"Mom!" Fuck, I know Mom adores Iris, but this is getting ridiculous. She drops hints about marriage nearly every Sunday.
Half of me wants to demand she stop. The other half is too enamored with the way the questions make Iris's cheeks flush and h
er eyes get dreamy. She thinks about it, about us being forever.
I think about it too. I can see it. The two of us on the beach, under an altar decked with purple flowers, proclaiming our love to the entire world.
Yeah, I think a lot about stripping her out of a tight, low-cut dress (hey, it's my fantasy), pinning her to the wall, and having my way with her.
But I think about the rest of it too. Calling her my wife. Seeing my ring on her finger every morning. Waking up and falling asleep next to her.
We're not ready for that—she's made it very clear she's waiting until she's done with school—but we'll be there. One day.
And after tonight…
"Baby?" Iris runs her fingers over my chin.
"You look gorgeous today. I say that yet?" I ask.
"A thousand times," Bree says. "But it's cute." She turns to Mom. "Aren't they adorable?"
Mom makes the hmmm noise. "Yes. But we're having dessert. Not dessert."
Dad chuckles.
Bree giggles through her words. "Oh my God, Mom. Did you just make a sex joke?"
Mom smiles maybe I did, maybe I didn't, then she's back to her usual all business poker face. "Your generation didn't discover sex."
Bree laughs.
I laugh too. "Feels like it sometimes."
Iris blushes. "I'm sorry, Jen."
Mom beams at Iris calling her by her first name. "It is sweet. But not at the dinner table."
Iris mouths sorry.
Dad chuckles. "Remember that weekend at your parents' place."
Mom turns to him. Her cheeks flush. She leans in to whisper.
Gross. My parents are talking about sex.
She regains her composure. "This is excellent coffee, Walker. Thanks for bringing it over."
"Sure thing," I say.
"Try it the right way." Iris offers her mug again. She raises a brow you okay?
I nod as I accept the cup. My plan for tonight is perfect. But it's getting closer. It's right after we leave. And, fuck, I'm not used to being this nervous.
I sip Iris's coffee. "This is sweeter than the pie." I hand it back.
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "That's the point."
"Is it?" I ask.