Page 28 of Kissed By Shadows

Iris watches him go, a furrow between her delicate brows. Maybe she sees the toll it takes to be a leader, the way he’s always looking out for others and very rarely himself.

“Let’s finish lunch, then we can watch that film,” Roman says to Iris, and she glances from the door to my brother.

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asks, her eyes shining with what looks like hope.

“Nothing that can’t keep,” he tells her, and I watch as the small smile transforms her face into something breathtaking. My chest burns, because I want to make her smile like that. “And there’s still the small matter of the rest of my meal.” Her cheeks blaze then, her pulse thrashing in her neck letting me know that he’s definitely flirting with her.

“I’ll join you if you like?” I blurt, ignoring the way my brother’s lips twitch into a grin. Her head snaps up to me, her smile widening.

“You will? I’d love that,” she replies, and the burn in my torso turns into a raging inferno, but one that fills my limbs, making me feel lighter than I have in a long while.

“FIND YOU” BY RUELLE

IRIS

I change into a fresh pair of knickers and harems, the twins and I spending the rest of the afternoon watching films and getting to know more about each other. They’re really interested in my time at Wyndham’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, Roman teasing me about being in a dorm full of girls and asking all kinds of inappropriate questions that leaves me, as usual, blushing. I’m not sure why they are so fascinated, it was several years of deportment lessons, making tea, and make-up lessons. The only highlight was the art and textile classes, where I learnt how to knit and developed a love of all things yarn related.

They’re pretty quiet about themselves, especially their childhood, glossing over what it was like before moving onto the estate and not really going into too much detail about living with the Jones’; the family that took them in from the age of ten. They do have me in stitches, telling me all about the shenanigans they and Hunter got up to on the estate, though I still get the feeling that I’m not getting the full picture. That there’s so much more darkness, their omission speaking volumes.

Roman is definitely the more outgoing one, his energy not unlike a golden retriever puppy, all bouncy and sunshine. He’s constantly touching me in some small way, teasing me, and he seems to take great delight in causing my cheeks to burn at every opportunity, the bastard.

Rowan is more like a cat, sitting there, watching, waiting. Though he doesn’t isolate himself, sitting next to me the entire time, his hand reaching out and capturing mine in a cool grip. I don’t pull away, instead interlacing my fingers with his, enjoying the way the simple touch brings me comfort.

I’d never really thought about it before, but my father and I were close, hugged all the time. I missed the casual affection when I went to finishing school. A couple of the girls were my friends, but nothing close to what I had with a girl called Ember back in grammar school. We were inseparable, though grew apart when I was sent off to learn how to be a lady and she got to go to a normal college. I really must get back in touch with her.

The smell of cooking draws us to the kitchen, finding Hunter dishing up a creamy pasta dish that has my mouth salivating.

“That smells amazing,” I say, walking over to the island and looking into the pasta bowls as fragrant steam wafts from them. Sitting down, I take a huge inhale, the delicious smell practically giving me an orgasm.

“It’s just carbonara,” he tells me, but a smile plays around his lush lips.

Scoffing, I pull a bowl towards me, grabbing a fork before twirling some of the spaghetti and bringing it to my lips. I blow on it, Hunt’s sharp exhale drawing my attention as I open my mouth and place the pasta inside, my eyes captivated by his green ones.

“Oh my god, Hunt,” I groan as the creamy garlic flavour bursts on my tongue, my eyelids fluttering. “This is better than the carbonara I had when I was in Naples last year.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks as he places the last of the spaghetti into a bowl, then rinses the pan before loading it into the dishwasher. The twins come up to me, sitting on either side of me, leaving the chair at the end for Hunter.

My brows furrow, and I glance at the table, seeing the four chairs around the circular wooden top. If we sat there, it would mean I could see all of them.

“Can we sit at the table?” I ask, and everyone pauses. “It just seems more…friendly?”

“If you wanted us to be more friendly, Princess, you just needed to ask.” Roman grins while waggling his eyebrows at me and I roll my eyes.

“Please?” I ask, not sure why it feels so important to sit at the round table, but it does. Maybe I’m craving that closeness that I’ve lost with my father. We used to eat meals together all the time, laughing and enjoying each other’s company as we ate. My chest goes tight at the thought of another thing I won’t be doing with him anytime soon, if ever. Would I even want to now? After what he did, how does one forgive their parent for selling them off like a piece of furniture?

Rowan grabs a bowl, picking up mine and taking it over to the table without a word, then coming back for our water glasses. I give him a small smile before getting out of my seat and walking over to the table, my grin growing when he pulls out my chair and ushers me into it.

“Thank you, Rowan,” I say softly, beaming when Roman and Hunter join us, Roman on my other side and Hunt across from me. “This is much better.”

Hunter huffs as he sits down, but my breath catches when moments later, a sock-covered foot starts playing with mine under the table. It’s coming from right in front of me, and the only person it could belong to is Hunter, his face blank as his toes drag along my arch. Taking a shaky inhale, I reach for myglass as I bring my foot up his calf, stroking up and down. He coughs into his bowl, and I have to bite my lip to stop the giggle from escaping and revealing our secret game.

I keep mostly silent as they talk about the plan for tonight and what else needs to be done for the club night they’re organising next weekend. It sounds awesome, and apparently Roman is a bit of a DJ so he will be doing the music. I’m determined to go, but won’t push it yet. If I learned nothing else at Wyndham’s, it was that sometimes a man needs time to come around to an idea. Even better if you can make him think it was his idea all along. Yep, they were big into how we can use our womanly wiles to manipulate, and as men seem to have been using their masculine dominance over me for the past few days, I’m not above some retaliation.

Soon, our bowls are empty and our bellies full, Hunter’s foot giving mine a final caress before he gets up and reaches over to take my bowl, then walks back to the dishwasher. I’ve noticed that he’s super tidy and organised. I can’t wait until he sees all my knitting projects spread across the house. I’m what my father called a ‘wafting creative,’ not so organised chaos, and Hunter is not ready for the explosion that is going to happen tomorrow when all my parcels arrive and I can really get creative.

“I really should do something. I can’t just have you guys wait on me hand and foot all the time,” I tell them, earning the curious gazes of all three guys.

“I can get you a maid’s outfit and feather duster if you like?” Roman offers, face serious and tone deadpan. “My bedroom is in need of a clean.”

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