“I’d love to see them,” she said, her gaze shifting to Jack. His eyes were already on her.
“I’d like to see them because you took them,” he said to Iris.
Dustin had never met a picture he didn’t like, and Chewie was just happy to be included, so they all crowded around Iris to see the photos on her phone, and they truly were the perfect union of an ideal specimen and a talented photographer.
“These are going to make us money,” Maisie said honestly. “You did good, kid.”
“Maybe we can even make prints and sell them!” Iris said happily.
“Um, that’s a hard no,” Jack said.
“You won’t do it for the dogs?” Iris said, and Maisie grinned at her.
“Keep working those heartstrings, kid. You’ve got a talent for it.”
Then they scrolled to the last picture—the snap of Jack and Maisie laughing together, eyes and faces bright with it—and he reached around to touch the small of her back. It was a brief touch, but it told her all she needed to know: there might not be something between them yet, but there wasn’t nothing either.
Chapter Twenty
“Shopping in downtown Asheville is nothing like shopping on the Magnificent Mile,” Iris said as she and Jack walked past a yarn store.
Iris and Jack didn’t have many holiday traditions, but shopping on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago had become one of their favorites. It had started the year Iris was eleven. Their mother had made a last-minute date and dropped her off with Jack at work. It was a few days before Christmas, and Iris was upset that she hadn’t bought any Christmas presents yet. Jack got someone to cover his shift, and the two of them went shopping and had dinner. Iris had loved it so much that she’d asked to do it again the next year. After that it had just become their thing.
Their mother had gotten jealous a couple of years ago and insisted on joining them, but Iris had convinced her to stay home by saying they still needed to find her a present. Wanting to dissuade future efforts to interfere, Jack had put extra effort into choosing Genevieve’s gift that year. He really loved his time with his sister, and their mother had a way of ruining things, sometimes on purpose, sometimes because she couldn’t help herself.
“I know,” he said, “but the important part is that we’re doing it together, right?”
“It’s not like before,” she said without any hint of anger or self-pity. “We’re together all the time now.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did she want to go home? Or was she trying to tell him something deeper? It had been so much easier to read her when she was that mostly innocent eleven-year-old, excited by the window displays.
“I’m sorry we can’t go back to Chicago for Christmas,” he said. “I know you really wanted to see Janie, but maybe you can go over spring break.”
“I wouldn’t have seen Janie anyway. Her parents decided to take her and her brother to Disney World,” Iris said, refusing to look at him. “One last family trip before college. So there’d be no point to going home.”
Was she upset they weren’t doing something like that? He’d never been able to bring her on a real vacation, not on his salary. And their mother had always preferred to go on solo vacations, leaving Iris with Jack or a nanny.
“Besides,” she said, “Mom’s not even going to be there. She’s going somewhere with her new boyfriend.”
“You found out about that?” He hadn’t told her, and as far as he knew, she’d only talked to their mother a handful of times since she’d arrived in Asheville.
She gave him an exasperated look and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby. You could have told me.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I just feel like I’ve caused you enough grief. I didn’t want to hand you any more.”
She stopped and looked at a window display of an eclectic gift shop. “We both know that Genevieve didn’t really want to see me. She doesn’t want custody either. It’s all a game to her. You’re her opponent and I’m the prize, only if she won me, she wouldn’t want me anymore.”
“Iris…” His voice broke off.
“Relax, Jack,” she said, making a brave attempt to sound nonchalant, but he’d known her for seventeen years. He recognized the pain in her voice all too well. He’d felt it himself more times than he could count. “I know you really love me, otherwise you wouldn’t deal with all my crap.”
He went to pull her into a hug, but she took off walking again, forcing a cheerful tone as she said, “I need to get Maisie a present. Have you gotten her one yet?”
He nearly stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk. “What? Why would I get her a present?”
“She’s friends with Addy, right? They all seem like the kind of people who’d get each other gifts, and besides, we’re seeing her on Christmas Eve. We have to get her a gift.”
“Shared gift or separate?” he asked, trying not to panic, although he had no idea why the thought would make him react that way.
No, that was a lie. He knew why he was panicking. He’d already considered getting her a gift and wondered if it was appropriate.
Although he hadn’t seen her since last Thursday, he’d given in to the temptation to text her on Sunday, when a work emergency had kept him from coming to the shelter with Iris. It was the first time he’d used her number, which he’d gotten from Adalia. They hadn’t stopped texting since. It was Thursday now, one of Iris’s usual afternoons at the shelter, but it had been the best time for their shopping tradition, and Maisie had apparently told Iris she’d more than earned a break.
“I already know what I’m getting her,” Iris said. “Get your own gift. Come on.”
She ducked into a store featuring handcrafted items from all over the world, and Jack smiled to himself. This was the perfect place to find Maisie a gift.
Iris knew exactly what she wanted. She’d seen a throw pillow she thought would go perfectly with Maisie’s new bedding. And Maisie would love it even more knowing the purchase had empowered women in a developing country. Jack, on the other hand, was wandering the store aimlessly when something finally caught his eye.
“Is this for a special someone?” a friendly salesclerk asked. “That scarf was woven in India by women who escaped abusive relationships.”
“I like the color,” Jack said, feeling like a fool for saying it. It seemed insignificant compared to the story of who made it, but all he could think of was how close it was to the green of her eyes.
“Oh,” Iris said, walking up behind him. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but his heart was racing.
Why was his heart racing? It was just a scarf, yet he knew this was important. What he gave her mattered. It couldn’t be so small it came across as insignificant, but he couldn’t put too much money and effort into it, or he would come off as a stalker. The gift had to be just right.
“It’s perfect,” Iris said. “Let them gift wrap it for you.”
“We have wrapping paper at home.”
“Like I said,” Iris said with a raised brow, “let them wrap it.”
He laughed. “The was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. Thanks.” He nodded to the saleswoman. “I guess I’ll be getting it gift wrapped.”
“Wise choice,” the saleswoman said as she carried it behind the counter.
“Do you still need gifts for anyone else?” Iris asked, sounding happier than she had earlier. “We have more people to buy for than usual.”
They usually just got gifts for the three of them, and their mother had told them years ago that she strongly preferred gift cards, but Iris was right. Their circle had expanded, and it now included his new siblings and their significant others as well as Dottie and Maisie. Jack worried Iris would be overwhelmed by the prospect, but now that she was finding her place in Asheville, she seemed to love the idea of a big celebration.
“I have something for everyone except for Victoria.”
“And Prescott,” she said, curling he
r upper lip in disgust.
“I won’t be getting a gift for Prescott.”
Iris put her hand on his upper arm. “He doesn’t deserve one, Jack. He doesn’t deserve you.”
He gave her a tight smile. “Thanks.”
A mischievous grin lit up her eyes. “I say we get Victoria a smelly candle. The smellier the better.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“Trust me,” Iris said. “I’ve heard all about her from Addy. I know just which one to get.”
It sounded like trouble, but you really couldn’t get too upset over a terrible candle scent…or could you? While he didn’t care much for Victoria’s opinion, it wasn’t Victoria who worried him.
Iris picked out a candle and declared it would be from the both of them. Jack took a big whiff before the sales staff started to wrap it and nearly fell over from the combined scents of dirty laundry and cinnamon.
“Are you sure, Iris?” he whispered as a second clerk rang up their purchases.
“Oh,” she said with wide eyes. “I’m very, very sure.”
“It’s just…” He paused and took a breath. “I don’t want to offend Lee.”
Twisting her lips, she seemed to reconsider, then turned and looked him in the eye. “If he rejects you because you gave his girlfriend a candle that smells like a cinnamon roll that was left out for days in a pile of wet towels, then he doesn’t deserve you either.” She lifted one shoulder dramatically. “But he’s not my brother, so feel free to blame it all on me. Guys have the women in their lives buy their gifts all the time.”
“I’m not like those guys, Iris.”
She turned and looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I know, Jack. Trust me. I know.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that, but the salesclerk gave him his total, and he paid for the purchase. They grabbed their bags and headed out the door.
“I’m starving,” Iris said. “Let’s eat at that place with the great Southern food.”
Jack laughed. “Which one? There are several here.”
She named a restaurant a block away, so they headed over, enjoying the walk in the cool evening air.
“Remember our Magnificent Mile trip four years ago?” Iris asked with a laugh. “It was so cold we had to keep going into stores to get warm.”
He laughed too. “I remember going into that Victoria’s Secret store and buying a bra for the woman I was dating so I wouldn’t look like a pervert shopping with a preteen girl.”
“I was thirteen, so I was very much a teenager, not a preteen.”
“I still looked like a pervert.”
She laughed again. “Everyone knew you weren’t comfortable being there. But Sally got a new bra out of it.”
“Celia. And we’d only been dating a few weeks, so giving her a bra for Christmas wasn’t the best move.”
“You gave it to her for Christmas?” She shook her head, her eyes dancing. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“Let’s just say I’m smarter now.”
There was a ten-minute wait at the restaurant, so they stood on the sidewalk, watching the shoppers pass by. And while it wasn’t the Magnificent Mile, there was a festive feel to it. Decorations and lights hung from poles along the streets, and the stores all had inviting displays. Iris seemed more relaxed than he’d seen her since she’d come to Asheville, but he knew better than to mention it.
Two women were walking toward them, carrying shopping bags, and the blonde leaned into her brunette friend, whispering something Jack couldn’t hear. They stopped and giggled before one of them said, “Hey, you’re the guy with the dogs on Instagram, aren’t you?”
Iris practically bounced out of her skin. “Yes! He is!”
She’d been posting photos of Jack every day in her Dog Days of Christmas campaign, and the reach had been steadily growing, but this was the first time a stranger had recognized him on the street.
They eyed her curiously, and Jack realized they were trying to figure out Iris’s relationship to him. She was too old to be his daughter and too young to be his girlfriend, and although they had similar coloring, few people put together that they were siblings.
“She’s my little sister,” he announced.
Iris shot him a dark look. She hated being called his little sister.
“Oh!” the women exclaimed, both of them relaxing.
“He’s very single,” Iris said.
Jack groaned inwardly as the attention on him intensified.
“I thought about adopting that black and white dog you were holding,” the blonde said, tilting her head. “Shirtless.”
“Most dogs are shirtless,” Jack said.
“Oh, you’re so funny!” the blonde said, then turned to her friend. “Isn’t he funny?”
“Most of the photos were of Jack shirtless,” Iris said. She shot him an I told you it was a good idea look. He was glad she thought so, because he was now having serious misgivings.
“Do you give tours of the shelter?” the brunette asked.
“Maybe you can introduce me to that cute little dog,” the blonde said. “I’d love to meet her.”
“Him,” Jack said, really wanting to turn her down, but one of the purposes of the photos had been to give the dogs homes. Still, that didn’t mean he had to give her a personal tour. “The shelter’s open until six tomorrow. You should stop by. Lucky’s a cutie.”
“Will you be there?” the blonde asked, giving him flirty eyes.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“But he volunteers on Sundays,” Iris said.
“But not this Sunday,” Jack quickly interjected. “Because of Christmas. So you should probably check out Lucky before then.” He forced a smile. “Then you’ll be able to have him home for Christmas.”
She poured on the charm. “Will you come over so I can get more photos of you with her?”
“Him,” Jack said. “And sorry. My schedule is booked solid for the next week.”
“Wedding plans,” Iris said, rolling her eyes in disgust.
She’d made it no secret that she thought having bachelor and bachelorette parties before the engagement party and months before the wedding was beyond ridiculous, and she never wasted an opportunity to let her feelings be known. He thought it was strange himself, but Dottie was involved, and he was used to the unusual when it came to her. He’d learned not to question it…unless a turkey fryer was involved.
“Well, maybe when you get back to your usual volunteering schedule,” the woman said.
Jack tried to hide his disgust. She wasn’t interested in adopting a dog. She was only using Lucky as an excuse. The buzzer in his hand began to vibrate, and he lifted it up in near triumph. “Our table’s ready. Have a nice evening, ladies.”
Then, before Iris had a chance to tell them he worked at Buchanan Brewery and suggest they go see him there, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the restaurant.
“Why didn’t you get her number?” Iris asked once they were seated at their table.
“I wasn’t interested,” he said, opening his menu and hoping hunger would distract her.
“Since when are you not interested in getting attractive women’s numbers?”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Iris.”
She paused for several seconds, then picked up her menu. “You mean me.”
“Not just you,” he insisted. “The brewery too.”
“Don’t put your life on hold for me, Jack,” she said, keeping her gaze on the open menu. “You should date.”
He swallowed his rising excitement and said nonchalantly, “But you were so insistent that I couldn’t date Maisie. I figured you’d prefer it if I didn’t date at all. And I get it. You didn’t move here just for me to be gone every night on dates.”
“Every night,” she scoffed. “One of your bachelor rules was to never go out two nights in a row so the woman wouldn’t think you were an official couple.”
H
e cringed. It was true. He’d given himself a lot of rules after his last girlfriend had broken up with him because of Iris, yet when he thought of seeing Maisie out in the open, every single one of them flew out the window. “But you lost it when you thought I might be flirting with Maisie.”
“She’s different,” she said with a frown. “She’s my friend. I can’t risk you pulling your usual cut-and-run crap with her.”
His heart sank. “What does that mean?”
She glanced up in exasperation. “It means you’re notorious for breaking women’s hearts, and I can’t risk that with Maisie. Can you imagine how awkward it would be for me if you tossed her aside?”
“Why are you presuming I’d toss her aside? And I actually disagree with that assessment. Every woman I’ve dated knew my limitations going into it.”
“And I’m sure all of them were totally on board.”
“Hey,” he said, lifting up his hands. “I can’t help it if they didn’t take me at my word.” Then, because he couldn’t stand her thinking he’d mistreat Maisie, he said, “I would never do that to Maisie. Never.”
She studied him for a long moment. “I guess we’ll never know.” Her gaze dropped to the menu. “Bacon-fried Brussels sprouts? Who in their right mind would think that sounds good?”
“I do,” he said a little too defensively. “I like Brussels sprouts fried in bacon grease.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Geez. Calm down. Fine. You made your point. I was wrong. Some people like Brussels sprouts.”
That wasn’t the only thing she was wrong about, but he couldn’t guarantee things would work out with him and Maisie, and he didn’t want her to think her friendship with Maisie was in jeopardy. The ground he was on with Iris was still too shaky for him to take that risk.
Which meant he had to keep waiting, at least for long enough to soothe Iris’s fears. He’d never waited for a woman in his life. Maybe it would be good for him. He only hoped he didn’t lose her before he got his chance.
Getting Lucky (Asheville Brewing Book 3) Page 18