Chapter 30
Roman
I squeeze Iris’s hand underneath the dinner table. I mustered the courage to grab it about twenty minutes ago, as we all started devouring the apple pie Iris brought to tonight’s dinner party, and I haven’t let go of it since.
I can’t believe I ever doubted my feelings for this woman. Or thought my feelings for her would fade after I arrived in LA and started my new life. Or, worst of all, that I ever thought I could find “someone like Iris” one day, whenever the timing happened to be better for me.
I was a fool for thinking all of it.
For so long now, I’ve ached for Iris. Dreamed about her.
Kicked myself for not being brave enough to match her openness.
Fantasized about including her in my new life.
Indeed, with each passing day, I became more and more certain not only was I ready to follow in my cousin Marco’s footsteps and settle down, but I was excited to do exactly that.
The only question is whether my yearning for Iris is reliable enough to act upon.
To gamble on, long-term. So, here I am in Orchard Blossom, with my parents and Maverick, intending to do whatever it takes to answer that question with certainty.
“Dinner was so delicious, Mrs. Maguire,” Iris says to my mother across the table.
“I’d love to get your recipe.” She’s referring to the the impressive seafood pasta dish with homemade linguini my mother served this evening.
It’s her specialty—a time-consuming masterpiece Mom only bothers making on special occasions or when she wants to impress someone.
“Only if you give me this pie recipe,” Mom replies to Iris. “It’s the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted.”
Iris blushes. “It’s my mother’s recipe. She grew up in Orchard Blossom, so baking and cooking with apples was a specialty of hers.”
Mom palms her forehead. “Orchard Blossom! I didn’t put it together till now there must be orchards nearby.”
Iris laughs. “Lots of them. Washington produces more apples than any other state in the country. It’s not prime apple-picking season yet, but some nearby orchards have perennials, so we could check them out while you’re here.”
“I’d love to,” Mom gushes. “What about you, Mav? Do you want to pick apples off a tree with Iris?”
“Can I eat dem?” Maverick asks.
“Of course,” Iris says. “An orchard has apple trees as far as you can see, so you can eat as many apples as you can fit into your belly.”
“I love apples,” Maverick exclaims with a grin.
“Then, let’s do it,” Iris says. “I’ll pack us a picnic and we’ll make a day of it. The countryside over there is really beautiful.”
Without hesitation, my shy boy launches into an energetic conversation with Iris about the picnic episode of his favorite show, Bluey. And that’s how I know my boy’s every bit as enamored with Iris as me: He doesn’t get chatty like this with everyone.
As Maverick chats excitedly with Iris, I notice Mom smirking at Dad in a way I’ve seen countless times.
She’s gloating. Nonverbally saying something along the lines of “I told you so.” If I were a betting man, which I am, I’m guessing Mom predicted Maverick would fall head over heels in love with Iris.
Or hell, for all I know, maybe my parents’ bet was about me, and Mom already thinks she’s won it.
When Maverick’s dissertation about Bluey ends, Mom smiles pleasantly at me and says, “Roman, honey, take Iris outside for an after-dinner stroll, while Dad and I do the dishes and put Mav to bed. I noticed the stars are out in full force tonight.”
“Let me do the dishes,” Iris says. “You cooked dinner.”
Mom waves at the air and tells a bald-faced lie.
“No, no, Edward and I love doing dishes together.” In truth, my parents have a maid who does dishes after Mom cooks.
That was my Christmas present to Mom last year, since I know she loves cooking but hates cleaning up.
“Now, go on,” Mom says with a wwshoo of her hands.
“The sky is bursting with stars tonight. It’d be rude to let them go to waste. ”
“Rude?” I ask, laughing.
“To God. He put them there for you to enjoy, darling. So, get out there and enjoy them.”
“Your mom was right,” Iris says, as we walk hand in hand down a quiet lane and look up at the night sky. “The stars are extra spectacular tonight. So beautiful.”
I gaze at Iris as she continues stargazing. “Beautiful.”
“When the stars are out like this,” Iris continues, still looking up, “I feel so tiny—but in a good way. Feeling so tiny makes my problems feel tiny, too.”
I’ve been dying to kiss her since I laid eyes on her in that horse stall today.
She looked like a walking wet dream in those dusty jeans and boots.
But other than kissing her, I’m determined to take things as slow as molasses this week.
All that amazing sex we had in Hawaii? It never happened.
I already know sex with Iris is a dangerous drug—the best sex of my life, by far.
What I don’t know, however, and what I came to Orchard Blossom to find out, is whether the intense, all-encompassing feelings I came to feel for Iris in Kauai almost two months ago, the ones that crept up on me and haven’t faded over time and distance, are powered by more than my dick.
Are these feelings something I can build on, long-term?
That’s what I came to Orchard Blossom to figure out, with the help of my parents and Maverick, since I don’t have time to slowly figure things out over an extended period of time.
Training camp is in mere weeks, and then comes four preseason games, followed by a grueling, all-consuming regular-season schedule that almost never lets up.
If I want to confirm Iris is The One, like I’ve been thinking she might be for almost two months now, then this is pretty much the only block of time I’ll have to figure that out.
I need clarity. Certainty. And I can’t get that if I’m drunk on amazing sex with Iris.
“It’s so clear tonight, I can make out all my favorite constellations,” Iris says, still looking up at the starry night.
“You know enough about constellations to have favorites?”
“Stargazing is a big thing in the Pacific Northwest.”
She stops walking while still looking up, so I stop alongside her.
“See that bright star there?” Iris points up with the hand not holding mine.
“Where?”
“There. See? That’s Altair. It forms one of the corners of the Summer Triangle.” As she explains further, I shift my gaze from her tutorial in the sky to her lovely profile. She’s even more beautiful than I’d remembered.
“Hey,” I whisper, tugging on her hand. Iris stops talking mid-sentence to look at me with blinking, blue eyes. “I don’t think I can wait another second to kiss you, Iris Benedetto.”
She exhales. “Oh, thank God.”
With a smile, I slide my palm to her cheek and press my lips to hers—and, instantly, I’m hurtled into bliss. Our kiss simultaneously feels brand-new and nostalgic—like coming home. It feels right. Like a sacred gear clicking into place. How did I survive for so long without kissing these lips?
When we pull apart, Iris’s chest is heaving and her blue eyes are sparkling in the moonlight. “That was a perfect kiss,” she whispers. “Straight out of a fairy tale.”
My heart expands in my chest. I couldn’t have said it better myself, so I simply touch her cheek and kiss her again.
As our tongues swirl this time, I imagine the stars above our heads swirling in concert.
In a flash, I see my future in a blur. Iris in a white dress.
Babies. Iris wearing the same hideous matching pajamas as the rest of us at one of our Maguire Family Christmases.
I see apple pies, picnics, and pony rides for Maverick.
Family days spent fishing in a stream. Moonlit nights spent impaling Iris to within an inch of her life.
The bottom line is I trust this woman. Like this woman.
And I always have. Right from the start.
She simply doesn’t have it in her to betray me, and that’s priceless.
And on top of everything else, she’s also great with my kid and parents, and sex with her is fire? Seriously now, what more could I want?
When our lips part, we stare at each other in silent awe for a long moment, both of us apparently experiencing the same loss for words.
“I’m so glad you came to Orchard Blossom,” she whispers.
“So am I.”
It’s an understatement.
Holy shit.
I think maybe my feelings for Iris are the real deal.
I think maybe I’m in love with Iris Benedetto.
I think it’s possible I’ve found my future wife.