Enticing Iris

by Cherrie Lynn

  Or so she thought. Her phone lit up, its brightness discernible even through her closed eyelids. Iris reached to the night stand and picked it up, squinting at the message.

  Elijah.

  I’m in the pool. Where are you?

  She sat up, clenching her eyes shut and opening them again, resetting them because obviously she was seeing things.

  But those words were still there.

  I’m in bed, she wrote back. Shouldn’t you be?

  Needed to unwind. You should join me.

  Why?

  Why not?

  She sat in bed for a long time, staring at her phone, pondering her choices. Then she realized her bedroom was on the second story on the back of the house. It should have a nice view of the pool below. Tossing back her covers, she got to her feet and tiptoed across the plush carpet to the window—why the heck was she tiptoeing? It wasn’t as if he could hear her. Shaking her head, she pulled the blackout drapes back a few inches and peered down.

  Indeed, she could make out his darker silhouette in the blue glow of the water, lounging near the side, his phone in his hands. As she looked, his head lifted, and he stared right at her. Iris dropped the curtain, nearly in a panic.

  I see you, he texted a moment later. You’re tempted. Come on down. The water’s great. The rest of the house is in bed. I have the wine you and Mom didn’t finish.

  But I’m tired. Her heart thudded madly. Tired was suddenly the last thing she was. Adrenaline coursed madly through her veins.

  I don’t want to swim laps, Iris.

  What did he want? The man was driving her crazy. “Sara,” she muttered to herself, closing her messages and thumbing her way to her contacts. “Help.”

  Her best friend answered right away with a squeal of delight. “You’ve finally quit rubbing elbows with the rich and famous long enough to remember us little people?”

  “Help me. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Sara immediately sobered, but her tone still implied she thought she might hear something juicy. “What’s going on?”

  “You know I can’t say much.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “But, um . . . the kids I watch? I work for the mom, right, but there’s a dad in this equation too, and I think something might be going on here.”

  “Oh shit, Iris. Are you shitting me? You’re shitting me.”

  “I think I— God, I don’t know!” Cringing at her own outburst, she lowered her voice and repeated, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay, so back up. What are you doing? Something made you call me at this very moment at this time of night.”

  “He wants me to go to the pool with him. Just us. Kids in bed, private residence. No one around. Things have been kind of weird between us. Kind of . . . flirty? I don’t know.”

  “I’m not even going to ask how this situation has come about, because I know you won’t tell me anyway.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re seriously asking me for advice?”

  “Yes. Give me advice that you know is best for me.”

  “That isn’t what you want, Iris, or you wouldn’t have called me. You want me to tell you to go fuck that man’s brains out. Because you know that’s what I’ll say.”

  “Even if it could put my job, my very future in this industry, in jeopardy?”

  “How? Only if the mom finds out, right? And why would she care? I assume they’re divorced or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I know you’re not that bad.”

  “They’re divorced. But still, he should be off-limits as my boss’s ex-husband. There are ethical boundaries at play here.”

  “Fuck ethics. I still say go enjoy yourself. Hopefully this dude can erase all memory of fuckstick.” Fuckstick was her pet name for Jacob.

  “How can I face everyone if I do this?”

  “With your head held high and a giant shit-eating grin?”

  “If the mom finds out, I’m so fired. I’ll be out of these kids’ lives. It would break my heart.”

  “Iris, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here.”

  “What?”

  “Make the dad fall head over heels for you, then no matter what, you’re in those kids’ lives.”

  Never in a million years would that happen. She knew it deep down, but still the idea set off a swarm of giddy butterflies in her belly. “But I could get fired by the mom and dumped by the dad, and then what?”

  “Well, we take our chances, don’t we?”

  “God.”

  “You want him. Right? You totally want him.”

  Iris drew a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. “I want him.” And you want him too, Sara, he’s your rock husband, she added silently, but she was dealing with so many moral dilemmas right now that she couldn’t stress over Sara’s crush on Eli on top of everything else. Even with it, she knew her friend would give Iris her full blessing.

  “Then go see if he can make you call him Daddy.”

  “Sara!”

  “And Iris? Communicate. You’re a modern woman. Go for what you want, but if he’s not okay with any of your boundaries, then forget him. I hope I’ve taught you well.”

  “You taught me well, but I don’t know how much of it I’ve absorbed.”

  “I’ve done all I can do. The rest is up to you. Make me proud. I hope you took a bikini. I want a full report as soon as you can.” With that, Sara hung up.

  Bikini, Iris thought. Yes, she had a bikini. The one Talia had bought her. If she dared to wear that piece of floss.

  ELI WASN’T MUCH OF a wine drinker, but his mother had good taste. He took a swig of the expensive Cabernet Sauvignon, then leaned his head back on the edge of the pool and stared up the moon. It peered down like a wide-open all-seeing eye, brilliant enough to obliterate all but the brightest stars in the velvety black sky.

  Give him a float and he would happily sleep out here. He was looking forward to getting the kids and Iris out on the water as soon as they had some coastal dates.

  And Iris.

  In a very short amount of time, she had become a part of their unit. He could scarcely think about his sons without thinking of her too. And her eyes. And her smile.

  Inviting her out here tonight had made him feel like a naughty teenager again, sneaking out of his parents’ house to see someone he knew he shouldn’t. Except he knew his parents would be overjoyed for him to be with someone like her. His mom had all but said it tonight after Iris had gone to her room to get ready for bed.

  “About time you brought me a sweet one, Eli.” He’d laughed it off, but he hadn’t denied it. She was sweet, and she was lovely, and goddamn, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head.

  Especially since she’d executed a perfect ambush on him in laser tag tonight. He’d wanted to grab her then and topple her to the floor.

  He hadn’t laughed so much in a very, very long time.

  Soft footfalls reached him, so quiet he thought for a moment he’d imagined them. Until he raised his head and saw her.

  She stood silently at the edge of the pool, reminding him of her impressive stealth tactics tonight, and he swallowed hard.

  Gone was the modest black swimsuit he’d seen her in a few times. Now . . .

  Her hair tumbled loose and wild around her slim shoulders, which were almost silvery in the moonlight’s kiss. Her bikini top was some light color, an insubstantial thing that would fall away with one tug of a string. Around her hips she’d wrapped a sarong, but it sat low and offered an ample view of her belly and the shadowed dimple of her navel.

  A wild, almost irresistible urge seized him, to explore every inch of that skin with his hands. His mouth. Lay her out and fucking feast on her. But he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t for a quick lay. “Glad you came,” he said, hearing the strain in his own voice.

  Demurely, she stepped forward, extended a shapely leg, and dipped her toe in the water. “Ooh, that is nice,” she said, and he thought he detected a l
ittle strain in her voice as well.

  “Come on in.”

  He watched as she unwound her cover, revealing the perfect, slender proportions of her hips, then stepped down into the water. There was nothing voluptuous about Iris; hers was a serene beauty, with those slight feminine curves he would be able to hold in one hand. Fuck, but he wanted to test out that theory, see how perfectly she fit to him. He was kind of sorry, kind of glad when she submerged herself in the water, taking those curves out of his sight. He liked looking at her, but should he need to get out of the water in a hurry for any reason, he might have some explaining to do.

  Iris leaned her head back to wet down her hair, then swam over to him, keeping a safe distance between them as she folded her arms on the side of the pool. Her eyes alighted on the bottle of wine, and he silently poured her a glass and slid it over to her.

  “Didn’t figure you for much of a wine drinker,” she said, taking a sip. “But this is so good.”

  “I’m not, but you’re right. Good stuff.”

  “You probably like something a little harder, huh?”

  “I was never much of a drinker at all,” he said, struggling not to let his mind drift back on dark times. No, he’d had his vices, but alcohol had never been a major one.

  She seemed to recognize the little edge of turmoil in those words, sipping in silence for a moment. “I really love your parents,” she said at last. “You’re lucky.”

  “I am. I know it. We didn’t always have it easy, but we always had love.”

  “That’s more than a lot of kids have.”

  He’d never enjoyed this part of relationships. The feeling each other out, questing for information while trying not to verge on off-limits territory. Iris definitely had those hidden, inaccessible places in her soul. He’d heard the hollow ring in her words just now.

  He was supposed to be the tortured rock star. And yeah, he did have a lot of shit he worked out on stage. Every night, in front of thousands of people, he let his demons out to play. What lurked in her psyche that she had to keep bottled up? What were her dreams, her joys in life?

  His kids, he supposed. If she hadn’t known love growing up, then maybe she compensated by shining her own love on them as brightly as she could. The thought made him ache. He wanted to know this woman, unearth everything she wasn’t saying when her eyes grew distant and dark, seeing things only she could see.

  Touch her. Do something. Say something.

  That was the other thing he hated about this dance, the not knowing whether any advance he made would be met with acceptance or scorn or a slap across the face. Especially with her. She was so on guard, and he hadn’t had to really try with a woman for quite a long time. For years now, if he wanted them, they fell into his arms. And that was great. But not this time. Not her.

  He’d never had a drinking problem, but as the silence stretched out unbearably, he wanted to kill the rest of the wine in the bottle. Inviting her out here had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he had her, he found he didn’t know what the hell to do with her.

  Twenty-Five

  For some reason, he wasn’t talking. She had kept a few feet between them, and he didn’t disturb it. Iris began to relax somewhat, feeling that strange pang of intermingled relief and disappointment he so often stirred within her.

  But there were a couple of topics that could always get Elijah Vance talking. Hopefully those topics were in bed asleep and not spying right now. “So, of course I’ve figured out by now that the boys are named after famous musicians named Bob.”

  He grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Was that your idea or Heidi’s?”

  “Mine. Bob Seger is my dad’s favorite. Bob Dylan is my mom’s.”

  “That’s neat. But what if one of them had been a girl?”

  “She would’ve been Marley.”

  “I love that.” Iris found herself thinking about how adorably protective the boys would be over a baby sister. Then she ventured, “Is it weird that I’ll miss them when I go home? Even for a few days?”

  He chuckled. “No. I miss them all the time. I look at them now, and I can’t believe how big they’ve gotten.”

  Her heart gave a painful throb for him, especially knowing what she knew now about their mother. “I can’t imagine dealing with Heidi makes it easy.”

  Aggravation crossed his features, and he assumed a similar position to her, arms crossed over the edge. She tried not to admire the way it lengthened his muscles. “I made that excuse for a long time, you know? I need to make myself feel better. But I’ve come to realize that it’s as much my fault as it is hers. I’m their fucking dad, and what kind of dad am I if I let being pissed off at her all the time keep me away from them? It’s not their fault. From now on I’m going to fight like hell for them.”

  “Still, I don’t think Heidi is a bad person. I think she’s made some bad choices.”

  He looked like he had a lot to say on that subject, but all he gave her was, “We do what we do. Whatever else she is, she’s the mother of my kids.”

  “I sometimes found it sad that you two couldn’t work things out.”

  He shrugged that off. “I don’t make excuses for that anymore, either.” But he didn’t elaborate further. “Anyway, that’s partly what this summer is about, getting time with them without having to go through her to do it.”

  His direct eyes met hers, dark and intense, reflecting the lights around the pool, and he didn’t have to make his point out loud. “I understand,” she said softly. “But she pushed me on you, so in a way you felt like she’s here anyway.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “I didn’t want to be here any more than you wanted me here. I hope you believe that.”

  The smirk he gave her then was disarming, just like everything else about him. “This isn’t living the dream for you, huh?”

  “Absolutely not. I was living my dream just fine, thanks.”

  “Taking care of my kids.” That intense gaze hadn’t left her face once.

  Iris shrugged, feeling a flush creep up her neck. “I’ve always been a nurturer, I guess. Until I met your family, I had no one to nurture.”

  “No one?”

  “No.” She looked at her hands, clasped loosely on the concrete, sadness aching in her chest, an alarming warmth gathering behind her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him.

  “Okay. I won’t push, since you don’t want me to.”

  She kind of did, though. She wanted him to understand her. A little part, at least. “I don’t speak to my family at all.”

  “Jesus. At all?”

  She had to chuckle at his choice of words. “They’re deeply religious people. Deeply. They have Jesus. They don’t need me.”

  “Ah. They’d be picketing our live shows and harassing our fans with threats of hellfire and damnation.”

  “If they even knew who you were, yeah, something like that. We’re all going to hell, you know.”

  “Believe me, I know. I’ll drink to it.” He lifted his glass toward her and took a big swallow while she gave him a tight smile.

  “You joke, but I lived with that fire and brimstone mentality. For years. And it . . . fucked me up.”

  He almost spit his wine at her choice of words, looking at her with wide, amused eyes. “Well, now. How did that feel?”

  “Pretty damn good, actually. Maybe I should do it more often.”

  “I think you should. It’s a great stress reliever. Maybe you’ll be privy to the way I can make ‘fuck’ every word of a sentence someday. It’s so versatile.”

  “I thought that was in your last hit song?” she teased.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m famous for making our label execs’ heads explode.”

  “I bet.”

  They lapsed into silence while she contemplated how he wasn’t difficult to talk to once one got to know him, and once one got him talking. He had a hard, somewhat abrasive shell, forged no doubt by years o
f fending off parasites. But if one could break through it, she sensed he had a lot of love and warmth to give. Any woman who reached that core of him would be lucky indeed.

  “What’s the rest of your story?” he asked after a few more silent moments ticked past. He turned around, bracing his elbows on the side of the pool now. “You have most of mine at this point. But you hardly ever talk about you. All I know is you love my kids, but you don’t have any of your own. You don’t talk to your parents, you don’t speak of any other family, but you seem like a good person, far from the black sheep sort. Hell, I still speak to my family. I get yours are uber religious, but it doesn’t make any sense. Was that your choice, or theirs? Tell me to shut up if I’m out of line.”

  He’d probably watched her face go through a gamut of emotions as he made his assessments and asked his questions. “It was mutual,” she told him, trying to disconnect herself from the painful memories that floated to the surface. “They’ve made efforts to reconcile. So have I. It never works out. I’m usually the one to cut the ties again.”

  “It must take so much strength to do that.”

  “Strength? I always think it’s the coward’s way out. That I should be strong enough to deal with my own parents, for God’s sake.”

  “No. Sometimes letting go of toxicity is the hardest thing you can do.”

  There was an expression that came over his face whenever he spoke of Heidi, so Iris had begun to recognize when he was thinking of her, too. It was a mixture of pain and anger and maybe a little wistfulness. His mother’s words from earlier came back to her. “You loved her a lot, didn’t you?”

  He cursed and looked away, shaking his head. “I was gone over that woman once. She was it. She was everything. I was a stupid kid with newfound fame gong to my head and she was . . . like another addiction.”

  “And once you’ve had everything, what’s left to have?” she supplied.