Page 77 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

I hear Iris’s voice before I see her. “Thank you, Jeffrey.”

I grab the back of my desk chair, stunned. Completely and utterly stunned.

Did that Valentine’s bouquet really push her over the edge?

Iris enters my office. Her hair is a pastel purple now. Everything about her looks put together…yet, not at all.

Loose jeans with rips in the knees, a tight-fitting band T-shirt that has a smear of deodorant on the hem. She’s wearing a jacket that’s not warm enough for the weather, an oversized leather jacket.

I was with her when she thrifted that.

Also, she’s wearing makeup but it doesn’t cover up how tired she looks.

Iris folds her hands in front of her, looking smaller than ever.

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I just got in an hour ago.”

I have so many questions. “You want to sit?”

Iris nods.

I want to rush over to her, embrace her, throw her around in a circle, and kiss her until my lips fall off. But her distance scares me.

I suppose it’s possible she flew out here to tell me to back off once and for all.

That would kill me.

But I can’t get ahead of myself.

“You look…healthy.” I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by complimenting her when she’s not yet comfortable.

Iris’s eyes widen. Apparently, even that was too much.

“Please, sit.” I gesture to the seating area, a coffee table framed by leather armchairs and a matching couch.

“No, I just need to say what I came here to say first before I lose my nerve, um–” She runs a hand through her hair. “I kept a secret from you. A big one.”

I slide my hands into my pockets, unsure what to do with myself. “All right…”

“About my past.”

Unless she’s secretly a violent criminal, there’s nothing that could shock me to loving her any less. But I’ll hold my tongue until I know more.

“I told you that I left Texas after a bad breakup.”

“Yes. That’s not true?”

Iris winces, tightening her hands in fists and then releasing them again. “It is, it just was a bit more than a breakup. Um. It was a divorce.”

My brows lift. “You were divorced?”

“Are. I’ll never not be divorced.” She attempts a laugh.

“Why…why didn’t you tell me that?” I won’t lie, there’s a little pain knowing she was married before. Not because I need to be the first to stake my claim but because it feels different when you are both beginners at something versus one person having experienced it before.

Iris’s forehead puckers. “I was a different woman back then. A different girl. I mean, I was eighteen, Trevor.”

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