Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)(22)

“I love the hell out of you,” she said to Claire now, then pulled back and beamed at Delilah. “Both of you.”

“I’m touched, Kelly,” Delilah said wryly, but she was smiling.

“Show us the ring!” Astrid said as she got up and came over to Iris’s other side, settling on the arm of the wooden chair. Iris leaned into her.

Delilah scowled. “We’re really going to do all the squealing over the rings?”

“Hell yes, we are,” Jordan said. “Cough it up, Green.”

Delilah pursed her lips, then winked at Claire in a way that made Claire audibly sigh.

Jesus, these two. Iris kissed Claire’s temple.

Delilah finally displayed a very important finger, upon which sat a square black diamond with a black rhodium band that swirled over the centerpiece stone. Very Delilah.

“Wait, so you asked Delilah?” Iris asked Claire.

Claire nodded. “It just sort of happened. I was in Portland this past Tuesday night for a reading at Graydon Books—that queer romance author I really want to do some events with you at River Wild, Ris—and I stopped by this little curiosity shop afterward. I found this ring and it was like . . . I don’t know. I just knew I wanted the ring, and I wanted Delilah to wear it.”

“I’ll never take it off again,” Delilah said, and Iris didn’t even think she was being sarcastic.

“How’s Ruby?” Astrid asked. “Is she excited?”

“She was actually with me when I got the ring,” Claire said. “She spotted it first. And, yeah, she’s really excited.”

“Who wouldn’t want me as their super awesome, cool-as-hell stepmom?” Delilah said. “Show them yours, babe.”

Claire brandished her own hand, which was now sporting a gorgeous vintage yellow diamond, the very same style Iris and Delilah had discussed about a month ago.

“Luckily, I had it on hand,” Delilah said.

“For months,” Claire said, stretching out her fingers. “You’ve had my ring since Christmas.”

“That’s gorgeous,” Simon said, inspecting Claire’s ring.

“Okay, let’s talk details,” Astrid said, clapping her hands. “At the Everwood, next summer. Or maybe spring? I’m thinking outside, with a gauzy tent that—”

“Shit, Claire, we’re eloping,” Delilah said.

Claire laughed. “Ruby would never forgive us.”

“Oh my god, Ruby as your maid of honor,” Iris said, then her tears started flowing again, because apparently, she was a fucking mess, a status she was not enjoying.

So Iris did what she did best.

She got loud and funny and opinionated.

“A toast!” she said, grabbing her glass of champagne Bria had placed on the table in lieu of their actual order, and climbing onto one of the wrought iron chairs. Eyes followed her like bugs to a blue light, even those brunching at the inn who weren’t with her party. She felt the attention, felt it soak into her bones, making her feel strong and invincible.

“Here she goes,” Delilah said, but she was smiling, and Iris smiled back, a coy little grin over her shoulder as she flourished the hem of her floral dress over her knees. Claire had joined Delilah, their arms around each other, and all five of her dear friends were beaming up at her.

This was the Iris they knew.

This was the Iris they loved.

“Damn right,” she said. “Now, a toast. To the most nauseatingly beautiful couple the Pacific Northwest has ever seen.”

“Should we be offended?” Jordan said to Astrid, who just laughed and kissed her girlfriend’s cheek.

“And to,” Iris went on, “a lifetime of happiness, joy, and enough great sex to keep Delilah from lighting the world on fire.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Claire said, blushing.

Delilah just shook her head, but she tipped her glass to Iris.

Iris laughed, then drained her entire drink in three, nose-burning gulps.





AN HOUR LATER, Iris ran across the inn’s gravel parking lot back to her car. She’d started to feel better during talks of venues and dates, smiling and laughing about how she was going to throw the happy couple a sex toy shower—she absolutely was—but now her chest ached.

She found out why when she fell into her Subaru’s driver’s seat and immediately burst into tears again.

She wiped furiously at her face, berating herself for acting like such a baby. She was happy for Claire and Delilah.

“I’m fucking happy!” she yelled and banged her fists on her steering wheel.

“Sure looks like it.”

She yelped at the deep voice, jumping so high, her head brushed the roof of her car.

Simon Everwood peered down at her through the window.

She exhaled, clutching at her chest. She should play this off, she knew. No good could come from her whining about being single, for god’s sake, but her face was already a mascara-streaked, blotchy mess, and she didn’t have the fucking energy.

She lifted her hands and let them slap back down into her lap, sniffing snot back into her runny nose.

Simon rounded the car, opened the passenger door, and slid inside. Then he turned to face Iris and proceeded to simply stare at her with this expectant expression that made her want to smack his glasses off his face.