30. Iris
30
IRIS
“Nick, don’t you dare,” I shout as the doorbell rings promptly at noon, but it’s too late. My brother easily blocks me as I try to muscle my way past him.
“Hello, young swain,” he says with a fake-courtly bow after opening the door. Then, even though I’m standing inches away from him, he turns and hollers over his shoulder, “Iris, you have a gentleman caller. He brought flowers. Aren’t you allergic to flowers?”
“I am not allergic.” He steps to the side when I give him a giant shove, but not because of the force of my push. Nick wouldn’t move if he didn’t want to. My brother’s even more stubborn than he is strong.
Jake looks effortlessly rugged in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his muscular forearms. His jeans are well-worn and fit just right, with a sturdy pair of hiking boots completing the look. The shadow of stubble on his jaw is a little more pronounced than usual, and my face warms, imagining how that scruff would feel across my bare skin. But it’s his teasing grin that makes my heart stutter.
“New butler?”
“I’m about to fire him.”
“You’re not allergic, right?” he asks as I take the flowers. They’re a mix of warm fall colors tied together with a simple burlap ribbon.
“Only to my annoying AF brother.”
Nick leans over my shoulder. “Her older brother who could kick your ass with one hand tied behind his back.”
“He’s not going to kick your ass.” Jake doesn’t look the least bit worried. “You aren’t going to kick his ass,” I tell Nick, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Oof. Not unless he gives me a reason to.”
“I don’t plan on it,” Jake says.
Something about his tone makes a shiver of awareness—or maybe it’s longing—trail down my spine.
Embarrassed by my reaction, I glance down at the flower arrangement. “Oh, these are from Meadow Blooms.” I place a finger on the tag hanging from the ribbon. “That’s my friend Molly’s flower farm. That makes them even more special. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answers, his voice low.
Nick pretends to cough behind me, and I clearly hear him choke out the words, “Suck up.”
I turn and shove the bouquet—with more force than necessary—into my brother’s chest. “Be a peach and put these in water for me.”
“If I was a fruit, I’d be a blueberry,” Nick answers. “You’re the peach, Iris.” He points the flowers toward Jake. “You’re an ugli fruit.”
“I know you are, but what am I?” Jake counters without missing a beat.
I groan and step onto the porch before their game of insults can gain steam. “I won’t be late,” I tell my brother. “No need to?—”
“I’ll wait up,” he interrupts, then heads toward the kitchen with the flowers.
“Sorry about that,” I say as I shut the door. “I don’t know what his problem is.”
“He’s being protective.” Jake places his hand on the small of my back. I should be used to the touch—we do it enough during dancing—but goosebumps erupt along my skin. “You’ve taken care of him for way too many years. It’s about time he returned the favor.”
“Do I need to be protected from you?”
He pauses as he opens the passenger side door of the truck. “I hope not.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I think the opposite might be true.”
“No.” I lean around the edge of the door and kiss his cheek. “We’re in this together, Jake, for as long as it lasts.”
His hazel eyes darken with something that looks like disappointment, and I glance away. We both need the reminder that there’s an end date on whatever this is between us.
I like rules and limitations because they make life easier to navigate and keep me safe. But my heart isn’t on board with that plan. Instead, it’s defying every boundary I set, and I can’t seem to—don’t want to—stop it.
“Did you just kiss me in public where anyone could have seen it?” Jake asks as he turns the key in the ignition.
“I don’t want to sneak around or hide any part of my life.” I force my hands to loosen when Jake places his on top of my balled-up fists. He can’t understand what those words mean to me, and I don’t know how to tell him.
“I don’t want to hide either, Iris.”The words are right, but I don’t understand the tension in his body. Maybe he’s just reacting to my anxiety. I draw in a deep breath as the truck rumbles down the street.
Resting my head against the back of the seat, I gaze out the window, willing myself to relax. It’s a perfect October afternoon, the sky impossibly blue and the aspen leaves shimmering like gold coins in the sunlight.
“Where are we headed?” I ask as he turns down a gravel road just before we get to the edge of his grandfather’s property. “There’s nothing out this way.”
“I’ve got everything you need, sweetheart.”
He says the undeniably cheesy line with so much conviction that I burst into giggles. His affronted growl makes me laugh even harder. He reaches out with one hand and playfully smacks my jeans-clad thigh.
“Woman, you are terrible for my ego.”
“Your ego’s doing just fine.” I link our fingers, and his smile softens as he glances down at our joined hands.
It’s not the first time we’ve held hands, but it might be the first time I’ve initiated the contact. It means something to me, letting someone in when I’ve spent so long keeping everyone out.
Jake tightens his hand around mine without saying a word, like he realizes the weight of the small gesture.
“Been to Echoveil Lake?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I didn’t think anyone went up there.”
“No one has since Grandpa closed the summer camp. It’s been pretty much deserted. Maybe a few hikers snap pics of it. Anyway, I thought we could have a picnic and take out one of the boats.” He says the words casually, but his voice is tight.
“Are you sure?”
“It was my grandpa’s suggestion, actually, and it’s a good one. I haven’t been up here since Mikey and I visited as kids.”
He moves to pull his hand away, but I hold on as he continues, “I also haven’t been on a boat since the night he died. Shit. Today is supposed to be fun, not a trip down traumatic memory lane.”
“This month has taught me something important about fun,” I say softly.
He keeps his eyes on the road “What’s that?”
“Fun is less about what you’re doing and more about who you’re with—the camaraderie and spirit of being with a person or people you…” I hesitate. I refuse to use the word love, not with things so tenuous between us. “With people you care about.”
He glances over like he knows the omission of that one word is purposeful.
“I could probably have fun with you in a hardware store,” I tell him.
“We’ll see about that,” he says. “You have a loose step on your front porch.”
I laugh. “That thing has been there forever. It’s a game I play to hop over it, especially when I’m carrying loads of groceries.”
“We’re going to fix that step.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “And it’s going to be fun.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Although it might be fun to implement a naked honey-do list rule,” I say.
He shudders. “Hell, no. Naked and tools are not a fun combination.”
The road conditions worsen as the truck climbs higher along the winding mountain road. There are potholes the size of the Oklahoma panhandle littering the dirt track, and we come across a few fallen branches. Twice we have to stop and clear limbs out of our way. But at last, the lake comes into view, and my breath catches in my throat.
“This is amazing.”
The water ripples in the sunlight, cradled on the opposite shore by rugged peaks that burn with the gold of shimmering aspen groves. The scent of pine fills the crisp air, and I can see where the camp structures must have been. Now there’s just wild grass and trees all around us.
“Mike and I used to love it here,” he says and pulls to a stop near the edge of the gravel drive. “We’d dive off the end of the dock and race each other to the other side.”
“Why hasn’t your grandfather done anything with it?”
“Mike’s accident hit him hard.” He looks over at me. “Grandpa was the one who introduced us to midnight boating expeditions. We’d take headlamps and paddle out under the full moon’s light with the sound of the dark forest all around us. It was exciting and dangerous, but my brother and I were dumb enough to think we could recreate that on our own.”
He gets out of the car, and I follow him toward the path that curves up a nearby hillside. The air is cooler up here and I pull my fleece jacket tighter. “Are you okay?”
He pauses, frowning as he studies the lake. “The night Mike died was totally different than boating with Grandpa. We should have known a storm was coming. You could smell rain in the air, and the clouds were so thick the water was pitch black even though it was a full moon. We’d been drinking, of course, and then the rain started, making visibility almost nonexistent.”
“Jake, you don’t have to tell me this,” I say, stepping closer.
He shakes his head. “I want, or maybe I need, to say it out loud. No one in my family talks about him, or that night.”
My heart twists at the vulnerability in his voice. I brush my hand against his arm, wanting to give him whatever space he needs, but also letting him know I’m here.
“We’d been arguing. He was enrolled in Harvard for fall semester, even though he’d been accepted at Stanford, his dream school. But my dad wanted his firstborn to be a Harvard man.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” I murmur.
He barks out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, well, Mikey also had no desire to major in finance like my dad expected. He pretended like he was resigned to the future, but he was so angry and unhappy.”
“It’s hard to see someone you love struggling like that.”
“I wouldn’t let up, pressuring him to do what he wanted to do, be the person he wanted to be.” He drags in a ragged breath. “He jumped in the water to get away from me.”
His words hit me like I’m the one taking the plunge into that icy darkness. “Oh, Jake.”
“We weren’t far off shore, and he was plenty capable of swimming that distance. At first I was pissed because it meant I’d be steering the boat back on my own in the darkness. Then the rain picked up, and the lightning and thunder started. I knew something was wrong. I called for him and shined the flashlight all over the water’s surface, but it was impossible to see anything. I had to trust that he’d make it back.”
“Only he didn’t.”
“I didn’t realize we’d floated into a shallow area.” His voice is low and a little rough. “He hit his head on a rock. They said he died instantly.”
“There was no way you could have known,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing myself against his side.
“I know,” he whispers and turns to face me.
I glance up, but the shadows that have haunted his eyes since that summer aren’t there.
“I finally get that it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my dad’s fault, either, even though I wasted a lot of time blaming him. What happened to Mike was an accident—a tragedy. But I’ll do more to honor his memory by letting go of my guilt and anger than I have by holding onto them like a lifeline. You showed me that, Iris.”
He places a kiss on the top of my head, then takes my hand as we continue up the path. “You’ve dealt with a lot of shit, but you keep moving forward and trying to do better. Maybe I’ve taught you a few things about fun, but you’ve taught me about the value of having peace in my life.”
“Peace and fun. I like that combination.”
“I want to show you a different kind of fun. Something I used to love that I don’t want to be off-limits anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I can’t imagine anything I want more except…” He stops and kisses me again. “Ever done it in the woods?” he asks against my mouth.
“Uh, no way, no how,” I tell him.
He chuckles and his hands move underneath the hem of the sweatshirt I’m wearing under my jacket. “We might have to change that.”
I push at his chest. “One, bears. Two, sap. Three, bears.”
“I’m going to enjoy changing your mind. You’ll see how much fun we can have,” he tells me. “No sap necessary.”
“Are you leading me up this path to some deserted caretaker’s cabin to have your wicked way with me? This isn’t a historical romance, Byrne.”
He cocks his head. “I don’t know what that means, but if it involves you wearing a fancy dress with a low neckline, and I get to untie the laces in the back, I’m all for it.”
“You’d make a good Lord of the Manor.” I laugh. “But I thought your grandfather tore everything down.”
Jake nods. “He demoed the main cabin and smaller structures but left the equipment shed standing. Said even though the accident happened thousands of miles away, the water reminded him of Mike. I planned to rent something from the co-op in town for this outing, but he told me the boat we used to take out is still here.”
He pulls a set of keys from his jeans pocket and approaches the door of the structure, its wooden planks weathered from years of exposure to the high-altitude elements. “He couldn’t bear to get rid of it. Said the memories were good, even if it was too much for any of us to revisit the past.”
“He’s okay with us taking it out today?”
The smile Jake flashes looks more like a grimace. “I have a feeling he thinks my coming up to the lake is an example of my commitment to starting over in Skylark.”
Those words put a damper on my good mood. “Even if you don’t live here full time, you’ll come back for visits and for foundation meetings. That will mean something to him.”
But will it be enough for the two of us?
“Have you ever caught a fish?”
“If by catch, you mean order sushi, then the answer is yes.”
“Come on.”
He unlocks the door. The shed’s interior is dim and musty, and I see the boat propped against one wall and covered with a canvas tarp.
“I think you call this a dinghy,” I tell him when he pulls off the fabric.
“It’s a skiff,” he clarifies.
“Is it seaworthy?” I knock on the edge of the fiberglass boat. It’s small but sturdy, paint faded to a dull silver from years of use.
“I wouldn’t take it out on the open ocean, but it’s perfect for Echoveil Lake.”
“I wonder if I get extra points in the book club for doing more than what was initially expected for my bucket list item.”
“A gold star for being an overachiever?”
“A fun achiever.”
“I’ve got a reward in mind,” he says, a devilish glint in his eye.
“So after the Lord of the Manor stuff, we’re going to move right into teacher-student role play? Got it.”
He indicates that I should take the narrower end of the boat, and we lift it and pull it out into the daylight.
“Yeah, but I’m more a hot-for-teacher kind of guy, so we might have to play that a different way.”
“Oh, naughty schoolboy kink. Is that your thing?”
“You’re my thing,” he clarifies.
Once we get the boat outside into the fresh air, we flip it onto the ground, and Jake returns to the shed for the paddles. It’s not heavy, and we have no trouble carrying it down to the bank. He grabs two rods, a tackle box, and a small cooler from the truck’s bed.
“What else do you have in there?” I ask, standing up on tiptoe like I’m trying to peer over the side. “A small puppy?”
“No puppies. But I have a couple of really nice blankets that will solve your sap problem.”
“What about bear spray?”
He rolls his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m going to have you screaming so loud, animals three states away will be frightened.”
I open my mouth for a snappy comeback, but all of my brain cells have stopped working, traveled south, and are currently doing their own version of a salsa as visions of Jake’s mouth and tongue on my body, not to mention him pumping inside me, fill my mind.
“You know it’s true,” he says, and walks over to plant a deep kiss on my mouth. “And if you don’t shut down that dreamy look in your eyes, we’re not even going to make it out onto the lake.”
Part of me thinks that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I know he’s not exaggerating his ability to make me scream, but going out on the water means something more. And the fact that he’s bringing me along means I’ve done it. I’ve gotten past some of his defenses. I’m not sure when that started being a goal, but it sure feels like a big one to accomplish.
“We’ll manage the sap later,” I tell him, and he laughs again.
My mom had it all wrong. Fun doesn’t have to mean breaking the rules or flaunting convention or creating chaos. Fun can also be found in the quieter, more meaningful moments. And there’s no one I’d rather spend them with than Jake.