Page 96 of Savage Heart

“God, Iris,” I manage, my voice hoarse.

She smiles shyly and playfully wipes her mouth as she stands. She’s missed a spot, and I wipe it with my finger, grinning as I show her. She takes it and sucks it off, and I nearly come all over again.

I pull her in for another kiss.

“Tell me you see that we can’t be done,” I say. “Now that we know what we’re like together . . . we’re too damn good to walk away from.”

She hesitates, that apprehension creeping back in.

I can feel the tension, the way she’s pulling back even as she stays pressed against me.

“I thought that before . . . with our friendship,” she whispers.

It makes my heart crack open. I deserve all of her fears.

“I’m afraid we’ll crash and burn,” she adds.

I shake my head, cupping her face gently with both hands. “Do you know the agony I’ve lived without you? Do you know how hard it was to let you go? I’ll never forgive myself for not standing by you when Lincoln died. I was blinded by the pain, blinded by grief. And I’m ashamed to admit this, but for the longest time, I was angry at both of you for sleeping together . . . hurt that you had his baby and not mine.” My voice catches. “But I’ve never stopped loving you, Iris.”

She slides out of my hold and takes a few steps away. I hurriedly tuck myself in and button my jeans before following her.

“It was only the one time,” she says.

“What?”

“Lincoln and I only slept together once, the night of prom. We were both drunk and could hardly remember anything the next day . . . and we knew it would never happen again.”

“Oh.” I blink, a little stunned. “That’s not how I built it up in my head. I had it all wrong. I wish we’d talked.”

“I did try,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine.

“I know you did. I wish I’d listened. I was just so fucking—” I shake my head.

She shifts on her feet, and the silence is heavy. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

“I should get home before Linc goes to bed.”

“Okay,” I say, deflated. “Come to the ranch tomorrow. Please. You and Linc. Spend the day with me.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?”

“It’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

Her eyes tilt up, and I can breathe again.

“Okay,” she says softly.

I reach out and take her hand, lifting it up to press a kiss on her palm.

“It’s a date.” I give her a tentative smile.

“Um, it’s us coming over . . . I wouldn’t call that a date.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get,” I tell her, and it’s the truth. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”

She swallows hard. I’m not sure that was the right thing to say, but it’s how I feel, and I’ve decided that I’m going with that from now on. That was my first mistake—pushing down how I really felt about her. I won’t do that again.

“Good night, Maverick.” She starts to walk away.