Page 105 of Savage Heart

“Thank you,” she says softly. “Juniper & Lace,” she adds, meeting my eyes.

“You look beautiful in whatever you wear, but this was a great choice.”

She kisses Linc’s temple. “Love you, bud. Otis said he’ll be here in just a sec. He’s trying to find Raiders of the Lost Ark.” She glances at me. “I’m shocked the movie still plays. We watched it so many times when I was little.”

I laugh. “I remember watching it over here a few times myself. Is it still Otis’s favorite?”

“Yep. I don’t think he ever gets tired of it,” she says.

“I told Maverick you don’t have to rush,” Linc says.

“Oh really?” Iris giggles, tugging him toward her for a hug. She glances at me, her eyes dancing, before she kisses his temple. “Have fun tonight.”

“You too.”

We walk to the truck, and I help Iris in, my hands on her hips as she steps up. It’s hard to keep my hands off of her. I glance in the rearview as we pull away and see Linc shutting the door.

“He’s such a great kid, Iris,” I tell her.

“I’m really lucky,” she says.

I step into Nonna Bella with Iris on my arm, the familiar chime of the bell above the door announcing us. The place hasn’t changed much since we were kids: red-checkered tablecloths, flickering candlelight, and the scent of garlic and fresh basil thick in the air. Nonna herself waves from behind the counter, her smile genuine for me, but it tightens when her eyes slide to Iris.

The hostess seats us at a corner table by the window. As we settle in, I feel eyes on us. Old Mr. Hargrove at the bar nurses his wine. Lincoln’s old coach and his wife are two tables over, their conversation dipping when they see Iris. Even our waitress fumbles the specials as she approaches, her gaze darting to Iris.

“Maverick, good to see you,” she says, all smiles for me. “Iris.”

I order club sodas with lime for both of us; normally I’d have a glass of red, but I don’t want Iris to have even the slightest concern about getting back in the car with me. I reach across the table and take her hand. Her fingers intertwine with mine, cool and steady, but I catch the tension in her jaw.

“Should we go somewhere else?” she asks.

“Ignore them.” My thumb strokes her knuckles. “Pretend it’s just us.”

She smiles, and the slow curve of her lips is sultry without her even trying. “Easy for you to say. They all love you.”

Her voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it. We both know the rest—I’m the one everyone trusts. She’s the one they blame. Small towns love holding on to grudges.

Our drinks arrive. She takes a sip, her eyes locking on mine over the rim, and just like that, the room fades a little.

“To new beginnings,” I toast softly, clinking her glass.

Her foot brushes mine under the table, sending a spark up my leg.

We order, and as we wait, I lean in, my voice low. “You look incredible tonight. That dress . . . it’s killing me.” I let my gaze drop, appreciating the way the fabric clings, the neckline dipping just enough to tease.

Her smile makes me want to skip dinner altogether. “I barely survived the way my heart pounded so hard that summer before senior year. I thought for sure you could hear it.”

“Not over my own. It was the best summer of my life . . . until now.”

She traces a finger along the rim of her glass, her eyes darkening as she looks around the room. “But you know they’re all wondering what you’re doing with me.”

I squeeze her hand tighter. “They don’t know shit.”

The food comes, steaming and delicious. She twirls pasta on her fork, offering me a bite. I take it, holding her gaze. My free hand finds her knee under the table, sliding up her thigh just enough to feel her shiver.

Around us, the stares intensify. Dana Edwards at the next table whispers to her husband, not even trying to hide it. “Poor Maverick. She’s got him fooled.”

Iris stiffens. “Maybe we should go,” she whispers.