Nolan: Return to Signal Bend (9 page)

At that point, their mom had begun to favor Rose pretty clearly. At least that was the way Iris saw it. Rose always argued that Iris was just too sensitive and that their mom didn’t have favorites.

But she also argued that their dad favored Iris. Actually, Rose argued that their dad favored Daisy most of all. Many times, she’d sniffed that she couldn’t compete with a ghost.

Iris had never been able to understand why Rose believed that competition with their dead sister was even a thing.

So no, Iris and Rose, though they’d been thrust together by circumstance and by accident of birth, were not particularly close.

While Nolan settled Caroline in her sleeping bag, Iris went back to the kitchen to try to get on top of the disaster all their fun had left behind. She didn’t want Shannon to come home in the morning, probably hung over, and find such a cataclysmic mess. So she pulled out the box of trash bags and started there.

Nolan came in a few minutes later and pulled another bag off the roll. Together, not saying much, they worked steadily until the kitchen was clean. The rest of the house could wait until Camp New Year was officially over.

Iris closed the dishwasher and turned it on. Before she moved, she sensed Nolan step up right behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body.

At her ear, he said, “This is the best New Year’s I’ve ever had—and that’s saying something. I’ve had one or two great ones.”

“Yeah, me too. It was fun. I love those kids.”

“You’re great with them.”

The breath of every word he spoke tickled her ear and made her insides clench. She turned around and looked up at him. “So are you.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, one without sound or breath or heartbeat. Iris knew he was going to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes, and what she saw was more than intent. It seemed like need.

She wanted him to kiss her, but when he finally bent toward her, she put her hand on his chest and held him at bay. He frowned, and she asked, “Do you know why you want to?”

That had been what she’d told him—that the next time he kissed her, he had to know why he was doing it. She needed to draw that line. It was one thing to like a guy who didn’t like her the same way. Iris didn’t get wound around that axle. There were other guys in the world, and she didn’t believe there was such as a thing as a One and Only True Love.

But she didn’t get close with guys who didn’t like her the same way. She wasn’t a sex doll. She wanted love, too, and she had never perfected the ‘sex is just sex’ mindset. In her mind, sex was love—or, at least, it was on the road to love. For her, it had to be more than the physical act. So she only got physical with guys who liked her the way she liked them.

Even for Nolan, even wanting to save him, she wouldn’t break that rule.

“Do you, Nolan?”

His frown had gotten so deep his face had become distorted. “I feel good when I’m with you,” he answered at last. “Iris, I just need to feel good.”

He bent toward her again, but she held him off, even as his words made her heart ache. “I don’t know if that’s a good answer.”

“It’s not,” he sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead and took a step away. “Tonight was great. I’m gonna take off.”

Deciding right then that his answer was good enough, that it was honest and real, and, for that, it could not be better, and that she really, really wanted to kiss him, Iris grabbed his arm before he had turned fully away.

He reversed his course and faced her again, and she pulled on his arm, drawing him closer. She smiled.

“Happy New Year, Nolan.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him the way he’d kissed her in the clubhouse—chaste and sweet. Then she came back down onto her feet.

The blue of his eyes was even darker than usual and stormy with turmoil. “Iris…” he nearly moaned.

She caught a handful of his flannel shirt and pulled, bringing him yet closer. And that was all she needed to do. His hands went to her hips and slid around until his arms were locked around her waist, and then his mouth was on hers—and no kiss they’d had yet had been anything like this one.

Everything about it was desperate. His tongue filled her mouth, searching, and his growing beard dug at and stung her cheeks. He crushed her in his arms, his hands clutching at her, his fingers digging into her ass, her sides. His breath came loud and heavy, each exhale a groan. And his leg slid between hers, pushing until she was straddled over his thigh.

Not expecting to see Nolan tonight, she’d dressed for the kids’ party she was hosting. She was wearing only yoga pants, with no underwear, and a giant hoodie from college, with nothing under it but a sport bra. She had no makeup on. She hadn’t done her hair. Yet Nolan’s obvious, primitive need for her made her feel sexier than she ever had before.

She was also getting wet, really wet, so wet she could feel the trickle of it, and there was nothing between her and Nolan’s jeaned leg but some flimsy Lycra. She might have been embarrassed about that, except that she could also feel how hard he was—and he was thrusting against her, shoving his thigh harder and harder, and he was groaning like an animal, and he’d torn his mouth from hers and was sucking on her neck, and his hands had slid into her pants, and he had ahold of her bare ass, and now one hand had moved under her sweatshirt, under her bra, and…

And there were ten children sleeping in the living room, right up the hall.

“Nolan,” she gasped, trying to recover her sense and her voice. When he hadn’t seemed to hear her, when, instead, his hand pushed her bra over her breast and took hold of her nipple, making her arch into him and grow even wetter, she pushed on his shoulder and tried again. “Nolan. Nolan. Nolan!”

She finally got through to him, and he stopped. He didn’t move away; he simply froze, with one hand holding her ass, his fingers tantalizingly close to her wet core, and with the other hand on her breast. His face was still pressed to her throat. His breath chugged like a locomotive. But he had stopped.

“The house is full of kids,” she reminded him.

It took another second or two for that to get through, and then he sighed heavily and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Fuck.”

His hands hadn’t moved yet, and Iris very much needed his fingers away from all her sensitive parts, or she was going to lose her resolve not to traumatize the children with a live porn show, so she pushed on his arm until he regained his senses completely and stood up and stepped back.

He brushed his fingertips lightly across her lips. “I should go.”

“Stay. It’s so late. Just crash in the living room with all of us. I’m going to make waffles for breakfast later.”

The smile he gave her was the kind that he put on. “Thanks, but I need to go.”

“Okay.”

She followed him to the front door and leaned on the newel post at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor. She watched as he dressed in his winter gear. When he was done, he came back to her and closed his gloved hand over her hip. “I’m glad I stopped here tonight. It was a bad night, and you made it good. Thank you.”

She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. At her touch, he closed his eyes. “Are you okay, Nolan?”

His eyes opened, and he put on another smile. “I’m always okay.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Instead of replying, Nolan took hold of the hand she’d laid on his cheek. He kissed her palm. “Happy New Year, Iris.”

As he stepped into the cold and dark, Iris, holding the door, said, “Be safe.”

He walked away without answering.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Despite the cold, and the fact that it was only a couple of hours before dawn, Nolan rode out to Ani’s hill after he left Iris. He didn’t know why that was where he was going, except that it was where he needed to go.

He parked and tromped over the frozen earth. The brittle blades of dead grass crackled under his feet.

What they needed was a good snowstorm. They’d barely had a flurry yet, and even though it would mean he’d finally have to put up his bike, Nolan wanted it to snow. All this arctic cold had turned the world into a grey, barren wasteland, and the air seemed restless, like a beast pacing overhead. A heavy snowfall—at least six inches—would bring bright serenity back, at least for a little while.

He sat at his place on the hill and looked up at a clear sky. The stars had just begun to fade into the emerging dawn.

“Hey, Ani,” he said, and for the first time, he felt like he’d spoken the words to nothing by the sky.

He’d never thought she was actually listening; it was why he’d never sat up here and held a conversation with a ghost. But she was star stuff, and he’d always felt closer to her when he sat under this huge dome of stars.

On this night, he didn’t feel closer to her. He didn’t feel her at all.

He yanked off his glove and shoved his hand into his coat, under his shirt and thermal, and he got hold of the cord and pulled her little star out into the night.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the star. “I love you. Don’t leave. Don’t. Please don’t.”

All he felt was ache. He’d said the same words the night he’d held her in his arms while she tried to breathe and couldn’t. The night she’d faded from her eyes.

His shoulders sagged, curling forward, and he set his head in his hands. Fuck, if he lost this, if he lost her, there would be nothing left in his heart but dust.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that, with his face in his hands and his head empty of anything but angry sorrow. Maybe he’d even slept a little. When he came back into the present moment, his first active thought was the realization that he’d been thinking, or dreaming, of Iris. Of that kiss in the kitchen. The feel of her body in his hands. Her mouth under his. Her tongue on his. The sound of her breath in his ear. The way he could feel her need, the heat of her on his leg.

He was sitting on Ani’s hill, feeling desperate and afraid that he’d finally, fully lost her, and now he was hard, thinking of Iris. That was so fucked up. He was so fucked up.

But he felt better. He lifted his head and saw that dawn had happened. He’d sat there, unmoving, for a long time. Until the stars had disappeared into a new morning sky.

Had Analisa left to make room for Iris?

That was a stupid, sappy, ridiculous thing to think.

But it felt a little bit true.

Nolan kissed the star he still held in his fingers and tucked it back under his shirt. “Love you, babe.”

He stood. Fuck, he was cold. His ass and legs had gone numb, and his face stung badly. A hardcore case of the shakes sat in his muscles, waiting for its moment.

But he felt better. He looked up at the pale grey sky. The sun was nothing yet but a golden glow on the eastern horizon.

He turned and headed down the hill on stiff, half-frozen legs.

~oOo~

He rode to the clubhouse, climbed over the minefield of unconscious bodies strewn across the Hall, and crashed in his room, pulling every cover he had over his head.

Then he slept straight through New Year’s Day.

When he woke, it was dark again, well into the evening. He showered and changed, then went out to the Hall. His stomach made a cantankerous grumble. He hadn’t eaten anything since the brownie banana split Lexi and Millie had helped him make the night before. And the Frankenpizza before that. Damn, that had been disgusting.

The Hall was empty and completely clean. Without any prospects in the club, no one was required to live there. Nolan did by choice, and so did Darwin and Cox. Everybody else had a place of their own and maybe a family to go with it, so there were times when the Hall got fairly quiet. It was rare, however, for it to be entirely empty. No girls or anyone.

The girls had obviously been around, though, because the place smelled of furniture polish and citrusy ammonia. Nolan turned the corner into the kitchen—that was gleaming clean, too.

He opened the fridge, looking for something to eat, and then was struck by the certainty that he did not want to sit alone in the clubhouse and eat leftovers from a party he hadn’t been able to deal with. A lot of things depressed him these days, but that was about as depressing a proposition as he could imagine just then.

Deciding to go home instead, Nolan went back and grabbed his gear. He stopped halfway through the process of piling on layers, remembering the cold of the night before, and he decided fuck it. He’d get the keys to one of the SBC pickups. He pulled on his leather jacket and his kutte over that instead.

~oOo~

There was no one home at his mom’s house. When he called to see where she was, she told him that she and Loki were having supper with Bart and his kids.

Nolan thought of Ian sitting on the bench on Main Street on Christmas Eve, sulking about his mom getting replaced. He’d thought the kid had just been overreacting to the Horde women taking care of his family, but since then, Nolan had noticed more when his mom helped Bart out. She seemed to be doing it a lot. More than the other women.

Maybe that was simply because she was single and only had Loki at home. Lilli ran two businesses, did a bunch of town stuff, had two kids and a husband and a farm full of animals, and homeschooled Bo. Shannon had the B&B and Show and Millie and Joey. Adrienne had Badger and four kids and yet another on the way. Tasha was a doctor. Candy had a little baby. So yeah, Nolan’s mom probably had more time than the others to help out. She had Valhalla Vin practically running itself, and Loki and Bart’s kids got along well.

It made sense. But a new thread of worry wove into Nolan’s thoughts. His mom had been alone a long time. She’d never had even a date since Havoc’s death, and she’d never seemed to be interested. He didn’t want her to get interested in a guy who’d lost his wife only a few months before. She’d get hurt, and she’d had enough hurt to last an infinite lifetime.

It wasn’t a problem he could solve right now, however. For now, he was alone at the house, and alone was not what he wanted to be. So he let Thor out and waited while the old mutt gimped around the yard and picked the exact right spot to take his dump. When he finally got his business done, Nolan brought him in and fed him, and then he shrugged back into his coat and kutte and took the truck to the only other place he wanted to be.

~oOo~

It looked like everybody was home at Showdown and Shannon’s. All the lights were on, and there were a couple of extra trucks parked by the garage, next to Iris’s little white baby truck.

Lilli and Isaac were here, probably with the kids. And Len and Tasha, too. Fuck.

Briefly, Nolan considered putting the truck in reverse and going back to hang out with Thor. But lately, only one thing made him feel okay. Just one. And she was inside that house.

With her father and stepmother and a whole bunch of other people who probably had lots of opinions about her and him. Strong opinions they’d be happy to share—possibly with fists. Was he ready to walk into that?

When he parked and got out, he supposed he was.

Show answered the door and, true to form, stood up as straight and broad as he could, so that he could glare down at Nolan. “Nolan.”

“Hey, Show. Sorry to bug you.”

“There a problem?” Show still filled the door as if he had no intention of inviting Nolan in from the cold.

Before he could answer, Shannon’s voice rose from behind her husband, “Showdown. Down.”

Show blinked and then stepped slowly back, making room for Nolan to come in, but not actually inviting him in.

Nolan took the reluctant, tacit invitation and stepped up and into the house.

Everybody was standing around, practically in a circle: Lilli, Isaac, Len, Tasha, Shannon, and Show. Staring at him.

“Hey. Is Iris around?”

“I’m here.” She pushed through Shannon and Show, and Nolan immediately felt less defensive. “Hi. You okay?”

Ignoring their audience, Nolan smiled at Iris. “Hey. Yeah. I…you want to get something to eat?”

“We’re about to eat here,” Showdown growled.

Nolan caught Isaac and Len in the corner of his eye—they both had almost the same obnoxious smirk on their faces.

“Of course you’re welcome to join us, honey,” Shannon said, stepping forward. She glanced at Iris and added, “or we won’t mind if you go out instead, Iris.”

“Can you guys just give us a minute or something?” There wasn’t much of a request in Iris’s tone, and the others—Isaac and Len both outright laughing now, the assholes—backed off and returned to whatever they were doing. It looked like they’d been playing poker in the dining room.

When they were alone in the front hall, Iris came close. “Sorry about that.” She lifted her hand to his cheek. “Your face is so chapped.”

Her soft fingers felt good on his sore skin. “Yeah. Too much time in the wind, I guess.”

“Do you have your bike?”

He shook his head. “Finally caved to the weather. I’ve got one of the SBC trucks. Do you want to go out?”

Her smile made him feel a lot less fucked up. “Yeah. I just need a few minutes to put myself together.”

She wore a pair of raggedy jeans with what looked like black tights under them, and another big sweatshirt, this one a crew-neck, which had slid a bit to the side and showed a white bra strap. Her hair was bound in a ponytail at the side of her neck. He thought she looked adorable.

“You look great.”

“You’re sweet, but I don’t. I hate to leave you down here with my dad and the others, but the kids are watching a movie. Probably safer with them. I’ll just be a minute or two.” Without giving him a chance to protest again, she turned and trotted up the stairs. He watched her go. The back pockets of her jeans sparkled with sequins or rhinestones or something.

“What are you doing, Nolan?” Showdown stood again in the wide frame of the dining room entry. His immense arms were crossed over his barrel of a chest.

“I’m taking Iris out for supper.” A simple answer, and true. And Nolan didn’t yet know more than that. He was following a need, not a plan.

Show considered him, his eyes—the same color as Iris’s—narrow. “If you hurt her, I will break you.”

Nolan stared right back. “I know.”

Finally, Show turned away. Nolan watched as he sat down at the table.

Shannon came up from the kitchen, and Nolan realized that the smell of cooking beef and rich spice was in the air. He still hadn’t eaten, and his stomach complained noisily. At the dining room entry, she smiled at him. “You want something to nibble on, or a drink, while you wait, Nolan?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

With a nod, she sat down, and the Horde couples went back to their game.

Maybe he should have thought it insulting that three members of his club were essentially ignoring him, leaving him to stand in the front hall like some stranger, but Nolan was okay with it. He was angry with all his brothers and had no interest in being social with them. He’d felt more alone in the Keep the night before than he did standing here waiting for Iris. She was the one he was here for, not them. She was the one who made him feel good. She was the one who kept his mind from dark thoughts.