“I don’t doubt that you’d beat him in a fair fight, but three on one . . . they won’t fight fair.”
She’s right, but the tension in the air is so thick that I can practically feel it on my skin. Jeremy’s messing with me, and it’s only a matter of time before this all comes to a head, because I won’t let him do that again and get away with it. It’s not in my nature to remain calm for long in situations like I was just in.
Iris leans back and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the couch. When I flop down on it, she crawls behind me and massages my shoulders. I close my eyes as her magical fingers dig into the tense muscles around my neck, trying to get me to relax.
I sigh. “Shouldn’t I be the one massaging you? You’re the one who worked all day.”
She continues to work on me. “I think you need it more than I do right now. I’m hoping this will take your mind off the jerks across the street.”
“You’re right. The distraction is nice.” I lean back into her. “Tell me something good about your day.”
“Well . . .” she trails off. “I made nearly two hundred dollars in tips today.”
“That’s great news!” I tell her, excited. “How close are you now to reaching your goal of twenty thousand?”
“If everyone pays their rent on time next week, I’ll have nearly twelve thousand dollars.”
I turn around and kiss her lips. “I’m so proud of you. We’ll figure out the rest when the time comes.”
She shakes her head, causing her brown hair to fall over her shoulders into her face as she stares down at me. “I want to earn this on my own. I don’t want to be your charity case.”
I stare into her green eyes. “You know it wouldn’t be like that. I would give you anything I have if you need it.”
She runs her fingers across my jawline. “And I love you for that, but if I take money from you, it’ll be a loan. I’ll pay you back every dime.”
“Iris—” I begin to argue but she cuts me off with a pointed look. “Fine. A loan it is, but there will be no interest and there are no time limits on paying it back.”
Iris smiles and kisses my lips. “Now that I’ll agree to.”
We spend the rest of the night negotiating the terms of our looming arrangement and planning more of our future, and I do my best to pretend that I’ve forgotten Jeremy, even though what he said about Iris still causes my blood to boil every time I allow my mind to think about it.
IRIS
He has absolutely nothing in this kitchen to eat. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the guy lived on leftover pizza and beer, because that’s all I see in his entire place that’s edible.
“Mornin’,” Ace says as he comes from the back hallway, stretching and wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.
I smile as I appreciate the view of his toned body and bite my lower lip. Everything about the guy is absolutely delicious—his hair, his breathtaking eyes, heart-stopping smile, and that sexy V that cuts in his hips just below his ripped abs. God absolutely smashed the mold when he made him.
“Hey. I hope you don’t mind. I was looking for something to fix us for breakfast, but all you seem to have in here are old leftovers.”
He shakes his head and a lock of his bronze hair falls into his eye. I brush it away as he wraps his arms around me. “Your hair is getting longer. Do you think it’s time to cut it again so you stay incognito?”
He sighs. “It does need a trim. Maybe I’ll do that today while you’re at work. Do you happen to have any scissors I can borrow?”
“Of course. Come on, get dressed. Let’s go to my place so I can feed you, and I’ll get you those scissors.”
It takes forever for us to get dressed because we can’t stop touching, kissing, and fondling each other, but I guess that’s what two people in love do when they can’t get enough of each other.
A weird calm fills the air as we finally make it outside—a feeling like everything is about to change.
The moment we round the corner, I spot the door of my trailer wide open. A chill runs down my spine. Without waiting for Ace, I break into full speed, running toward the doorway. I place my foot on the first step of my porch, and before I can climb up, Ace grabs the back of my coat, effectively yanking me back and not allowing me inside.
“I’ll go first. Whoever did this could still be in there,” Ace orders firmly and then steps between me and the door. “Stay put.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the warning flashing in Ace’s eyes tells me that this isn’t up for negotiation. “Fine, but please hurry. I have to know what’s missing.”
After a quick peck on my forehead, Ace leaves me and then heads inside. “Jesus,” he mutters as he steps inside.
“What? How bad is it?” I question while lingering outside the door as my heart leaps into my throat.
The sound of things toppling over pushes my patience to the brink and I can no longer contain myself from going inside to assess the damage.
I fly up the two wooden steps onto my tiny porch and then make my way inside. My heart drops to my feet as soon as my eyes roam over the scene before me, and I suck in a quick breath. It looks like a tornado went through the place. There’s stuff everywhere. The couch has been flipped forward, resting on its front, along with Gran’s favorite recliner, which has been pushed over and ripped down the back like someone took a knife and sliced through the fabric.