Page 33 of Getting Lucky

“Give him time,” Maisie said. Truth be told, the only thing Iris could do to get Jack to back off was to be happy. But she wasn’t going to say that. Iris was too young to be burdened with that responsibility.

They were mostly quiet for the rest of the trip, although Iris surprised Maisie by asking some questions about a couple of the dogs. Chewie and the black lab she’d played with first, Pete.

“Do you think I could really help train them?” she asked as Maisie pulled into the drive.

“I do.” Maisie shot a glance at her. “I didn’t have a dog of my own until I was almost twenty, and I learned pretty quickly. You’re a quick study. You’ll learn too.”

Iris glanced at the house. “Please don’t tell Jack what I said to you. About my dad, I mean. He doesn’t know.”

Maisie mimed zipping her lips. “In the vault. And yes, I know I’m mixing metaphors. But that’s how serious I am about keeping it quiet.”

Iris nodded and then got out, heading for the door.

It came as no surprise at all when it popped open before she could get there, Jack peeking his head out like—

She stifled a laugh. Like a freaking jack-in-the-box. Probably he’d been waiting on the nearest couch the whole time Iris had been gone.

“See?” she called out, following Iris. “I told you I’d bring her back in one piece.”

He glanced up at her, gratitude in his gaze, and something more—the same something more she saw whenever he looked at her—but then his attention shifted totally to Iris.

Helicopter Brother, reporting for duty,she thought to herself.

There was something so endearing about his concern, about this big, strong man who’d taken it upon himself to be both mother and father to his little sister. But if Jack was having problems connecting with Iris, he was taking the worst possible approach.

She didn’t feel she could tell him that, though. Not yet, anyway.

“How was it?” he asked, hovering. “Did any of the dogs jump on you or bite you?”

Iris heaved a sigh and made her way through the door. Jack looked like he wanted to follow at her heels like a herding dog, but he held back and waved Maisie through. When she passed, she felt a whisper of his hand on the small of her back, there and then gone. It sent a pulse of heat through her, but she just stepped aside so he could pass her.

Iris turned to look at him. “I’m going to volunteer at the shelter on Tuesday afternoons too,” she said. A defiant look crossed her face. “Maisie said I could.”

“Sure,” he said with a slightly baffled look. “That’s great. Yeah.”

“I have homework to do.” She pushed past him, leaving him with a slightly lost look.

Adalia emerged at the top of the stairs, looking fresh and pretty in a bright turquoise shirt and a bohemian skirt. Maisie probably should have changed, but it wasn’t like Adalia and Blue weren’t used to her stinking of dog. Besides, she didn’t regret bringing Iris home. She’d learned so much more about her, and about Jack.

Iris edged over to the far end of the stairs, like Adalia might have cooties.

“Do you want to make dinner with me tonight?” Jack asked her. “I thought we could cook together, like we used to.”

“No, thanks,” Iris said, in that careless way teens had about them, like she didn’t know she was being cruel or maybe didn’t care. “There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, and I’m going to video-chat with Janie.”

“I’m glad you girls are still so close,” Jack said hesitantly, “but aren’t there some friends you’d like to hang out with in Asheville?”

Iris laughed, actually laughed, and then said, “Areyougivingmesocial advice?”

And then she was gone in a thunder of steps.

The look on Jack’s face…

Maisie wanted to say she’d cook dinner with him, gladly, especially if his cooking was anything like his bartending. But she already had plans, and she wasn’t the kind of person who canceled on someone lightly. Besides, she’d promised Finn that she would tell Adalia and Blue about River, and she intended to go through with it. Maybe Adalia could help her figure out how many wedding-related activities a co-best man could feasibly shrug off.

But Adalia reached the bottom of the steps and slung an arm around Jack’s shoulders as Tyrion, appearing from the kitchen, danced around them.

“Cheer up, Jacques,” she said, a nickname she’d appropriated for him after finding out that his grandmother had been a French immigrant. “She’ll come around. In the meantime, why don’t you come out with us?” She glanced at Maisie, who was wrestling with how she felt about this development—on the one hand, she’d wanted to have that heart-to-heart with Adalia and Blue, but on the other…

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