Ava tells me.
“Yeah…”
Emily turns, facing us. Her forehead crinkles as her eyebrows knit, and when her gaze flicks to mine, it’s brimming with regret.
“I’m sorry that piece of shit drugged you on my shift.
I usually watch the bar like a hawk for creeps.
But immediately after I gave you the water, I took my break, and when I came back, you weren’t there anymore—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault,” I interrupt.
“At least he got what he deserved,” Ava cuts in after a few beats of awkward silence.
As I take a seat next to her at the bar, I notice the faded scar on her right cheek that goes from the corner of her lips all the way to her earlobe. The scar doesn’t deter from her beauty—it only makes it more striking.
Ava’s eyebrows furrow as she nervously brings her fingers to the raised skin before trying to cover it with her hair. However, she realizes she has tied up the front pieces. Sighing, she places her hand on her lap.
Fuck. I’m such an asshole. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” I blurt out. Heat crawls on the back of my neck. “I have a lot of scars too, from fighting demons, and I was just thinking it enhances your beauty and makes you look badass.”
She flaps her hand in the air as if it’s a non-issue, then beams at me.
“S’okay, don’t worry about it. For the first few months, it made me really self-conscious, and I would try everything to cover it, but eventually, I became used to it, and now it’s part of me.
It’s proof that I survived,” Ava says while opening the boxes.
I’m curious how she got it, but she would have shared that if she wanted to, so I don’t ask.
Two boxes overflow with mouth-watering pastries—mini round cakes and eclairs in a medley of flavors.
If I were alone right now, I would stuff my face, but I’ve already shown how poor my people skills are, and I don’t want them to think I’m a Neanderthal.
“C’mon, take something,” Ava says, pushing the sweets-filled boxes toward me on the bar.
“I don’t know what to pick. Everything looks delicious.”
“Try this one. It’s my favorite.” She points to the biggest pastry in the box, roll-shaped and filled with white cream. She then takes one of her own and bites into it encouragingly.
I gingerly pick it up. As soon as my teeth sink into the buttery, flaky texture, my tastebuds start doing the cha, cha, cha. “Holy shit! This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
Ava radiates happiness at my remark while she takes another bite of her roll.
“Ava made it. She owns the bakery. Actually, it’s bakeries; she opened a second one a month ago,” Emily chimes in as she strides to the fridge.
My eyebrows shoot up. “I know you’re married to Logan, but I’m seriously thinking about proposing to you right now,” I say through a mouthful. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of your bakery before. Prepare to get sick seeing my face almost every day from now on.”
“I’m happy you like it,” Ava says on a giggle at my enthusiasm.
“I love it. I’m already thinking about ways to make Logan disappear,” I jest after taking my last bite and licking my fingers clean.
Emily carries ice, bottles of liquor, and everything else she brought over to the black marble bar. “So, Iris, how do you feel about coffee? I was thinking of making some espresso martinis for us. For Ava, I’ll make an amaretto sour mocktail. I can make one for you, too, if you don’t want alcohol.”
“I love coffee, and I could use some alcohol; the espresso martini sounds like heaven.” I wrinkle my nose. “But don’t ask me how to use Kaiden’s fancy-ass coffee machine because I might set it on fire.”
Emily lets out a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry, I think I can manage. My brother has the same one.” She turns on her heel and presses a few buttons on the espresso machine.
“How far along are you?” I ask Ava.
She gives me a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
My mouth opens and closes a few times. I probably look as red as a pickled beet.
Wow, Iris. This must be a record, me putting my foot in my mouth twice in a few minutes.
You never ask a woman about being pregnant, you dumbass!
“Well, um…I, um—I think I’ve heard Logan and Malik talk about pregnancy cravings.
How you wanted chocolate-mint ice cream, and I assumed—” I cringe, hands flapping at my sides.
Shoot. Me. Now.
Ava and Emily break into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, I was just messing with you, couldn’t help it. Four months. We’re having twins.”
“Thank God,” I sigh and wipe at my forehead dramatically. “Wow, twins. I’m sure you’re excited. I would be terrified.”
“Oh, I am terrified, but Logan is over the moon, and we have the entire pack to help us. We’re a big family.”