Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I push the thoughts away.
That life is behind me now.
I have too much to lose.
"They can think what they want," I say, my tone growing serious. "All that matters to me is right here in this room."
Iris's expression softens, and she sets her mug down next to mine.
She turns to face me fully, her dark eyes searching mine. "You really mean that, don't you?"
I cup her face in my hands, marveling at how delicate she feels despite her tough exterior. "Every word, sweetheart. You and Allegra, you're my world now."
A shadow passes over her face at the mention of my daughter, but she doesn't pull away.
Instead, she leans in, pressing her forehead against mine. "I wish things were different with her. I miss her."
I sigh, running my thumb along Iris's cheekbone. "I know, baby. I do too. But we've got to give her time. She'll come around eventually. I did text her and let her know that you're not living in the apartment I got for the two of you, and that she's free to stay there whenever she'd like to come back in town. I'm sure everything will be okay, Iris."
Iris nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes.
I wish I could erase it, make everything perfect for her.
But life's never that simple, especially not for people like us.
"Hey," I say, tilting her chin up so she meets my gaze. "Let's not think about that right now, okay? It's Christmas Eve. We should be celebrating."
A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "You're right. I'm sorry for bringing the mood down."
I shake my head, brushing my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. "Nothing to be sorry for. Your feelings are always valid with me, Iris. Never forget that."
She deepens the kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair.
When we finally break apart, we're both a little breathless.
"So," she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. "How should we celebrate?"
I grin, pulling her onto my lap. "Well, I can think of a few ways..."
Iris laughs, playfully swatting at my chest. "Down, boy. I was thinking more along the lines of a Christmas movie or something."
I groan dramatically, flopping back against the couch cushions. "You're killing me, woman. Fine, what did you have in mind?"
She hops up, practically bouncing with excitement as she moves to the entertainment center. "How do you feel about 'Die Hard'?"
I can't help but laugh. "A woman after my own heart. You sure you don't want something more... traditionally Christmas-y?"
Iris turns to me, hands on her hips.
The firelight casts a warm glow on her skin, making her tattoos seem to shimmer and move. "Vincent Beckett, are you trying to tell me that 'Die Hard' isn't a Christmas movie?"
I hold up my hands in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart. Turn it on."
As she busies herself with setting up the movie, I take a moment to really look at her.
The way she moves with such grace and confidence, the little furrow of concentration between her brows as she fiddles with the remote.
I still can't believe she's here, that she chose me despite everything in my past.
Iris settles back onto the couch, curling into my side as the opening credits start to roll.
I wrap my arm around her, pulling the throw blanket over both of us.
"This okay?" she asks, glancing up at me.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. "It's perfect."
As John McClane's adventure begins on screen, I find my attention drifting.
Not to the past, or to worries about the future, but to the present moment.
The warmth of Iris against me, the soft crackle of the fire, the twinkling lights on the tree.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel at peace.
"Hey Iris?" I murmur, not wanting to disturb the moment too much.
"Hmm?" she responds, her eyes still fixed on the screen.
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
She snuggles closer, intertwining her fingers with mine. "Merry Christmas, Viper."
As the movie plays on, I allow myself to imagine a future filled with more moments like this.
Quiet evenings by the fire, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, family dinners with Allegra.
It's a dangerous thing, hope.
But looking at Iris, feeling the steady beat of her heart against my chest, I can't help but believe that maybe, just maybe, I've found my shot at redemption.
The fire continues to crackle, casting its warm glow over us.
Iris shifts slightly, her dark eyes turning to meet mine.
The flickering firelight dances across her face, highlighting the delicate tattoos that adorn her skin.
She bites her lower lip, a telltale sign that something's on her mind.
"Viper," she says, her voice soft but tinged with concern, "have you heard anything from Allegra? I've been trying to reach her, but..." She trails off, her brow furrowing.
I feel a pang in my chest at the mention of my daughter.