Nolan: Return to Signal Bend (12 page)

“I like sleeping next to you. It felt…safe.”

“You are safe.” He pulled her onto his chest. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know.” She kissed him. Then she reached down, took hold of his cock, and eased herself onto him. He closed his eyes as that sensation overwhelmed him.

“God, Ani,” he breathed as Iris began to rock gently on him.

She went still.

He didn’t know what had happened, what he’d said, until he opened his eyes and saw hers.

“Iris,” she said.

“Jesus fuck, I’m so sorry. Fuck.” He tried to unseat her, to get out of bed, to get away, but she wouldn’t let him go.

“It’s okay, Nolan. Only—keep your eyes open. I’d like you to see me. I want you to be with me.”

“I
am
with you, Iris. It was…I don’t know. She was the last person I felt like this with.”

“I understand.”

In that flash of shame and regret, he’d started to go soft, but now he was fully erect again. “How are you so good?”

“I’m not. I’m just me. Be with me.”

She moved again, rocking gently, and he kept his eyes on hers. Even when he was on fire and nearly out of control again, he kept his eyes on hers. When he had to sit up and get closer, when the room was loud with their groaning breaths, he kept his eyes on hers. When his head ached with the strain of his finish and his vision filled with darts of red light, he kept his eyes on hers.

~oOo~

Later, after sleeping for another hour or two, they showered together in his little box of a bathroom, and they dressed. Nolan took her hand and led her back into the Hall.

The population in the Hall was back to normal, meaning that there were a couple of club girls scooting around, and a few members getting an early start on this Sunday morning. They all took notice of Nolan walking Iris Ryan out of the dorm.

One who took particular notice was Showdown, who was sitting with his back against the bar, holding a big mug in his hand and staring at the dorm hallway as if he’d been sitting there specifically to see them come up from Nolan’s room.

Which was, no doubt, exactly what he’d done. Maybe Iris should have called home last night to assure them she was okay.

When they came into the Hall, Show stood up and set his mug on the bar.

Iris squeezed Nolan’s hand and let go, then walked out ahead of him. “Hi, Daddy.” She went to her father and lifted onto her toes, and Show bent down and kissed her cheek.

“Morning, baby flower. You good?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m good. You be good, okay?”

“You should’ve called home, Iris.”

Iris seemed honestly guilty about that. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t mean to make you worried.”

Nolan was close enough now to see the veins throbbing at Show’s temples. He was angry, but he was holding back. Somebody must have told him to stand down. Nolan remembered Shannon saying almost exactly that last night.

“I always worry, baby.”

“Morning, brother,” Nolan said.

Show only glared at him, then turned to his daughter. “You hungry?”

A couple of times a month on Sunday mornings, one of the old ladies would put on a decent breakfast, but on this morning, there was only coffee and doughnuts. As Show sat back down, Iris picked out a Boston cream, and Nolan went behind the bar and poured them each a cup of coffee. He added lots of cream and sugar to hers.

When she tasted it, she rewarded him with a beautiful, sweet smile, and he would have kissed the little smear of Boston cream from the corner of her mouth if her father hadn’t been staring bullets at him.

“Did it snow much last night?” he asked Show, to change the subject.

“Nah. Couple inches. The cold put a crust on it, though, so it’s slick.” He moved his attention to Iris. “I’ll take you home.”

“I got it, Show,” Nolan said. The protective father thing was fine, but Nolan was his brother and SAA, and Iris was a grown woman.
His
grown woman.

Show’s expression heated up by a couple hundred degrees until Iris said, “I want Nolan to take me home.” Then he cooled off and practically shrank.

When Nolan and Iris finished their breakfast and had their coats on, Show put his ham-size hand around Nolan’s arm and muttered, “You keep her safe.”

“I will, Show. You know who I am. I won’t hurt her.”

Iris’s father stared hard at him for another few seconds, and Nolan stared right back. Finally, Show let him go.

~oOo~

The roads were slick, but not outrageously so, and as usual on a Sunday morning while church service was going on, there wasn’t much traffic in town. Nolan got Iris home without incident. He parked, and they sat in the warm cab for a few minutes.

“Sorry about my dad.”

Nolan laughed. “Show is a legendary papa bear. I knew what I was getting into. You’re worth it.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“You want to get together later?”

Iris shook her head. “I can’t. I have to work this afternoon and again tomorrow. I’m not off again until Wednesday. But we can have lunch or something tomorrow. Or supper after work.”

“I’m on patrol tomorrow night. We’ll figure it out. Hey—give me your phone.”

She dug it out of her pocket without asking and handed it to him. He dialed his own number and ignored it when it rang. “I realized last night that I didn’t have your number. Now we’re set.”

He handed her back her phone, and she took it and then leaned over the console. Nolan met her in the middle for a gentle kiss.

“Thank you,” he said.

Her brow wrinkled. “Why?”

“You make me feel good.”

She grinned and got out of the truck, and Nolan watched her trot over the little bit of snow and up to the porch. He watched until she was inside.

As soon as she was out of sight, he missed her.

Dark thoughts crowded in again.

CHAPTER TEN

Iris pulled up in front of the garage after work that evening and saw the lights on in her dad’s shop. She parked and got out, and before she’d closed the door, he was coming around the corner of the garage.

The evening was cold, and the wind blew the snow up in swirls around their feet. He was wearing nothing with his jeans and boots but an open flannel shirt over one of his omnipresent beaters. “Hi, Daddy. Aren’t you cold?”

“Little bit. Come on back and talk to me.”

Knowing exactly what he wanted to talk about, Iris sighed and followed him around to the door of his mancave.

She smiled at the vintage Harley sign hanging on the wall, in pride of place with the big collage frames of Horde photos and family photos. She’d known he’d love that old sign. Rose was a snob.

Wanting to avoid the topic of Nolan for as long as she could, while he went to his mini-fridge, she took her coat off and tossed it over a dolly near the door, then went over to the bones of the bike he was working on.

“This isn’t a Harley.” She’d never ridden anything but bitch, but she had always liked to sit with her dad while he tinkered on bikes, and she’d picked up a little about them. This bike didn’t seem that old, either. Normally, when he tinkered with anything but a Harley, it was seriously vintage, like the sweet 1943 Indian Scout he had under cover in another bay of the garage.

Her dad brought her an open beer. He had one, too. They knocked bottles and drank.

“No, it’s a Victory Vegas. 2005.”

Twenty-three years old was barely vintage. She was twenty-three. “You thinking you’ll sell it?” She knew he wouldn’t ride anything but a Harley, unless it was an antique. And even then—the Indian almost never went on the road, as far as she knew.

“I don’t know. We’ll see how it goes. Right now, you know, just keepin’ myself busy.”

“It’s pretty.” It was still bones, but she could tell that it would be a pretty bike.

“Yeah, Victory has a nice look. Sleeker than a Harley, but still brawny. Easier to handle. How’s your job going?”

Iris loved Jubilee, and Geoff was a great boss. He’d said ‘we’ a lot while he was telling her about the job, but the ‘we’ had turned out to be the royal kind. With the exception of a hauling service he contracted with, Iris was his only employee. He wanted to hire at least one more person part-time, so that he could have help when he was out ‘hunting,’ as he called it, and wouldn’t have to close the store to get it.

Iris was looking forward to going ‘hunting’ with him. There were so many interesting, unusual items in the shop, and she wanted to go digging around in attics and old barns to discover more. During slow times, Geoff talked about what it was like to root around in a building that maybe hadn’t been opened in a couple of decades, after an elderly person had died and the family was liquidating the estate.

When Iris had wondered if that wasn’t a little bit ghoulish, Geoff hadn’t been offended. But he’d disagreed and told her that there was a story in those old places. He said he got to know the people who’d stashed their ‘old junk’ away. It hadn’t been junk to them; they hadn’t been able to part with it. Rusty or broken or incomplete, it held meaning. Because it was their story.

Iris relished that way of thinking about it.

“The job is great. I really love it, and Geoff is cool. When it gets warmer, he said he’ll take me hunting with him.”

“Huh?” Her dad frowned.

Hunting was something she and her dad had done together, so she guessed he was jealous. She smiled and bumped her hip into his leg. “Not with a gun. Looking for new stuff. Estate sales and stuff like that.”

“Ah, okay.”

Iris decided to just get on with it. “Daddy, you can just say what you want to say.”

He chuckled and bent down to kiss the top of her head. “Shannon says I’m to keep my mouth shut.”

“You’re not doing a great job at it, though.”

“What? I didn’t say anything I was thinking this morning. Or do anything I wanted to do.”

She took his hand. “Let’s talk. It’s okay. As long as you listen, too.” She led him to the loveseat, and they sat down.

Her dad finished his beer. “You wanting to stay—is that about him?”

“Rule number one: You have to use his name. He’s not just some random guy.”

“Is it about Nolan?”

“It wasn’t, no. Last night was—we weren’t together before that. I made the decision to be here before I knew we’d be together at all. I want to stay because I love it here. This has always felt more like home than anywhere else I’ve lived.”

“You sure about that? You went away to college and all you want to do is live here and work on Main Street?”

They’d already had this conversation. She thought they had, at least. “Yeah, Daddy. I never wanted to
be
anything. I’m not like Rose. I just want to have a home and a family and be happy. I don’t know why everybody wants me to go looking for something when I already know where it is.” Her throat felt tight, and her vision blurred. “Does that disappoint you?”

He reached his arm out and pulled her tight to his chest. “No, baby flower. Hell, no.” He pressed his lips to her head. “If what you want is here, then I’m glad. So glad. I missed you so much while you were growing up. If I can have you here with me now, then the last thing I am is disappointed. All I want for you is what you want.”

She snuggled as close as she could to his broad, hard chest. Being in his arms really did feel like being hugged by a bear. “I want Nolan, too, Daddy.”

All she heard for a long time was the wind rattling against the closed overhead door. “Okay, then. But be careful, Iris. And come to me if you need me.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Daddy. You know he’s not. He’s good.”

She felt him nod. “He is. I love him. But I know him better than you do. He’s been through some shit in his life, baby. He’s got a hot head and a sad heart. He has trouble standing still, too. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I think I love him, too. And he needs it. I can feel it.”

“Fuck, Iris. Don’t love him to save him. Think about yourself, too. What you need.”

“I have everything I need. I have you and Signal Bend and my new job. Nolan is what I want.”

“You’re so young. Life is more complicated than that. Love is much more complicated than that.”

Her father, it seemed, would never see her as a woman. She’d always be his ‘baby flower.’ Normally, she liked it. She called him ‘Daddy’ and liked being wrapped up tight in his arms. She even liked when he lifted her off the floor with his hugs. But right now, he needed to understand that she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

She sat up and looked her father in the eye. “I’ll be okay, Daddy. I want this.”

He sighed and cupped his hand around the side of her head. “Okay. I’m here. I’m always here, no matter what.”

“I know. I love you.” She threw her arms around his neck and let him pull her onto his lap for another hug.

~oOo~

That night, Iris lay in her bed, in the little room that had once been Daisy’s, and thought about Nolan, and her father, and Signal Bend. What she wanted, and why she wanted it.

Mostly, she thought about the night before. Nolan had been…intense. More than she’d been prepared for. Last night, she’d realized how deep his need went, and—though she would admit it only to herself—it scared her a little bit.

He was still in love with that girl—Analisa. She’d watched the video again after Nolan had dropped her off. Analisa Winter, daughter of movie stars. They were about the same age, or would have been if she had lived.

Everything Iris had said to him had been true. She understood, and she wasn’t threatened. She hadn’t loved being called her name, but it hadn’t made her feel insecure or insulted. She understood. He loved Analisa, and she was gone, and he hadn’t loved anyone but her.

He’d still been wearing her around his neck. She was tattooed on his chest.

Iris didn’t worry that she was competing with a ghost. She felt like she could coexist with the memory of Analisa Winter. After all, it had been Nolan’s evident love for the girl that had made Iris see him the way she did, that had made her want the chance to know his love.

But his love was a raw, desperate thing, like a beast that had been caged up and starved. Last night had been only a hint of that love, and it had been a torrent of emotion and sensation. He was sweet and kind and gentle, and hurting and sad, but then there was that hungering, ravenous part, too, that had seemed to want to pull her bodily into himself, that had seemed to forget that she was more than just a thing he needed.

There had been a moment when he’d looked surprised to find her in his arms. That had been a lot harder to take than being called by another girl’s name.

And yet—it was appealing, too. She liked his need. His hunger fed something inside her. It probably wasn’t the healthiest beginning of a relationship—her father obviously didn’t think so—but it was a beginning, and maybe something good could grow from it.

In the meantime, he really did need her. She felt it in his touch, saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice.

She rolled to her side, bringing Toby, the teddy bear she’d slept with since she was eight, tight to her chest, and went to sleep thinking of how safe she’d felt sleeping in Nolan’s arms.

~oOo~

“What about this one?” Millie held up a lipstick and turned the tube until the entire stick was out.

“Watch it. Roll it back down until just the tip is out, or it’ll break off. Raven Red, huh? Try it out. Be careful not to bump me, though, okay?”

While Millie smeared vampy lipstick on her little lips, Iris leaned in close to the mirror and worked on her eyeliner. She got the wings right about seventy percent of the time. Today seemed to be on point.

Millie stopped pouting her bright-red lips at the mirror and watched Iris instead. “Can you do that for me?”

“Not today, Mills. I have to get to work, and you have to go to school.”

“We have the doctor first.”

“I don’t think your mom wants you at the doctor all made up, either.”

Rolling to her knees on the counter, Millie peered closely at Iris’s reflection as she finished the liner for one eye. “Mom doesn’t do that. You look like a Bratz doll.”

Deciding to take that as a compliment, Iris smiled. “There’s lots of ways to wear makeup. You just have to find the way you like best.”

“I like red lips and Brat eyes. Do boys like girls like that?”

Iris dropped her hand, surprised. Millie was nine. That seemed young to be wondering what boys like. “Some do, sure. Boys like lots of different girls, and girls like lots of different boys. Some boys like boys. And some girls like girls.”

Millie nodded. “Eloise has two moms. I think that’s sad.”

“How come?”

“Because she doesn’t have a daddy. Daddies are important. It would make me sad not to have Daddy.”

“It would make me sad, too. Our Daddy is awesome. Daddies are important. But love is most important, wherever it comes from.”

Iris had not expected to get into a conversation like that before eight o’clock on a Monday morning, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. She knew that Shannon and her dad wouldn’t want Millie to be judging anyone, or pitying them, because of who their family was. Her dad wasn’t completely enlightened about the topic—he got uncomfortable and stonily quiet—but they were a ‘live and let live’ family. Still, Iris didn’t know where to go with the discussion at the moment.