Nolan: Return to Signal Bend (16 page)

BOOK: Nolan: Return to Signal Bend
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“I do. The ride, and then…how can you feel bad out here? It’s peaceful and pretty, and even that house looks like it’s doing what it should be doing.”

 

His chest shook against her back as he chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. I haven’t been out here in years. I’d mostly forgotten about it, but I think the word ‘Iris’ so much now, I guess it reminded me.”

 

She turned in his embrace and looked up into his eyes. “You think about flowers a lot?”

 

He returned her smirk with one of his own and bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. “I think about one particular flower every second of every day. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” She rested her head on his chest. “I’m happy.”

 

“Me too. I have something for you.”

 

“Yeah?” She looked up at him again. She hadn’t bought him a gift, but she was making him supper. Hopefully, that counted.

 

“Yeah. It’s not much. I hope it’s not stupid. It might be stupid.”

 

“It won’t be. What is it?”

 

Letting her go, he unzipped his coat and reached in to bring out a flat, square box, about as wide as his palm. It wasn’t wrapped—just a plain, white box. “I didn’t want to go overboard. We’re still new, and I didn’t want to make it weird, but…”

 

“Nolan! Shut up and gimme!”

 

He laughed and obeyed.

 

Inside the box was a bracelet—a simple silver wire with an enameled purple iris. “It’s beautiful.”

 

“I was worried it was a cliché. You’ve probably been getting iris stuff your whole life.”

 

That was true. Everybody thought giving iris-themed gifts to a girl named Iris was a spectacularly unique idea. But that didn’t matter at all. The bracelet was lovely and understated, but what made it brilliant was the giver.

 

“I love it. It’s beautiful.” She knew she might have doomed herself to receiving iris-themed gifts from him forever, but his bright, full, relieved grin was totally worth it.

 

She lifted it from the box and handed it to him, and he closed it around her wrist.

 

It really did look good there.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.” He lifted her arm and kissed the enameled flower, and Iris knew she would never take that bracelet off.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

What the fuck was going on there?

 

Nolan came down the corridor from the bathroom and into the Hall. It was Friday night, as well as St. Patrick’s Day. There weren’t a lot of people in Signal Bend with Irish heritage, but everybody was Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Friday nights were pretty lively in the clubhouse on any week, so lively that Tuck’s didn’t even bother to open on Fridays anymore.

 

The Ryans were one of the few Irish-heritage families, and Shannon had some Scot in her. Badger, too. Hence all the redheaded babies they’d made, Nolan supposed. Show wasn’t much of a partier, but Adrienne and Shannon had turned the day into an explosion of green all over town. They’d had a little parade, leading down Main Street to a family-friendly bash at the clubhouse.

 

Dark had come, though, and with it a change in the celebration. Tipsy was becoming drunk. Drunk was becoming plastered. The kids had been taken away, and now the real partying was going to happen.

 

While he’d been in the bathroom, getting rid of a couple of gallons of beer, he’d been thinking that he wanted to take Iris home. He was feeling the beer—and whiskey—a little, but not too much to ride, and Iris hadn’t drunk much at all. Show was already gone; he’d left with his family. All the family men were gone, in fact.

 

He felt like a family man himself these days, and he wanted Iris away from what the night would turn into. There was a reason Show didn’t like her at the clubhouse after dark.

 

Now, though, he stood at the end of the hallway and watched her sitting at the bar. Kellen Frey was sitting with her, and he kept stroking her back and hair. Nolan could see Iris trying to shrug him off without starting a thing.

 

Well, fuck that. His so-called ‘brother’ knew full well that Iris was claimed.

 

He stormed over and yanked Kellen’s hand from his girl. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, asswipe?”

 

“Nolan, don’t make it a thing. He’s too drunk to be smart.” Iris laid her hand on his chest. “Let’s go. Please.”

 

Her ‘please’ nearly convinced him to back off. He didn’t want to drag her into any bullshit here; people gossiped enough as it was. But Kellen was looking for trouble.

 

“I don’t know why you think you get her. Fuckin’ pretty boy, all the girls pissin’ themselves over poor, sad Nolan. I wanted her first.” The words struggled to get over his inebriated tongue.

 

“What?” Now Iris was hot, too. She shoved her hands on her hips and glared up at her misguided suitor. “I’m not a damn doll you can fight over, Kellen.”

 

Kellen tried to shape his face into something that maybe was meant to be sad? Earnest? Whatever it was, he’d failed. “I’d’ve asked you out a long time ago if I’d known it was okay, sweetheart.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

 

Nolan knew. “It means he was too much of a pussy to face your dad.”

 

She rolled her eyes and looked back at Kellen. “It doesn’t matter. I would’ve said no. I don’t like you that much. Nolan didn’t take your chance away. You never had one.”

 

They’d drawn some attention, to the extent that a loose circle had formed. Their audience reacted to the bite of her words. Kellen reacted to their reaction. He glowered around at the little crowd and then turned a snarl on Iris.

 

“Uppity bitch.”

 

Nolan didn’t even think. He just shot his fist out and smashed his brother in the face.

 

Kellen fell off his stool, and Nolan could have let it end there.

 

But he didn’t.

 

 

~oOo~

 

 

Nolan slammed Iris against the door of his dorm room and smashed his mouth over hers. Their teeth hit, and he tried to back off, but he needed all of her, and she was right there with him, clawing and biting at him, her tongue lapping at his.

 

Kellen had gotten off a couple of shots, mainly because Nolan hadn’t taken the time from his pummeling to duck anything, and his lip was bleeding. What they were doing now hurt, and he could taste his blood, but he didn’t care. Fuck, he was so turned on he thought he’d bust.

 

She tore her mouth away; her lips and cheek were smeared with red. “I can taste your blood, are you okay?”

 

“I’m great,” he gasped and kissed her again. “You want me to stop?”

 

“No! It’s hot. Watching you fight is hot, tasting your blood is hot. I’m some kind of freak.”

 

“I like you freaky.” He shoved his hand under her top and found her tit. As he pinched her nipple over her bra, she slammed her head into the door with the force of her arch. God, he loved her tits. She responded to every touch like his fingers and tongue carried an electric charge, and she wore sexy-as-fuck bras with matching underwear. She didn’t dress fancy, except under her clothes. Like a present just for hm.

 

She was wearing a pretty standard ensemble for her—a snug plaid shirt, a little beater under it, and jeans that hugged all her curves, right down to her boots. None of that was convenient for what he wanted to do now.

 

“I need you naked. I want to fuck you against this door.”

 

Without so much as a blink, she started stripping, toeing out of her boots. He tried to help, but she was moving too quickly for it. So he started on his own clothes.

 

“No,” she said. “Stay dressed.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I want to feel your clothes on my skin. I like that.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” She unhooked her bra and cast it away. God, those tits. Nolan’s mouth watered, and his cock throbbed. “Maybe just open your shirt.” As she said it, she started on his buttons. Nolan helped, thanking God or whoever that he hadn’t worn a beater under the button-down.

 

When his shirt was open, he watched her undo his belt and jeans. She pulled him free, and then he had to take charge. Grabbing her hips, he picked her up and leaned in, putting her against the door again.

 

“Oh, yeah,” she whispered as she hooked her legs around his hips. “Fuck me, Nolan.”

 

“Jesus Christ. I don’t know if I can last.”

 

“I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

 

They weren’t usually like this. Normally, their sex was…sweeter. Intense as all hell, and molten hot, but more thoughtful.

 

He was going to have to find people to beat up more often if it got them both this wild.

 

As soon as he pushed into her, she cried out and grabbed his head, slamming her mouth on his. They kissed greedily while he thrust into her, bouncing her against the door. Then she pulled away again and yelled, “Harder!”

 

He went harder. He was going to come first, and he hated to come first unless he’d already brought her off another way, but he couldn’t withstand this assault on his senses.

 

“Fuck, Iris,” he grunted with his thrusts. “Fuck, I can’t…”

 

“Go! Go go go!”

 

He went, pounding into her without restraint until his finish tore through him.

 

As soon as he could get any kind of a grip on himself, he turned them away from the door and reeled to his bed. He dropped down, laying her on the mattress and then immediately sinking to the floor. He’d barely caught his breath, but she was close, her body still flexing, searching for her climax, and he was going to give her one.

 

While she still tasted of him, he put his mouth on her and finished her until he could no longer keep hold of her thrashing body.

 

Then he settled them both more fully on the mattress and kissed her.

 

Jesus, how he needed her. Sometimes, like now, the feeling was so strong he thought he would have simply pulled her, whole, into his body if he could have. The only place he felt really at peace, really comfortable, really safe, was in her arms. Even when she was only across town, something inside him felt empty.

 

She giggled breathlessly, and the lighthearted sound jangled against the intensity of what he was feeling.

 

“What’s funny?”

 

“That was wild.”

 

“Yeah, it was. You were on
fire
.”

 

“I liked it, the way you stood up for me.” She snuggled close. “I know I’m safe with you.”

 

He kissed her head, nuzzling into the silky cool of her hair. “Yeah, babe. You are.”

 

 

~oOo~

 

 

Nolan slumped comfortably in his chair and watched Iris, Adrienne, and his mom shepherd the little kids around Isaac and Lilli’s yard, on the hunt for Easter eggs. Bart’s pup, Demi, ran around, trying to stir up trouble, but the other Horde dogs were old and couldn’t be bothered to do much more than laze under the trees. So she chased chickens and children instead. She’d learned to bay, and she practiced often. Nolan grinned at the earnest, high-pitched sound.

 

Spring had come in as warm as the winter had been cold, and this mid-April day was perfect. He took a deep breath and brought in the smells of country spring: fertile earth, new growth, and fresh breeze.

 

He felt legitimately okay, and he had for a while. He felt like he could look forward and decide what he wanted the rest of his life to be.

 

Actually, he could look across the new grass of the Lundens’ yard and see what he wanted the rest of his life to be. She was wearing a flouncy little dress, short and low-cut, baby blue like her eyes, with tiny flowers all over it, and her favorite pair of cowboy boots, and every time she bent down to help the kids find an egg, he got a view of one end or the other that had him uncomfortable in his jeans.

 

He wanted all this: that girl, a place like this, and kids running around it. He wanted to find a place and finally be still, and he thought he could do it, because Iris was with him.

 

He’d gone to church that morning with her family. Because it was Easter Sunday, and Iris had wanted to. He hadn’t been in a church since Ani’s funeral. The service hadn’t meant anything to him, but sitting with Iris, holding her hand, in that peaceful place had been okay.

 

Lilli and Badger had the older kids over at the paddock. Len and Tasha had towed a couple of their rescue horses over, and they were saddling everybody up for a trail ride. Iris had had a little spell of angst over whether she wanted to go back home for jeans, so she could ride, too, but she’d decided to play with the little ones instead.

 

Home for Iris was still Show and Shannon’s, and Nolan was still at the clubhouse. It was working out okay; they didn’t spend every night together, anyway. Besides, they’d been together long enough that nobody really thought twice about them. Even Show was good with it now.

 

Well, good enough with it. He’d accepted that they were a couple. But they didn’t ever sleep in her bed at home. The old man had said straight out that he was not strong enough to withstand the chance he might hear his little girl getting busy.

 

The arrangements they had were good enough for now. Until they were ready to move forward. And sitting under a big tree on a perfect spring day, Nolan decided he and Iris needed to talk about what came next. He knew what he wanted it to be.

 

Nolan’s need to chase down Vega was mostly quelled. Sherlock had given him a couple of updates, so he was keeping tabs, but that was more vigilance now than vengeance. He just wanted to make sure that his club was right and the man was not a threat. When he felt restless, when something happened, or a memory rose up, and made the angry need simmer again, he just went to find Iris. She kept him focused on what he really needed.

 

On either side of him, brothers sat in similar chairs, shooting the shit, but Nolan’s focus wasn’t on their ambling conversation. He drained his beer, set the empty on the ground, and went over to the women and kids.

 

Iris was helping Caroline count the eggs in her basket. The eggs were plastic and full of candy; Lilli hadn’t wanted to find a rotten, forgotten egg under her porch in August.

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