The Homecoming (Thunder Point #6)(29)

Something about a glass of wine and thinking about the situation that way brought peace of mind, even though she had no idea where all this might be headed.

Two salads and a basket of bread arrived. Iris passed the basket to Troy. “Showing up here tonight, not knowing what was going to happen, not knowing where the surprise gifts had come from, was very uncomfortable for me,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t invite him,” Troy replied.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Listen to me, please. I’m a pretty sure-footed woman. If my feelings for you change or grow, I’m capable of telling you so. I wouldn’t hesitate to call you or ask you out. I know how to be direct. The truth is, I love you like a brother.”

He leaned close and whispered, “You have done unspeakable things with your brother!”

She couldn’t suppress a laugh and covered her mouth. “Give me a break here, Troy—I was trying! I wanted to fall for you! You’re the most wonderful guy I know.”

He buttered a piece of bread. “So, it just wasn’t that good for you, is that it?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. It was wonderful. It wasn’t love. It was hard to give up. Now stop screwing with me—you’re only thirty, you’re gorgeous, you’re fun, you’ve had plenty of relationships that didn’t last forever and you probably ended the majority of them. Not because there was anything wrong with the girls but because it just wasn’t everything. In fact, I bet you ended a lot of relationships because she was way more into you than you were into her, and you can’t let that happen. That’s dishonest. Wrong.”

“That’s it, then?”

“Troy, what would you suggest?”

“We could keep going, see if it becomes better than perfect, because to me it was pretty perfect....”

“I don’t want that with you,” she said.

“Why not?”

She put down her fork. “Because I really care about you, that’s why. Because I really want to have you in my life for a long time. Friends with benefits?” She shook her head. “I’m not saying I’m too good for that sort of thing. But I wouldn’t do that with you, Troy. I wouldn’t use you like that. Not if I hope to have you as a good friend forever.”

“I’m available to be used,” he said.

She smiled at him. He was joking, she knew. She hoped.

“No,” she said.

“Could you do that with him? Seth?”

She shook her head. “Never,” she said. “I’d like to be your friend, but if we can’t, we can’t. Please say we can.”

“We can,” he said. “It would be easier without Deputy Dawg around, showing off.”

She laughed again and concentrated on her salad. “Can I keep the scarf? I love the scarf.”

“You could give me a lot of gifts,” he suggested. “I’d be much more gracious.”

They got back to their comfort zone, joking, laughing together, though Iris knew nothing would change his feelings. At least not right away.

They ordered crab cakes and while Iris really wanted to know what was happening with Seth, she didn’t say so.

It was at least half an hour before Seth came back into the restaurant, holding a cloth-encased ice cube to his lower lip. The patrons clapped for him and he gave them a slight nod but went straight to Iris and Troy’s table. A fresh beer was delivered and his old, warm and now stale beer removed.

“Let me see it,” Iris said. He lowered the ice cube. “Ew. Ouch,” she said.

“I’ve been slugged more since I came back to Thunder Point than in the past five years. In fact, I’ve been slugged more when I’m with you than at any other time.”

“Really, I had nothing to do with the bar brawl,” she said in her own defense. “You might need a stitch or two there.”

“Seriously,” Troy said. “You should go to an E.R. or something.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, taking a drink from his cold beer. He winced.

“In fact, you might want a plastic surgeon to look at that,” Iris suggested.

“Why?”

“It could leave a miserable scar,” she said.

He put down his beer and stared at her. “Iris, I have a three-inch scar on my cheek. What difference is it going to make?”

“Well, that scar really doesn’t look too bad, you know. It’s kind of, I don’t know, manly or something.”

He raised one eyebrow at her.

“I think it’s ugly. You should get someone to look at it,” Troy said. “It could put off women.”

“Nonsense,” Iris disagreed. “But, like with tattoos, you can go too far.”

“Don’t you like tattoos?” Seth asked.

“Oh, the right tattoo in the right place works for me,” she said. “But when a person starts to look like a comic book, it’s a little too much. Don’t you think?”

He smiled but only slightly. “I have no real opinion about tattoos, unless they’re prison tats. It comes in handy to know one when you see one.”

“How long have you been a police officer?” Troy asked.

“Seven years.”

“I thought it was longer,” Iris said.