12. Iris
12
IRIS
Before today, I’d never been around a group of strangers who felt more like family than my own blood.
“Iris, honey. Do you want another serving?” Brax’s grandma, Betty, asks me as she stands over me with a spatula full of eggplant parm. But it’s not just regular eggplant parm. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted…exactly as promised.
“Um.” I glance down at my empty plate, wondering if I’ll even be able to walk after this meal.
“You have room for a little more,” she says, not waiting for me to say yes before sliding the mountain of cheese-covered veg onto my plate.
Tate laughs at my side. “You have to learn to say no to her or else you’ll need a new wardrobe.”
I drag my eyes to hers, already wishing I had on a pair of leggings with an elastic waist instead of her skintight jeans. “I can’t say no. Not yet.”
Gigi, the cousin from Florida, rubs her stomach. “Your parm may be better than my grams’,” she says to Betty.
Betty stops dead in her tracks and turns toward Gigi with the biggest smile on your face. “That’s quite a compliment.”
I lean over toward Tate, dropping my voice. “I don’t know what you two were talking about. Your grandmother is lovely.”
Tate stares at me without a smile. “Wait until after dinner. She’s being good right now.”
My stomach turns, and I’m not sure if it’s because of what happens after the meal is served or because I ate enough to feed a small family of people and not just myself. “Great,” I whisper.
“I love nights like this,” Brax’s grandfather—Tino, as he told me to call him—says from the head of the table.
He’s exactly how I pictured him after hearing his voice over the phone while he talked to Brax. He’s stunningly handsome with his salt-and-pepper hair. I can imagine the way he had the ladies swooning in his younger years because I’m pretty sure, even at his age, he could be quite the catch for women even decades younger than himself.
Will Brax look like him in forty years? Probably. There isn’t an ordinary-looking person around this table. Not even the ones who married into the family. I suddenly feel plain in a world of pretty, and that doesn’t often happen to me.
I’m not stunning or model-worthy. I’m cute with thick curves, big boobs, and a nose that I’m thankful I’ll never need to have surgery on to have it fit my face. I’m not conceited about my looks, nor am I down on myself either. I’m happy with who I am, how I look, and how my body fills out a pair of jeans…even if they’re too tight tonight.
Tate and Gigi look like they could be sisters. The genes are strong in this family even when passed down along different familial lines. Gigi’s grandfather and Tate’s grandfather are brothers, and it shows. But it’s their husbands who have caught my attention even more. They’re both brooding men, covered in tattoos and facial hair that would make most every woman drool with a single glance. It’s like they ordered them out of a catalogue of pure male, inked perfection.
And as my gaze swings to Brax, I realize he’d be on a page in that same catalogue. Dark hair, dark eyes, covered in tattoos, the right amount of facial hair to deliciously prickle my skin if he nestled between my legs.
“Babe,” Tate says, elbowing me. “You okay?”
I blink a few times, clearing my thoughts. “Yeah. Why?”
“I was talking to you, and you zoned out. It’s like you went somewhere else. ”
I don’t want to tell her that I was thinking about how hot her man is, because hot damn…he is.
“I’m in an eggplant coma.”
She gives me a big smile. “Been there. Done that. Sometimes I take a trip there, but I try not to overeat. All the cheese goes right to my hips.”
Wylder slides his arm around his wife’s chair, leaning into her space until his mouth is next to her ear. “I love those hips. They were made for me.”
Tate’s face pinkens as she turns her face toward him until their lips are almost touching. “Not here,” she whispers.
I swallow, suddenly burning from the inside. He oozes alpha male sexuality with a heavy dose of virility.
Wylder’s eyes search hers. “We have the house to ourselves tonight, and I plan to take full advantage of the time alone and your body.”
My breath lodges in my throat. Damn. If she’s not panting yet, I know she will be soon. I’m panting for the both of us, and I’m not even the one he’s talking to.
“Save room for dessert!” Betty yells from the kitchen.
“Shit. I don’t know if I can eat anything else,” Gigi says softly so Betty can’t hear.
Pike, Gigi’s husband, covers her hand with his. “You’re lucky I don’t feel the same way.” He winks at her, and I almost fall off my chair .
Betty walks into the room with a giant casserole dish and stops near her husband. Santino wraps his arm around her legs, gripping her thigh. “Whatcha got, baby?”
Betty gazes down at him, and I can see the love in her eyes and his too. “Your favorite.”
“Tiramisu?” he asks her, trying to peek into the dish.
“That’s your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” she asks him, showing him the most beautiful tiramisu I’ve ever seen.
“Besides you, it is,” he replies.
I fan myself with my fingers. The sexual energy from everyone is overwhelming.
“Old people,” Tate mutters. “Ick.”
“You okay?” Brax asks me this time, sliding his hand onto my thigh before giving me a squeeze.
I close my eyes, trying to block out the urge to throw myself at him in front of everyone. “Just hot,” I tell him.
“You want to step outside and cool off?” he asks, sliding his chair out.
“Please,” I tell him. “Just for a minute.”
As soon as his hand moves from my thigh, I instantly miss the contact and the heat. “Come on,” he says, holding out his hand to me.
I slide my palm against his, and I ignore the way my body reacts from the contact. It’s like his grandmother put an aphrodisiac into the food tonight. What in the world is wrong with me?
“Don’t go for long. Coffee’s almost ready,” Betty says as she glances our way.
“Five minutes, Gram,” he replies as he pulls me up from my chair like I weigh nothing.
Betty smiles with a dip of her head. “I’ll dish you out two plates. Iris, do you want me to wrap up your eggplant to go?”
“I’d love that,” I tell her, hoping I’ll still be breathing when tomorrow comes so I can enjoy the leftovers.
“You got it, sweetheart,” Betty says with a wink.
Brax pulls me gently toward the stairs that go down into the bar. His grandparents live above the space and have since they opened the bar decades ago. I have no idea what it’s like being in the same spot for so long. I moved around enough in my life that I’m not sure where home is sometimes.
As soon as the cold air of the alley hits my skin, I’m able to take my first deep breath in hours.
“Hey,” Brax says, pulling me toward him until my body is flush with his.
I tip my head back, staring up into his dark eyes in the dim lighting outside the bar. “Hey,” I whisper as my gaze dips to his mouth.
“You good?”
“I’m better,” I breathe, pressing my chest into his.
He places his palm against my cheek, brushing his thumb underneath the curve of my bottom lip. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper as my entire body tingles from the contact with his body.
He bends his neck, bringing his lips close to mine as his eyes are glued to me. “Still okay?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice cracking as my body buzzes with anticipation.
Yeah, Betty definitely put something in that eggplant. If everybody in their apartment feels like I do, there’re going to be a few babies arriving before this time next year.
The cool air crackles around us like it’s charged with some invisible sexual force.
“I’ve been dying to do this all day,” he says softly.
I’ve been dying for him to do it too. I wondered if he’d changed his mind about getting involved with me because of all the crap with Lucas and Malakai. Ever since we got out of bed, things seemed to shift, but I guess I’m wrong. This moment proves that nothing has changed. Brax wants me as much as I want him.
“Do it,” I tell him, curling my fingers into the soft material at the back of his hoodie.
His mouth touches mine as I squeeze my eyes shut, watching the fireworks behind my eyelids. The kiss isn’t soft. Brax takes what he wants, and I give it to him willingly, losing myself in him.
I kiss him back like it’s the last time, and it might be. If things go bad with Malakai tonight… I push th at thought from my head, refusing to think about anything except this moment and this kiss.
Brax digs his fingers into the skin at the back of my neck, sending tingles scattering everywhere in my body. I wanted him before, but now the yearning is so overwhelming, I’m not sure I could stay upright without an arm around my back.
If I could drop to my knees right now and worship him, I would. But I remind myself we’re in public. Anyone could see. Tonight isn’t about that either. Not even this moment is about that. This is about the connection we feel and the need to connect in a way we couldn’t in front of his family.
Our tongues tangle as our breathing grows more rushed. “I want you,” I moan into his mouth, done hiding exactly how I feel.
I’ve wasted enough of my life the last few years, thinking there had to be something wrong with me for Lucas to ditch me at the last moment. I picked poorly, and I’m not going to do that again. If Brax is anything like the men in that apartment upstairs, he’ll worship me the same way those men worship their wives. I want that. I need that. I could have that with Brax. My heart knows that. My body knows that. And now my mind does too.
The sound of wood scraping in the distance hits my ears but does nothing to make me stop as I move my fingers under his hoodie, finding the hot skin of his lower back .
“Coffee’s ready.” His grandmother’s voice fills the alley.
Brax breaks the kiss and hisses. “Sorry,” he says as he rests his forehead against mine, trying to drag in a deep breath.
I feel dizzy and drunk, but not because of the small amount of wine I had with dinner. This is the effect Brax has on me. My entire world spins out of control when our bodies connect. It’s as if all the stars in the darkened sky above us aligned and a cosmic event happened when we joined together to form one entity.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, seeing Betty watching us from the window above the bar.
“We’ll finish this later,” Brax says before he straightens his body and pulls his forehead away from mine. “And that’s a promise.”
My knees somehow get weaker at the promise of things to come, and Brax tightens his arm around me as if he knows the effect his words will have on me.
“You’re going to be my dessert.”
I can only stare up at him. The need that fills me is too much to allow me the ability to form any coherent words.
“It’s getting cold,” Betty says, not giving us any more time alone.
“Tiramisu is cold,” Brax calls out to her.
“The coffee,” she says back.
“You ready for this?” he asks .
“I’m ready for anything,” I tell him, but I leave out the part about being able to face anything as long as he’s with me. I’ve never felt the type of safety I feel when he’s near me, and it’s almost unnerving the power he has over me.
“Here we go,” he says as he takes my hand and heads toward the back door.
Somehow, I polish off the plate of tiramisu and the entire cup of coffee. I think a part of me figured as long as there was something in my mouth, I wouldn’t think about being dessert later or having to answer any questions.
I am wrong on both counts.
“How did you two meet?” his grandmother asks.
“She was at the bar,” Brax tells her, his hand covering mine, stroking his thumb across my skin.
“A drinker, eh?” Betty asks as she eyes me.
I shake my head. “No. I can’t.”
“You can’t?” she asks, the confusion clearly written all over her face.
“A medical condition. I can have a drink, but anything more is a problem.”
“No. She was there to meet someone,” Brax tells her, skating right over the issue with me sleepwalking when I have a little too much, especially if it is hard liquor.
“A friend?” Betty asks again.
“Blind date, but they didn’t show,” I say with a shrug. Thank God they didn’t too, or I wouldn’t be here right now. I very well could’ve been dead at this point because of Lucas.
“Their loss is my gain,” Brax tells his grandmother.
“And the weather was shit, so she stayed in the apartment above Inked,” Tate tells her grandmother. “And he stayed too.”
A smile forms on Betty’s lips. “And this man…the one who got you into trouble with Malakai?”
Brax squeezes my hand and thankfully speaks before I have a chance to. “He’s her ex from years ago.”
“Men,” Betty mutters. “Always a pain in the ass.”
No truer words.
Betty continues, “Well, it’s perfect timing that you found my grandson when you did. It’s like you two were put together for a reason. Malakai isn’t a man to mess with, but luckily for you, Tino and he have a relationship.”
“The world works in mysterious ways,” I say to her, peering over at Brax, who’s staring back at me.
“At least it’s your ex,” Gigi says, wading into the conversation. She tips her head toward her husband. “This one pulled me into some shit in his personal life that almost left me dead.”
“Hey,” Pike says as he strokes the top of her shoulder with his fingers. “I had no idea my dad was into bad shit. ”
“He wasn’t just into bad shit—he almost killed me with his bare hands,” she argues.
My eyes widen in shock.
“I saved you, darlin’. I’d never let anyone hurt you, not even my father,” he says to her before brushing his lips against her temple.
“We’ve all been traumatized by the men in our lives,” Betty says with a sigh. “Tino brought more shit into our lives than I care to remember or can even explain in detail…”
“Wylder never traumatized me,” Tate replies to Betty before she can finish her statement.
“The ex-wife,” Betty says with a pointed glare.
Wylder lifts a hand and dips his chin. “I can’t control that crazy-ass woman.”
“Is she still a problem?” Betty asks him and not her granddaughter.
“She’s been dealt with and is no longer an issue.”
I want to ask what that means because it sounds more sinister than it probably is—at least, I hope so.
“She’s completely out of the picture.” Tate smiles at her grandmother. “For good.”
Tino’s chair scrapes against the hardwood as he pushes it back. “I’m going to steal Brax and Iris to talk about what’s going to happen tonight,” he announces to the table.
“Be quick,” Betty tells him.
“Woman, it’ll take as long as it takes,” he says as he swats her ass playfully, earning himself a glare that’s so intense it would make me wither. “Ten minutes, tops.”
“Fine,” she says.
Brax rises and I follow, leaving the warm company of the dining room to figure out how we’re going to get rid of Malakai and keep me breathing.
I’m not ready to die.
I want more of whatever tonight was for as long as I can possibly have it.