Page 17 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

I haven’t beentryingto be an asshole. I’m trying to protect myself. “I could do a pretzel.”

Iris’s eyes widen. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”

“Unless you were just being polite, in which case–”

“No, let’s go get a pretzel, that would be good. We can…catch up.”

I had no intentions of catching up with Iris during her stay in Chicago. Yet here I am, almost eager to spend a little more time with her, to draw back the curtain on the past six months.

I admit, I’m curious to find out if hers have been as hellish as mine. Not that I’d tell her I’ve missed her. Not after she hurt me the way she did.

We go to the food court, and each get a pretzel and a lemonade too because what’s a pretzel without a big gulp-size of lemonade?

We sit at a table across from each other.

It’s a bit too small, a bit too close for comfort. As I adjust in my seat, my knee brushes hers more than once, and my body reacts with a flare in my chest.

Stupid muscle memory.

“How long are you in town?” I pull off a bit of pretzel.

Iris licks some butter of her thumb. Her nails are decorated like presents, little red detailed ribbons and white stripes of wrapping paper. Adorable, as usual.

Dammit.

“I’m leaving on the twenty-seventh. We don’t get the time off between Christmas and New Year’s at the office, so–”

“That’s annoying.”

She shrugs. “We have to hit the ground running on development for our first project of the year.”

We fall into silence.

Chewing, swallowing, sipping. Asking questions is like touching a livewire. Dangerous. Could get shocked.

But my curiosity is overwhelming. I want to know if it was worth it. If exchanging us for her work is something she regrets or…not.

“You like it, then? The work?”

Iris puts down the next bit of pretzel she was about to eat. “I like it enough. They work us like dogs, but it’s great money and once I’m there for a year, I’ll be able to start pitching my ideas.”

Iris has great ideas for video games. She’s even developed a few indies herself.

I remember how she showed them to me after I begged her too. She was embarrassed, pointing out all the flaws, how if she had a bit more manpower she could have accomplished more.

I tried to tell her how impressed I was. How special her work was. Maybe she believed me enough to go after her dreams.

And she…deserves that.

“And you like Seattle?”

Iris tilts her head to the side. “Trevor, come on.”

“Come on what?”

She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering.

She doesn’t have any makeup on, except mascara, right now. That’s one thing she feels naked without. “I can’t help but feel you’re trying to play gotcha or something.”

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