She paused, took a deep breath. Iris couldn’t even get a sip of air, her entire body locked up and on alert.
“You asked me to leave,” Stevie went on. “And I didn’t know what to do. I ended up at River Wild Books and I was a mess. Ruby was there. So was Claire, but I didn’t know it was her store. She found me and just . . . gave me some tea. That’s all.”
“That’s all?”
Stevie sighed. “I might have confessed a few feelings to Claire. I guess Ruby overheard.”
Iris’s own eyes stung, a pinch in her heart she couldn’t parse as she processed this information. “And this . . . these dates. This was all for me?”
Stevie shrugged. “Ruby was right. I was wooing you.”
“Wooing me.”
Stevie closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. When she opened them again, she took a step closer to Iris. “I know you’ve had some shitty people say they love you. I know you don’t think you’re built for dating and relationships. And if you truly don’t want that in your life, fine. I won’t argue with you. But I wanted you to be sure. I wanted to show you.”
Tears spilled down Iris’s cheeks. “Show me what?”
Stevie took another step closer. Iris didn’t move back. She couldn’t. There were only inches between them now and it felt like too much.
“Show me what, Stevie?” she asked again.
Stevie rested her hands on Iris’s waist, tentatively, as though waiting for Iris to stop her. She didn’t. Instead, she gripped Stevie’s forearms, her breathing loud and heavy. She felt herself fading, disappearing, the strong, secure, confident, no-bullshit Iris Kelly vanishing right before her eyes. In her place was a woman whose heart felt tender and raw. A woman who was tired, so fucking tired of fighting the way Stevie Scott made her feel.
Because Iris could see it now—these dates, every move Stevie had made since they embarked on this whole ridiculous deal together, it had all been chipping away at Iris’s icy heart, bit by bit, showing her that she . . . that Stevie . . . that Iris . . .
“Show me what?” she asked one more time. “Stevie.”
Stevie pressed her forehead to Iris’s. “That you’re worth loving.”
It was so simple. Just four words, barely whispered, but they felt like a bomb landing right on its target. Iris exploded—her heart, her mind, her skin. She was just a shell of the person she was even seconds ago, and she didn’t know how to put herself back together, how to do anything but simply dive into the explosion, join it, become one with all the shrapnel.
“Well, it fucking worked,” she said, her voice shaking as she slid her hands into Stevie’s hair and pulled her in for a kiss. And this time, Stevie didn’t settle for a single press of their mouths. She opened her mouth to Iris’s, wrapping her arms around Iris’s waist, hands trailing up her back and into Iris’s hair to her shoulders, then curling around her neck to cup her face, thumbs swiping at her cheeks.
Stevie held her like that, tongue exploring Iris’s, her mouth sliding to Iris’s ear, her neck, all the while holding her face like Iris was some kind of treasure Stevie had been searching for and had finally, finally found.
Iris breathed her in, all summer nights and grass, slid her hands under her navy T-shirt, fingertips gliding over her soft skin. God, she wanted this woman. Wanted all of her, and she didn’t know what that meant, or how she’d face the fear that she knew was still lying dormant in her heart.
All she knew was that she couldn’t say no.
She didn’t want to.
For the first time in over a year, maybe even since Grant or before—maybe for the first time in her life—she wanted to say yes, to everything, every word and every question and every quiet look.
Yes, yes, yes.
“Stevie,” she said against Stevie’s mouth.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, her breath beautifully labored.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything,” Stevie said, pressing a kiss to Iris’s temple. “Ask me anything.”
“Will you take me home?” Iris framed Stevie’s face in her hands, tucked a curl behind her ear. “Take me home, Stevie Scott, and take me to bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
IT TOOK THEM forever to get back to Iris’s apartment.
Stevie had never experienced a panic attack caused from sheer happiness, but she was pretty sure she was on the verge. She could barely breathe as they rushed through the fair and onto Bright Falls’ cobbled sidewalks, and she kept getting distracted by Iris’s scent, her laughter, the way she tasted when Stevie pulled her into the alley between the bakery and the post office, kissing her against the brick wall until they were both moaning.
“We need a bed,” Iris panted into her mouth.
“I’m working on it,” Stevie said, then kissed her again, hips pressing into hers, Iris’s finger digging into Stevie’s shoulders.
“Are you though?” Iris said, laughing.
“I mean, you’re making it really hard to focus.”
“I’m just a girl standing in front of another girl, asking her to fuck her senseless.”
“Exactly,” Stevie said, burying her face in Iris’s neck. “I can barely walk just thinking about it.”
Then Iris bit Stevie’s earlobe, and Stevie’s entire body broke out in goose bumps.
“Not helping,” she said.
Iris grinned evilly and Stevie pulled them back onto the street, not slowing down, not even glancing Iris’s way until they were inside Iris’s building and climbing the stairs to her unit.
But then there was the door to contend with, and Stevie couldn’t resist pressing her body against Iris’s back as she dug into her bag for her keys, sliding her hands around her hips and down to that delicious warmth between her legs.
“Fuck,” Iris said, ass pushing against Stevie’s thighs. She finally got the key in the door and was in the process of turning the lock when Stevie remembered.
“Oh shit,” she said, covering Iris’s hand on the doorknob with her own.
“What’s wrong?” Iris asked, then laughed. “I need to get you inside right the hell now.”
“Okay, yes, but . . .” Stevie said. “I sort of forgot that I had something delivered to your apartment this afternoon when you were writing at the coffee shop.”
Iris froze, turned to look at Stevie over her shoulder. “For real?”
Stevie just grinned. “Wooing, remember?”
Iris’s eyes searched hers, her expression nothing less than wondrous. She leaned in and kissed Stevie softly. “I love it.”
“You don’t even know what it is yet,” Stevie said.
“I don’t care. I still love it.”
Stevie kissed her, then let her open the door. They stepped into Iris’s dimly lit apartment, and the smell hit them first.
Sweet and organic. Earthy.
“Oh my god,” Iris said, clicking on the lamp she had on the console table in the entryway for more light.
Color exploded throughout the living room and kitchen, at least ten Mason jars full of purple flowers covering the space.
“Purple bearded irises,” Iris said, picking up a jar and pressing her face into the flowers. “How did you know these are my favorite?”