Pinpoint (Point #4) (30 page)

“What do you think?” Inwardly, I wait with bated breath for her response.

“It’s what you were born to do. It’s a tremendous idea. But . . .”

Frowning, I cut her off with the doubts that have been plaguing me since the idea took life in my mind. “Will I sell my interest in the restaurant group? How will I break the news to Clint? That’s why you’re looking at empty land and I’m working on the opening of Mariquita.” There’s no mistaking the bitterness in my voice. “Part of me doesn’t want to abandon all that I’ve built.”

“There has to be a happy medium. Maybe two days a month you dedicate to the city restaurants and you spend the rest of your time building this place. What you’re doing now isn’t fulfilling you, so why stick with it when you have the option to do something else?” Iris pauses, glancing out the passenger window, and then looks back at me. “I have a question that may be too personal.”

“Iris.” Closing the space between us, I cup her cheek in my hand. She rushes in a breath, staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes.
There.
Affected. “Nothing’s too personal.”

Iris swallows. Her pupils dilate. “You’re going to be the sole financial backer?” Her words come out in a sexy, breathless way. Little puffs of her breath tickle across my cheeks, and I can’t help but smile like the cat that got the fucking cream.

Point made. I have her.

Releasing her silky skin, I shift back to the driver’s seat. “The only investors I’ll take are my parents.”

“Some people say working with family is a recipe for disaster,” she comments.

“I’ve heard that,” I say wryly. “But we’ve decided this is going to be a family deal, and we’re going to name it after my mother’s middle name—Caroline.”

“Oscar, I don’t know how you can say you don’t have time in your life for anything other than work. You’re incredibly invested in your family.” She looks at me with a faithful devotion that literally makes my heart feel like it’s swelling in my chest.

The words roll around in my mind. I think of clearing my schedule for family dinners, supporting my mother’s fundraising events, and volunteering alongside her and my father. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“Can we go outside and walk around for a few minutes? I know it’s cold outside, but I’d love to have the land underneath my feet, get a feel for your creation.” Iris smiles cheekily. “Then I’ll be able to say I knew this place when.”

Somehow, my chest expands with more pride. Knowing that she believes in my vision makes me feel like I can conquer anything. It reinforces my drive to make Caroline a reality and to bring Iris along with me on the journey.

“Come on. Let’s get the land underneath our feet.” Iris doesn’t wait for me to open her door; she meets me around the front of the hood, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement.

“After you,” I say gallantly.

Iris moves forward swiftly, covering the land with curious steps and searching eyes. No spot of grass goes unchecked by her roving eyes. She doesn’t stop moving until she’s a few feet shy of the sand. I move to stand next to her, waiting with urgency to hear what she thinks.

“I’m envisioning indoor/outdoor dining. Maybe a wall of windows for a view of the lake in the winter but can open to let the air in during the summer. There could be a deck, special occasion brunches, and romantic dinners.” Iris’ breath catches in her throat, and she looks at me sheepishly. “I’m getting ahead of myself, throwing all these ideas at you. You probably have the whole thing laid out in your mind. Have you met with an architect?”

The wind tussles the ribbons of cornflower silk around her shoulders. Sunlight nearly makes her glow with radiance. For a moment, all I’m able to do is take in all that is Iris Harper. She steals my breath. She makes my heartbeat slow down and speed up at the same time. She’s everything I dreamed of, and I’m finally waking up.

“No,” I say huskily. “No architect yet. I want to hear your opinion, Iris. I value it immensely. Your support makes me believe I can pull this off.”

Pinkness colors her cheeks. She gives me her profile, watching the gentle roll of the waves on the lake.

“What are we doing here, Oscar?”

Blatantly ignoring the real question, I respond confidently. “We’re talking about my business venture.”

She whips back to look at me. “This is more than a business venture. This is what’s left after you achieved the success that doesn’t fulfill you the way you imagined it would.” Iris shivers, hugging her coat close to her chest. “Explain to me why you want to open Caroline when you have one of the world’s best restaurants in the city. Explain why you need another place when you’re opening Mariquita in a month.”

“Because they’re not what I want,” I growl, suddenly angry at the realization. “All the notoriety in the world won’t give me the creative outlet I desire. Mariposa is untouchable. There’s no warmth, and the kitchen is completely sterile. And you know what the worst part is? I have no one to blame but myself. As much as I want to cook, I don’t want to cook there in a silent kitchen. I want local ingredients and a menu that changes based on what’s available. I want a place that is, yes, upscale, but not out of reach.”

Iris’ lips hitch at the corners. “Then do it, Oscar. Catch your dream. You deserve it.”

Something inside me snaps at her advice. Yes, Caroline is what I want, but it won’t mean anything to me if I don’t have Iris as part of that reality. Her standing there, the wind teasing her hair, eyes filled with respect, hugging her body for warmth, I can’t resist her. Rushing forward, not giving her a moment to hesitate, I yank Iris into my arms and crush my lips over hers.

Iris melts into me. Her hands grip my biceps. I take it as an invitation to mold her soft curves against my urgent, demanding body. I drag my tongue against the seam of her lips until they part.

How could I think I could resist her? Just one taste and the world around me fades. She brings the best parts of life into focus. She gives me loyalty, faithfulness, consideration, devotion, acceptance. And the way her body fits against mine makes me know we were meant to be together. Like two halves of a whole coming together.

I’m home.

A moment later, I’m tasting the air. Iris takes two steps backward. Her chest literally heaves with each breath. She pushes a hand through her hair. She’s shaking, and I don’t know if it’s because of the temperature or something else.

“I can’t do this!” she cries. “You may be able to have a physical connection without an emotional once, but I can’t. No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “I won’t.”

The finality in her voice gives me a beat of pause, but I refuse to let it deter my mission.

“Iris.” I step toward her, keeping my voice gentle and soothing. But with each amount of distance I close between us, she moves backward. “I can’t do this friends bullshit anymore either. We’re on the same page.”

Iris stops moving, and I’m able to slip my arms around her waist. Her chest brushes against mine, and I realize that my heart is thudding in my chest. Hell, I’m nervous and starting to wonder if I pushed her too far.

“Are we?” she asks, mystified.

I fix my gaze on hers, hoping to convey all the sincerity “I brought you here because I want you to be part of the future I’m building.”

Underneath my hands, Iris tenses. “As your friend.” There’s no question. That’s how she sees our relationship. Shit. I need to get on to the next phase of my plan.

Step four: confession time.

“No, as more than my friend. Iris, I want you to be part of Caroline and not just as someone supporting me from the sidelines. Build this place with me. Be my partner in Caroline and be with me. Hell, if you don’t want part of Caroline, then just be mine.”

She stares at me dumbfounded. “One minute, we’re sleeping together, the next, we’re just friends, and now, you want me to . . . What exactly is it that you want from me? I’m having a hard time keeping up with your ever-changing mood.”

“All along, I’ve wanted you. But I was too stubborn to let myself be vulnerable to you. I know I’ve said and done things that aren’t in alignment with what I’m telling you now, Iris, but that was all a mistake. Forget about the past. Be in a relationship with me. Show me how to make time for a significant other. Come to dinners with my parents and take me on double dates with your sister and Cam. I want all of it. Every bit as long as it involves you.”

Iris’ eyes fill tears, and from the despair in her expression, I know these aren’t happy ones. For the first time, I start to wonder if I’m too late.

Fuck that. I ignore the doubts and urge Iris closer. “Give me another shot to show you how much I adore you.”

“Forget about the past?” She repeats the phrase faintly. Her body doesn’t move, but I can almost see her retreating.

Instantly, I want to swallow the words back.

“One day, you’re warm, the next day, you’re cold. One moment, we’re emotionally available, the next, you’ve distanced yourself, and I can’t figure out how to get you back. I—I don’t sleep around. I gave you a part of me that I cherish and when you rejected me . . .” Iris tries to gather her scattered thoughts, but she looks overwhelmed.

I hold my breath while I wait for her to continue.

“You hurt me, Oscar,” she says quietly. There’s no hiding my wince. “Once I got over that, I convinced myself that we would be nothing more than friends. Ever. As much as I wanted to be with you”—I wince at the past tense—“I told myself that it would never happen. Now, with no rhyme or reason, you suddenly want to be with me. How can I trust that you won’t change your mind tomorrow?”

It’s then I realize her lips are turning blue. Shit. The cold air isn’t bothering me; in fact, I feel like a fucking furnace heating me from the outside out. Slipping my arm around her shoulders and hugging her to my side, I lead her back toward my car.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” I chastise.

“We’re in the middle of a serious conversation.”

“Don’t think I’m ignoring what you asked me. You need heat before you catch pneumonia.” I bundle Iris into the car and race around the front to turn on the engine and blast the air vents in her direction.

“Look at me, Iris.” She tilts her head in my direction, disbelief painted on her features. “I am not going to change my mind. All along, I’ve wanted you. That hasn’t changed from the first moment I saw you singing along to Jackson 5 at Expertly Planned. The only thing that’s different now is I realize that all my excuses were garbage. I’m done acting like a scared boy.”

Iris shakes her head morosely. Her gaze falls to her lap.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you unguarded. But I know you’re still holding back. I have this premonition that you’ll never truly let me in,” she says with enough sorrow to make me feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

A sardonic laugh builds in my chest. While I’m imagining us spending the rest of our lives together, she’s picturing me keeping secrets.

“What do you want to know, Iris? When it comes to you, I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Tell me about your family,” she says instantly.

The words stick in my throat like they’re thick peanut butter. For a moment, I can hardly swallow.
No one
knows about my past. Did I really think I could be with Iris and not tell her about my background? I don’t know if I’m prepared to tell her everything. To let her see the ugliness that makes up my DNA. Mother addicted to heroin. Father a pimp.

Lost in my own thoughts, I don’t realize that Iris grows more dismayed by each passing moment that I don’t speak.

“I wish I could trust you,” she whispers.

That’s when I know I’ve lost her. At least, at this moment, there’s no winning her over. But I am not forlorn. If anything, my resolution just strengthens.

I turn my attention to the wheel and shift the car into drive. The aggression building inside me shows itself in the way I roar the car into drive and speed off the land. “I’m not giving up on you, Iris Harper,” I say with all the steely determination of Odysseus returning to his family after the Trojan War.

Probably, my heart should be cracking in my chest. I should be drowning in despair because I know what she’s saying underneath those words: no. Well, fuck that. Mariposa didn’t become a sensation in one night. I’m used to hard work, and there’s no way I’m letting this woman go.

Iris

Am I an idiot? Have I made the biggest mistake of my life?

All I wanted was for him to want me in the way I want him. And what do I do when he does as I dreamed? I turn him down.

Moronic.

Telling Oscar no when he opened his heart to me was nothing short of rejection. But instead of seeing desolation, I see nothing but determination in him. When he dropped me off at home that night, he kissed me on the forehead and told me it wasn’t the end. I want to believe him—Oh, how easy it would be to accept his proposition. But I’m scared. No. Terrified. I am terrified that he’ll change his mind.

It sounds melodramatic, I know, but I need to protect my heart. I made that decision after a counseling session with my sister and Dex. They told me that it’s ultimately my call, but I got the feeling my sister was pushing me toward Oscar. She kept telling me how everyone deserves a second chance.