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It was time for him to start living again, he realized. He’d hidden for too long now, and it wasn’t good for his mental health. He’d been lying to his friends for months, telling them he was just fine when he clearly hadn’t been. But maybe now he could be.
Maybe, if Iris stayed around, they could muddle their way out of messy life situations together. It was easier to commiserate with a friend also stuck in the middle of it, wasn’t it? Sometimes, he felt like a storm cloud over his friends’ happiness and, more often than not, he defaulted to pretending he was fine.
But he hadn’t been fine, had he? His fiancée had cheated on him, and his dog had died.
That, quite frankly, sucked. Maybe it was time he gave himself permission to acknowledge that, no, he wasn’t doing all that great.
Iris: Don’t make the woman skinny.
Kane raised an eyebrow at the text he found when he got back to the main room, having pulled on sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt.
Kane: Who said I had?
Iris: Well…okay, I just figured if your character was going to win the famous guy, usually that’s like a model or some size zero woman. It would be nice to see more normal bodies on television.
Kane: There are plus-size models, you know.
Kane smiled at the scowling emojis she sent back to him.
Iris: I’m aware of the body positivity movement, thank you very much. It’s taken some of the pressure off women like me, you know.
Kane: Women like you? What? Cantankerous?
More scowling emojis.
Kane: Prickly? Kane inserted a photo of a hedgehog along with the text.
Middle finger emojis were his reward, and he laughed out loud.
Brave? Beautiful? Take my breath away? Kane’s finger hovered on the send button, and then he deleted the last two phrases, leaving just the first.
Iris: Damn you. You have to go and be nice, don’t you?
Kane: I have my moments. Plus, I’m just sweetening you up before I start all that murdering I’m meant to be doing.
Iris: Right, right. Maybe I should rethink this whole going to an abandoned cove in the middle of nowhere idea.
Kane: Too late. I’ve already changed my schedule around. I will pick you up at ten in the morning. I’m turning my phone off now. I have to finish my words for the day. It turns out that rainy days are the perfect day to write about skinny models who get rescued by famous men.
Iris: Maybe I’ll be the one doing the murdering…
It was silly, really, this banter back and forth, yet it brought a smile to Kane’s face and made him excited to go on an excursion with Iris tomorrow. He hadn’t been excited about, well, anything in ages. Sitting back down at his laptop, he rubbed his hands together.
It was time to write some romance.
Chapter 9
Light-gray clouds blanketed the sky, but no rain fell, and Iris took that as a win. Thus far, her time in Ireland had been spent either getting rained on or hiding from the rain, so to have a day when it was fairly dry was a positive as far as Iris was concerned. She hadn’t necessarily planned to take more time with her appearance today, yet when she stood by the mirror that morning getting ready, she'd lingered longer than usual. What did Kane think of her? If he wrote about skinny models and famous people, would he even find someone like her attractive? The thought had been so surprising that she’d found herself rolling her eyes. Iris had reminded herself that she was in no way, shape, or form interested or ready to date and, if so, it certainly wouldn't be with a man who was far too put together and good-looking for someone like her. She needed a man who spilled ketchup from his hot dog down the front of his sweatshirt, not someone who wiped facetiously at his mouth with the corner of his napkin and pulled out chairs and opened doors for her. Perfectionism could be daunting.
When the buzzer sounded at her door, she pulled herself from her thoughts and picked up the tote bag of food she had prepared for their outing. In the end, Iris had braided her hair back from her face, put on a simple green sweater, along with her fitted denim pants and her favorite purple boots. For food, she had gone with easy things to snack on like nuts, fruit, and cheeses, as well as a nice crusty loaf of bread with various little jars of jams that the woman at the supermarket had convinced her to try. It wasn't fancy, but since she didn't really know Kane's tastes, she figured he would be happy with whatever she brought. She had also packed a bottle of wine before remembering the drink driving laws in Ireland and pulled it back out. Now, a little trickle of anticipation rippled through her as she bounded down the steps and out the front door.
Kane waited by his car, holding the door open like the gentleman he was.
"Good morning. It seems the weather is indeed on our side today. And don't you look lovely?" Kane said, immediately coming forward to take the bag off her shoulder and put it in the car's trunk.
Iris smiled her thanks at him and slid into the front seat, buckling the belt around her as Kane rounded the car and got behind the steering wheel. She took a moment to admire how well he seemed to fit into the landscape here. In just the short time since she had been out of her apartment, he'd already nodded at two different people and tugged at the bill of his cap as a cute little old woman had teetered past with her walker. Kane looked particularly Irish today, she mused. His newsboy cap was distinctly appealing and added an edge to his look. Kane also wore a simple gray heather sweater over a plaid shirt with jeans and rugged boots. Altogether, he looked like he could be a farmer—well, maybe an upscale farmer—about to wander his fields and collect his sheep. But in a much more handsome and rugged way, she supposed.
"So did you murder anyone yesterday?" Iris shot Kane a smile as he pulled away from the curb. He snorted and raised an eyebrow at her.
