Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
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.
Chapter 31
Iris
“What’s your favorite flavor?” I ask Maverick.
We’re standing in line with Mav’s hunky daddy at Orchard Blossom’s only proper ice cream parlor, deciding what to order. Sadly, it’s the last full day of Roman’s stay, and I have no idea what will happen next. If Roman invited me to join him in LA tomorrow, I’d say yes this time. But will he ask? And if he does, for how long would he want me to stay?
“Chocolate,” Maverick says without hesitation. It’s not a surprise. When I took these two to Orchard Blossom’s only bakery earlier this week, Maverick picked a cookie the size of his head that was bursting with chocolate chips.
I’ve spent every day with Roman this week. And it’s been glorious. Sometimes, with Roman alone. Other times, like today, with Roman and his adorable son. Still other times, with Roman’s whole family in tow.
Early in the week, I invited Roman’s entire family to Dad’s house for a reciprocal dinner party. Much to my relief, everyone got along stupendously. In fact, the Maguires were so down-to-earth and easygoing when they arrived, I quickly forgot to feel insecure about our tiny, modest house.
My brother, Atlas, hilariously dropped everything at school to race home for that dinner party, by the way. Apparently, Atlas selects Roman as his fantasy football quarterback every year, so he insisted he’d rather fail the test he should have been studying for than miss the chance to meet and have dinner with his football idol. When Atlas told me that, I wished so badly I could have assured him there’d be other chances for him to meet Roman in the future. Plenty of them. But since I have no idea what Roman is thinking about in terms of me and what lies ahead, I regrettably couldn’t say that to my brother with any degree of confidence.