Chapter 103

I burst out laughing when I observe myself in the full-length mirror, twisting to take in the effect of the makeshift outfit that we’ve crafted for me.

“Christian, this is ridiculous!” I say, shaking my head at myself.

“No it’s not, you look great!” he says, standing behind me and grinning proudly at his handywork.

I roll my eyes, pulling the fisherman’s bucket hat down lower over my face. “I look insane,” I sigh. But I can’t help smiling a little bit at it, because I look hilarious – like a little kid dressing up in her dad’s clothes or something.

I’ve got one of Christian’s black t-shirts on, knotted up at the waist so that it doesn’t fall down past my butt and look like an insane dress. That’s fairly normal looking, but the shorts – they fall down past my knees, and we’ve had to use a clothes pin in the back to double-up the waistband and hold it shut. Otherwise, they’d fall right to the ground.

The hat is an attempt to cover up my bruised face, or at least draw attention from it – but honestly, I think most everyone is going to be looking at my feet in these insane men’s sandals, which make me flop around like a duck.

“For such a ladies’ man,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and glaring up at him a bit. “You’d think you’d have some women’s clothes in your vacation house.”

“We’ll buy you some today,” he murmurs, catching my chin in his hand and grinning down at me. “Whatever you want.”

“What clothes are we going to be able to get in a little beach town!?” I protest, throwing my hands out.

“Cool ones,” he murmurs, and then he drops a kiss to my cheek and strides for the door. “Really beachy, like a surfer. Come on! I’m hungry!”

I sigh and start after him, my shoes slapping elaborately on the floor as I go. And I burst out laughing, because it’s just so ridiculous…but also, kind of fun.

My spirits continue to be high as we drive into the little town, which isn’t far away at all. There isn’t much here – just a supermarket, and a little shop that has some souvenirs. A hardware store, café, and post office round out the collection. I grin as we pull into a parking lot in the center square because everything is very charming and cute.

“I’ll get coffee,” Christian murmurs, lifting his chin towards the café. “You go get some normal shoes,” he says, pointing to the souvenir shop. I laugh but do as I’m told, taking a wad of cash from his hand and going into the little mom-and-pop shop where I make their day by spending a great deal of money on unseasonable women’s clothing and shoes.

The woman who runs the store gives me a tentative smile as she rings me up, looking askance at my bruised and battered face, but I smile so cheerfully at her that I think she just lets it go. Before I leave, I take a moment to exchange Christian’s ridiculously large shoes for my new pink jelly sandals, and then I’m out the door, a wide grin on my face.

“Nice,” Chrisitan says, smiling at me as he holds out a coffee and looks down at my new shoes, that squeak a bit with every step.

“You like?” I ask, laughing and turning my foot so he can see all the glory of the sunflowers printed on the strap as I take my coffee from him. Christian just laughs and affirms that he does before we put my bags into the car and head into the tiny supermarket.

Inside, the pickings are slim, but there’s enough raw ingredients here that I know I’ll be able to whip up something good. “Um,” I say, glancing up at Christian as I pause with my hand out over the meat selection. “How long are we…planning to stay here?”

“Stock up,” he says, oversimplifying it as he reaches for some ground beef and puts it into his basket as well. I nod, accepting the cagey answer for what it is and beginning to fill my basket. We don’t go overboard – it’s not like the town is far – but still, we get enough supplies to feed both of us for a few days.

I’m quite happy about that because my stomach growls as we climb back into the car and start the drive back to the house. Christian puts the radio on and rolls down the windows a crack, and I smile and raise my noise to the salty air. The wind is brisk and cool, but it’s a warmer day than it should be for this time of year, and honestly it feels great.

It all feels great. I take a moment to glance over at Christian, whose mouth moves along with the words to the song, and I smile, thinking that even if this is a vacation – a brief respite from the very real realities of our life?

Well…that it’s kind of great. Honestly, I’m not sure I could be happier than I am right now, alone with him, heading back to our little beach cottage where I can whip up something for breakfast and make a pot of coffee.

Of course, that happiness all fades away in an instant when we pull down the long hidden driveway to the cottage and see another car parked next to the steps to the cabin.

I gasp and Christian immediately tenses, slamming on the brakes in the same second that he whips a hand out towards me, pressing his palm protectively against my chest. But then he groans, and drops his hand, his eyes landing on the figure standing on the porch steps at the same second that mine do.

“Ohhh no,” I sigh, my head falling back on my neck as I take in the way that Nico is standing, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet wide apart, shaking his head as he glares at us through the windshield.

Because it is very, very clear that he is pissed.

And Nico – he’s so annoying when he’s pissed.

“Well, I guess the location of the cottage is compromised,” Christian murmurs, slowly driving the car to park next to Nico’s, sounding angry and confused.

“Nico didn’t know this was here?” I ask, surprised, as we come to a stop and I begin to unbuckle my belt.

“When I say no one knew about this place, Iris?” Christian responds, taking a moment to look at me seriously. “I mean no one.”

I sigh, shrugging, clearly implying that we’re not going to get to the bottom of anything if we just stay in the car. He nods, agreeing, and together we step out of the car, both turning to where Nico is still standing on the porch, still glaring at us.

He doesn’t say a word, just stands tensed, his arms crossed.

And something about that – about the high-and-mighty way that he’s glaring at me like this is all my fault, flicks a switch.

“Hey, Nico!” I call, my face bursting into a too-sweet smile, my voice saccharine. “It’s so nice to see you! I’m so glad you came for a little visit! Do you want some saltwater taffy!?”

“Cut the shit, Iris,” Nico snaps, moving his eyes to Christian as he moves around the car to stand by my side. “You two are in deep shit, and so am I now.”

“Why are you in deep shit?” I ask, my face falling into more serious lines.

“Because,” he bites out, glaring singularly at Chris now. “I didn’t rat you out immediately to your father, which I probably should have done.”

I glance up at Christian, anxious now that I see his jaw tightening.

Because we both hear the threat in Nico’s words.

That he still could, if he wanted to.