Page 31 of Someone to Tempt
I clear my throat. Although my gaze remains straight ahead, I feel deep in my bones the moment she realizes it. A shiver passes through her.
“You and my brother keep in touch?” There’s a hint of condemnation in her voice.
“It’s been a couple of years, but the last time I saw him, he asked for help. I gave it to him.”
“I guess we’re both idiots.”
“You’re not an idiot, Iris. You want to take care of your brother. I wanted to help, too.”
“Then you shouldn’t have let him take the fall for something you did. That’s how it all started. He wouldn’t have gone to that camp and been subjected to the abuse he suffered. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so messed up.”
I want to argue that Nick was troubled before I came into his life, but I don’t disagree with her about where the blame lies. It might not be factually accurate, but if the false narrative gives her some hope and comfort, I’m okay with being painted as the villain.
“I’m sorry for what happened to him, which is why I paid for rehab. I also offered to pay for school if he could stay clean.”
“Right. It’s so easy for your family to throw around money. Being rich solves everything for the Byrnes.” Her voice trembles.
“Hardly,” I whisper. I follow her to a brick duplex’s front door and reach for her, frustration pounding through me at seeing her earlier exuberance so dimmed. “Come on, Iris. You know?—”
She rounds on me, swatting my hand away. “I don’t give a crap about some house I imagined myself living in when I was a kid. I’m not setting down roots in Skylark. I have bigger plans, Jake. I’m not the same girl I used to be.”
She bites down on her lower lip, and I hate the pain I imagine she’s causing herself. I hate the pain I’ve caused her.
“I know. You’re a thousand times smarter and stronger. I was a dick back then, and I’m sorry for what happened to Nick. For not protecting him. And for letting you down.”
“Am I supposed to believe you’re not a dick anymore?”
The question is posed so matter-of-factly, I nearly laugh. “Not as much of one.”
Her shoulders relax at my answer, which feels like a win at this point. She unlocks the door and steps inside, gesturing for me to follow. Given that I half expected her to slam it in my face, I don’t have to be asked twice. Or even once.
A lamp glows on an end table in a modest living room with art prints on the wall and a stylish gray sofa with a couple of mismatched throw pillows. There’s a lived-in warmth to the uncluttered space, which seems fitting for Iris, who turns to face me.
“What are you doing here, Jake?”
“I didn’t want you to walk?—”
“Why are you in Skylark vying to take over your grandfather’s foundation?”
My back is to the front door I’ve just closed. A draft seeps through, the whisper of cold air that sneaks through my thick flannel somehow unsettling. It makes me feel exposed, a reminder that I can’t let my guard down. Only, I want to with Iris. She doesn’t let just anyone in, figuratively or literally I’d guess. I want to see her softer side and entrust my secrets with her.
“It’s a family foundation,” I remind her. “I’ve gotten involved with some of the charities we support out of the satellite office in Austin. The work is…gratifying, to say the least. Mikey would have loved it. He would have been the obvious successor. Maybe I’m doing this as a way to honor his memory.”
Maybe I’ve lived half my life trying to assuage the guilt of not being able to save him.
I wait for her to laugh in my face like my mother did when I told her about my plan. Like most everyone who’s known me for any length of time would. I haven’t given the world much reason to believe I’ve grown up from the smart-mouthed kid trying to shirk responsibility at every turn.
I feel raw under her scrutiny even as the urge to sway toward her hits me like a wave. I don’t know how anyone resists her pull, fun or not.
“You can’t know what your brother would have done with his life,” she says. “From what you told me years ago, he wanted to write books.”
I shift and look away, not wanting her to guess the truth of what I really do these days. She always saw me way too clearly. “He loved reading and storytelling. Escaping with books until he found other ways to escape. Ways that caused a lot more harm than good.”
She draws in a sharp breath. “Just like Nick.”
“You understand why I need to do this, Iris. I have a plan.” Excitement courses through me as I think about the possibilities. “I want to develop the property the foundation owns in the foothills into a camp and retreat center. A place that could really help people, not the wilderness camp hellhole where Nick and I ended up.”
“Have you told your grandfather?”
