by Kira Archer
Nash asked the driver to take them back to the pier. Iris cuddled against him, trying to forget everything else going on around her except for his heat, his smell, the feel of him under her fingers, him. They arrived at the pier all too soon and climbed out, once again asking the driver to wait for them.
He shrugged and pulled out his paper again. Iris and Nash made their way to the Ferris wheel. She had no idea how they were going to get their luggage if it was there. They’d almost gotten caught trying to get away the first time.
They stopped a little ways away from it, scoping things out.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked him. “The car we were in was pretty high up. It’s not like the guy is just going to turn the thing on to help us out.”
Nash stared at it, rubbing his chin with his fingers like some criminal mastermind. Though the image was completely spoiled by the long velvet gloves he wore. Iris turned her face to hide her smile.
“Look,” Nash whispered. “They just turned off the lights. They must be done for the night. If we wait a few minutes we can probably sneak over there and look around.”
“K. But how exactly are we going to do that?”
“I’ve got a plan. Come on.”
Iris watched him for a second, scuttling low to the ground toward the wheel, his seriously fine ass contoured in his jeans as he bobbed around in the dark. She bit her lip. Damn but he was adorable.
“Iris!” he hissed.
She snapped out of it and followed him until they were standing under the gondola they’d been in. They stood looking up at it.
“Okay. Now what?” she asked.
“One of us needs to get up in there and look.”
“One of us?”
He grinned at her. “Well, you can give me a boost if you want, but I figure it might work better the other way around.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t even try and lie to herself and pretend she hadn’t had an amazing time with him in that contraption. But the whole drop to your death escape wasn’t something she wanted to repeat.
“Seriously?”
He shrugged and folded his arms over his chest, looking up at the gondola again. “You got any better ideas?”
She sighed. “No. Fine. Give me a boost. Let’s get this over with.”
He grinned and bent over, making a foothold for her with his hands.
She grabbed his shoulders and hefted her foot into his hands, then glared at him. “You don’t have to look like you’re enjoying this so much, you know.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. Kinda am, though.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hoist me up, Hazel.”
“With pleasure,” he said with a wink.
Before she could react to the definite sensual promise in his voice, he lifted her. It took all her willpower not to squeal like a little chipmunk. When she got about shoulder level she had to grab his head to help keep her steady.
“Watch the hat!” he warned.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got to hold onto something, and your head is the only thing I can reach.”
“Just…be careful then,” he said, resigned but obviously not happy about it. That cheered her considerably.
She tried to swing her feet but ended up sort of straddling his shoulders. He tightened his grip, trying to steady her. It took a bit of maneuvering, but she managed to get a foot on each of his shoulders.
“Okay, now stand,” Nash said.
“You stand,” she snapped at him, frantically gripping his head.
“I am standing,” he pointed out. “Look up. It’s right above your head. Just stand and reach.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She took a deep breath and stood up, reaching a hand over her head. He shifted under her and she squeaked, grabbing at his head again. “Hold still!”
“Sorry.”
She reached up again. He stayed steady, so she risked letting go with both hands. The gondola was just within her reach. She got the best grip she could, standing on her toes on his shoulders. He grunted, probably in pain, which only served him right, but he did what he could to boost her farther up.
Luckily the door was still open. The technician must not have felt the need to check it out after they’d made their getaway. Sloppy job, but good for them. She’d never have been able to get inside if the doors had been closed.
She grabbed a hold of the bar that bolted the bench down and hauled herself half in, looking around as soon as her eyes were at the right level.
Clyde and the Sloane Ranger! “They’re in here!” she called down to him, relief washing over her at the sight of the beat-up brown suitcase and her beautiful pink duffel.
She shimmied the rest of the way in and grabbed the bags. One at a time, she dropped them down to Nash. Then he waved at her, holding up his arms. “Drop down, just like last time,” he called up.
Sure. Easy-peasy, right? She swallowed past the bile in her throat and scooted back out.
Her feet dangled as she sought for something solid to stand on. A grunt and a curse let her know she’d found him.
“Sorry,” she said, though she couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice.
“Sure you are.” He sighed, though he sounded amused, too. “Come on, quit hanging around. Let’s get out of here.”
“Oh har, har,” she said, scooting farther until she hung by her hands again.
“You’re right over me, just drop.”
“This has got to be the most fucked-up trust challenge I’ve ever had to do,” she muttered.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Hey, you two! What are you doing over there?”
“Shit. Let go, Iris. Security’s back!”
Adrenaline and fear shot through Iris, and she released her hold with a little “Eep!” Nash’s arms closed around her but neither took the time to enjoy it. He set her on her feet, and they each grabbed a bag and hauled ass back to the cab. This guy was a little more invested in catching them than the last guy had been. Iris and Nash picked up the pace. Nash wrenched open the cab door, and Iris scurried inside as fast as she could.
Nash and Clyde were still hanging out the door when Iris and Nash both yelled, “Drive! Drive!”
Chapter Fifteen
Nash slammed the door shut and collapsed against Iris, laughing his fool ass off. The driver was understandably startled but, bless his little heart, he stomped on the gas and peeled out of there as fast as that ugly yellow cab could carry them.
“Oh my God,” Nash said, trying to drag enough air into his burning lungs to calm his pounding heart. “He almost caught us.”
Iris held on to him, wheezing. “I seriously need to hit the gym more. I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
That made Nash laugh harder, and they dissolved into hysterical laughter for a few seconds before calming enough to situate themselves on the seat. Once they’d gained some semblance of composure, Nash asked the driver to take them back to Millennium Park.
The cab driver didn’t even ask what they’d been up to. Nash wanted to know what he was on and if he could have some, because nothing seemed to faze the guy.
“Wait,” Nash said, pointing out toward the lake. “What are those?”
Several silver spiral-shaped kiosks sat along the shoreline, glinting in the fading moonlight.
“Lakefront kiosks,” the driver said. “There was some contest a while back. The architect who won built those.” He jerked a thumb at them.
“Want to check them out?” Nash asked Iris.
“Sure. We’ve got some time before we have to be back at the airport.”
His heart jumped in his chest at the chance to spend a little more time with her. He wasn’t ready to give her up just yet.
“You want me to wait?” the driver asked.
“No, thanks,” Nash said, glancing at Iris as they climbed out of the cab. He di
dn’t want to worry about some meter running while they spent their last private moments together.
The lakefront was deserted as they made their way to one of the kiosks.
“Wow,” Iris breathed. “These are seriously cool.”
Nash nodded, just as affected as she. The kiosks sat, spread along the beach, little spots of modern art along the water’s edge. Each one resembled a thick, silver, spiral staircase. He supposed that’s what they actually were. They surveyed the one closest to them. An area beneath it offered a sheltered place to stand and look out at the water, and a spiral ramp curled around leading up to an observation deck.
“Want to go up top?” he asked.
Iris glanced at him and smiled. “Sure.”
He guided her to the top with his hand on the small of her back. When they reached the top he released an appreciative sigh. They had the area to themselves. Not surprising, since it was the crack of dawn and still frigidly cold out. But the view before them, with the lake and the Chicago skyline, was worth braving the chill.
Iris leaned against the edge of the kiosk, gazing out over the water. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her to shelter her from the cold morning air. The sun would rise soon. The pitch black of night had lightened to a murky dark purple that promised light, though none was visible just yet. Still, it wasn’t far off. And then they’d need to go back to the airport, get on their plane, fly to Miami, and then go their separate ways.
He rested his cheek on her temple, and she leaned back in to him with a sigh.
“Thank you,” he said.
The words seemed so inadequate for what she’d given him. For the utter magic of the night they’d spent together. For the laughter and the memories and the sheer energy she’d brought into his life.
She tilted her head back to look up at him. “For what?”
He tightened his hold on her and looked back out over the water. “At the risk of sounding like a complete cheesefest chick flick—for being you.” He smiled down at her. “Have you ever met someone who maybe you might have only bumped into or spoken with once or had just a brief encounter with, but that person did or said something that affected you so much you knew you’d never be the same?”
Iris was quiet for a moment, long enough that he started to wish he hadn’t said anything at all. She must think him a philosophical fool.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“You’ve changed me, Iris. I don’t even know how to explain it. But everything just seems different now. In a good way,” he added with a smile.
She shifted, remaining in the circle of his arms but turning so she faced him. She smiled up at him with a look so caring and tender his heart ached. “If someone had told me before tonight that such a thing was possible, I’d have said they were insane. I don’t know what this is between us. If it’s anything at all or just some residual lust that can’t figure out where to go.”
He smiled at that, though he knew his face echoed the sadness that creased her eyes.
She drew a hand down his chest, tugging a bit on his shirt. “Even if we never speak again, I know I won’t ever forget you. You’ve changed some part of me, too. I walk around with a cynical little shell around my heart. No one’s ever cracked it before.”
“And I have?” he asked, trying to be lighthearted, though she was tearing him apart inside.
She shook her head. “You’ve shattered it, I think.”
Her words struck him like a blow to the chest. She looked down at her feet and leaned her head against him. He hugged her to him, his heart pounding, and kissed the top of her head, though she probably didn’t feel it through the massive fur hat she wore.
A deep shuddering sigh ran through her, and she raised her face back to his, a sad smile on her lips. He pulled off his gloves, wanting to feel her on his skin, and brushed a thumb across her lower lip, trailing his hand up to cup her face.
She leaned in to him, squeezing her eyes shut and he bent down to kiss her. What started out slow and gentle quickly turned urgent. Their lips feverishly moved together, their hands gripping each other tight. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t feel enough, taste enough. He wanted to memorize every line of her, touch every inch of her that he could so that he’d never, ever forget. He pulled her close and sank to the floor, bringing her with him. She straddled him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.
“Iris,” he murmured.
She wriggled against him, waking up parts that he’d thought had had enough use for the day. Apparently not.
Her lips found his neck, and he sucked in a breath. The urgency in her increased, a frantic energy in the way her hands roamed over him that dragged him along with her.
“No one’s around,” she said. “We’ll hear them crunching through the snow if they do come. We only have a little time left.” She sat up and looked into his eyes. “Once more. Make love to me once more.”
Once more. The words tore a hole in Nash’s heart. He threaded his hands through her hair and hauled her back to him, kissing her until his lungs screamed for air. Their hands fumbled between them, yanking on zippers, ripping at buttons. She kicked off her shoes, removing enough bottom layers so he could touch her.
This would have to be fast. She’d freeze to death if they made it last too long. But he couldn’t not touch her, couldn’t give up one last opportunity to be with her. He dug the last condom from his pocket and rolled it on, and then he was inside her and she was moving. She held onto his shoulders, her eyes staring into his. His hands gripped her waist, his heart jackhammering in his chest. The cold air hit him only to be replaced by the hot walls of her flesh as she rose and fell on him.
And still, their gazes remained locked. He could see the pleasure building in her, her mouth open, her eyes glazed though she never looked away. He thrust into her as she rode him, the tempo increasing until they were both panting. She rocked on him, her breath escaping in little moans that came faster and faster until she tensed, her nails digging into his shoulders as her inner walls convulsed around him. One more thrust and he found his own release, his gaze burning into hers.
She collapsed against him, her head on his shoulder snuggling against his neck. They held each other for a moment, breath mingling in the cold air, hearts frantically beating together. Slowly they calmed, and his lips found hers, the brush of their mouths together as soft as their lovemaking had been frenzied. It was all the more intense with the knowledge that it had been the last time they’d be together like that. One short plane ride, and it would be time to say good-bye.
Iris dragged her clothes back into place and put her boots on while Nash quickly cleaned up. Just minutes after they’d begun, they were back at the railing, Nash cradling Iris from behind, their arms locked around each other as the sun rose over the lake, its rays glinting off the placid water and snowy shoreline.
The soft morning light crept along the beach, reflecting off the silver of the kiosks. They stayed until the sun had fully risen, bathing them in its radiance, if not its warmth.
“You remember when I said that the sunrises at the ranch made every other sunrise pale in comparison?”
She nodded, her head pressed against his chest.
“I was wrong.”
She turned in his arms, her eyes searching his.
He stroked a thumb across her cheek. “All my sunrises will pale compared to this one.”
The sun painted her hair in a halo of reds and golds. She rose on her toes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, sealing the moment into his heart forever.
Then without a word, Nash took Iris’s hand and they descended, slowly making their way back to the road, Clyde and the Sloane Ranger making tracks in the snow behind them.
Chapter Sixteen
They made it back to the airport in time to catch their plane, which was thankfully on time and ready to fly. Depositing their temporary threads into a donation bin outside the airport was excruciating. It was more like she was feeding lit
tle pieces of her heart into the bin instead of articles of clothing. When she got to the coat, she couldn’t do it. She wanted to keep something of this night. She’d never see hot pink and blue fur again without every moment roaring back to life in her mind. Sloane was packed to bursting, so she just carried the coat with her, only barely resisting the urge to rub her face in the fur for comfort.
When they checked in they were able to get seats next to each other, a bittersweet consolation. They’d have more time together. But it was more time to say good-bye. It was almost too cruel.
They settled into their seats, immediately raising the armrest so they could wrap their arms around each other. Iris didn’t even notice when the plane took off.
“Hey,” Nash said, gently tapping her chin to get her to look up at him. “This doesn’t have to be good-bye, you know. There’s no reason we can’t keep in touch. It is the twenty-first century.”
Iris gave him a sad smile. “Sure. We can text.”
“And call.”
“And Skype.”
“Or FaceTime,” he said, returning her sad smile.
“Maybe we could visit.” She laid her head back against his arm, just far enough that she could gaze into his tender hazel eyes without everything blurring.
“I’d love to show you my spread. I think you’d like it.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it. What would you show me?”
His arm tightened around her, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“Oh, I’d give you the grand tour. The house was built by my great-grandparents. We’ve added to it since then. It’s all modern, so you don’t have to use an outhouse or anything,” he said, laughing.
“Ah, too bad. That would be an interesting experience.”
“We still have it, actually, so you can use it if you want to. In fact, my dad drinks his first cup of coffee out in the outhouse every morning with his paper.”
Iris laughed and sat up a little, searching his face to see if he was teasing. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Dad loves using the outhouse first thing in the morning. Out there in nature, breathing in the cool morning air. He said there’s nothing better to get the pipes working for a good and proper wake-up.”