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She went silent at his words, and his eyes darkened at the question he saw in hers.
“What did you think I meant when I said I’ve fallen for you, Iris? I’m in love with you.”
She stared up at him, wanting to believe, not knowing how it could possibly be real. “You can’t, it’s too fast.”
“It’s been ten days. My parents fell in love after two dates, they were married a month after their first meeting. Nobody thought it would last. They celebrated their thirty-fourth wedding anniversary this year. They’ve had three kids and are sickeningly happy together.”
“See? I didn’t know that about you, about your family. There’s so much we don’t know about each other.”
“Well, you know now because I told you. These are things we’ll learn as we go along. I just want you to give us a fair chance, Iris. Don’t give up because you think the obstacles are insurmountable. They’re there to be overcome and we can do that together.”
“You’re a romantic, Trystan Abbott. Who knew?” she said, her words laced with affection. “Let’s not talk about this now, okay? Let’s just enjoy each other and our time together.”
He dropped his forehead on hers, his warm breath washing over her lips.
“We’ll have to talk about it sometime, sweet, but I’m happy to put the conversation on hold for a while.” He hooked his hands beneath her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so they were, happily, at the same eye level. “Now, how about you tell me more about this sushi theory of yours?”
“Sam says they’ve started working on the road and bridge,” Trystan told Iris a couple of days later over breakfast. She’d been reading an email from her parents filled with news of work, Mum’s arthritis, and Robbie’s crush on one of the new waitstaff her dad had hired.
“What?” she asked, still focused on the email.
“Looks like the road and bridge will be fixed soon,” he repeated, and her stomach dropped as the specter of what she now thought of as The Real World loomed ever closer.
“Oh.”
“I was wondering,” he began, sounding tentative, which was unusual for him.
When he didn’t continue, she bumped his shin with her toe, “What, Trystan? Spit it out.”
“I was wondering if you’d let me read what you’ve been working on,” he muttered, and her lips quirked at the almost shy request.
“Why?”
“Because you look so engrossed when you’re busy with it, and so excited at times. I don’t know if you realize how often you smile when you’re writing. And it’s a part of you I want to know more about.”
She chewed at the inside of her lip as she considered it.
“I mean, it’s rough. And incomplete… and it needs editing.”
“I’ll bear all of that in mind.”
She swallowed and stared into those earnest eyes. And then she sighed.
“Do you have an e-reader?” She’d only ever seen him read physical books borrowed from the Hollingsworths’ extensive collection.
“I do.”
“I’ll email it to you and you can send it to your e-reader.” His lips stretched into a broad grin.
“I can’t wait to read it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Trystan lay horizontally across the bed, his head resting on Iris’s stomach while he held his e-reader aloft, reading her manuscript.
She was stroking her fingers through his hair, trying not to freak out too much at the thought of him reading her silly story. It was all well and good when she was writing it just for her own amusement, but having someone whose opinion she actually valued read it was a little terrifying.
He made a sound in the back of his throat and her hand paused.
