Page 2 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster) (Silver Foxes of Black Wolf’s Bluff #5)

Two

“ I t might be early, but I definitely need a drink.”

Scarlett didn’t argue, just nodded as they followed Adrian toward a booth at the back of Casa Blanca.

At least it was a Saturday. Iris didn’t have to go back to work after this; Ashley covered the evening and weekend shifts at the library, and they were closed on Sundays.

After what she’d just learned, she definitely wanted a margarita, food, and to go home and bury her head under the covers, in that order.

Kirk was getting remarried. They hadn’t even been divorced for three months.

Once they were settled in their seats and Adrian had gone to fill their drink orders, Scarlett reached across the table to take Iris’s hand. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.”

Iris shrugged, the casual move belying the anger churning inside of her.

She was grateful for her friend’s empathy.

“It isn’t your fault my ex is an asshole.

” Or that Scarlett had happened to run into the lovely couple in Wildwoods Brew this morning.

Kirk had taken the opportunity to make certain Scarlett knew of the impending nuptials, likely because he recognized that the news would travel to Iris forthwith.

They’d barely finished sorting and dividing their entire lives together—or she had, since Kirk, as usual, had left the emotional baggage for her to carry while he evidently carried on with something else—and now he was engaged to a woman twenty years younger than him?

Just the thought of dating had nausea tangling her stomach in knots.

But then, she imagined Kirk had been dating far longer than she even wanted to think about.

It was that thought that burst the bubble of her anger, sinking her back into the grief and exhaustion that had been her mainstay for the past few months.

Unlike him, she hadn’t had any forewarning of the divorce, or not any that she truly recognized.

She’d had to do all her working through of the emotions in the past six months instead. And God, was she tired of it all.

She sighed, rubbing at her aching eyes. “I just can’t believe it.”

When she dropped her hands, it was to face Scarlett’s stare, heavy with concern. That look made Iris squirm in her seat.

“It’s not that I want him back; you know that, right?

” Just the thought made her self-conscious.

Women shouldn’t miss cheaters, though whether Kirk had physically cheated on her or not, she had never been certain.

He’d said he wanted an open marriage; he’d never admitted to already seeing someone else, likely so he wouldn’t jeopardize the divorce settlement.

Not that that had helped him in any significant way.

They’d been married over two decades; she’d gotten half of literally everything.

“Of course you don’t want that bastard back,” Scarlett agreed.

“I do miss…” She focused on the table, her thumb tracing a scar in the worn wood.

Admitting she missed anything was hard, even with friends she knew wouldn’t judge her.

“I miss the man he used to be, the one who was by my side for so many years when the kids were young. This Kirk”—she waved a vague hand—“he’s a stranger.

I sat across the table from him that night and realized I didn’t know him at all. ”

The separation had been like tearing her flesh apart—how did you divide a lifetime of memories and connections and sheer stuff?

Selling the house had been one thing, but what was inside…

And of course Kirk hadn’t made a single damn decision.

She’d had to present him a list of things she wanted to take with her.

She’d had to decide how to equitably split things that were too small for the list, like kitchen utensils and pantry items. She’d had to divide up the photo albums and Christmas ornaments into hers, his, and their kids’.

The whole thing had been done in the three months it took to finalize the divorce. She’d spent the past three months dealing with the sorrow left behind, setting up her “new life,” getting some frigging sleep. But it didn’t matter how much she slept; she still felt tired.

“A midlife crisis does many a man in,” Scarlett was saying.

Iris snorted. Wasn’t that right?

The drinks arrived with perfect timing. Relief fizzled through her. “Thanks, Adrian.”

The waiter gave her a wink. “Let me know if you want a top up.”

Scarlett giggled as the young man walked away. “Is he a mind-reader?”

“Hopefully. He gets it from his mama.” Adrian was the son of Wildwood Brews’ owner, Maria.

Iris gripped her glass, raised it to touch Scarlett’s, and put on her bravest face.

“To Kirk not being my problem anymore.” The divorce may have been final three months ago, but having Kirk tied to another woman broke Iris’s ties to him in a way a piece of paper couldn’t really match.

She felt the separation deep inside, a finality nothing else had come close to touching.

Scarlett’s grin was sympathetic. “Amen to that. Freedom!”

Iris squared her shoulders and took a drink. Freedom was a bittersweet word, but one she was determined to embrace.

Adrian kept her glass refilled—maybe a little too well, Iris realized an hour later when she turned her head to thank him for taking her plate and the room spun. “Wow.”

Scarlett giggled. “What?”

“I think Abril is making the drinks stronger than usual for lunchtime.”

“Or maybe we’ve had a few too many.” Scarlett shrugged. “That’s okay; Gavin will come pick us up. He’s hanging with Carter and Thad over at Erin’s.”

Thad was out of school for the summer; she remembered that now. Had it really already been six months since Scarlett had met Gavin and been whisked off her feet? Sadness washed over Iris at the realization. She missed her best friend when she was away.

“Hey,” Scarlett whispered across the table. “No getting maudlin over there.”

Iris shook away the depression. “Why would you think I was getting ‘maudlin’?” Such a silly word. She was the one who giggled this time.

“Because I know you and that look on your face.”

She screwed said face into a funny expression aimed in her friend’s direction. “What look?”

“The maudlin look.”

That didn’t tell her anything. She rolled her eyes. “I—”

The trilling of Scarlett’s phone interrupted her. Iris recognized the ringtone that indicated the message was from Gavin. Scarlett glanced at the screen, and her cheeks took on a bright pink tone.

“What?”

Scarlett’s brows lifted, a laugh escaping her as she clicked on Gavin’s message. The laugh choked off as she read.

“Oh Lord.”

“What?” Iris asked again, her voice the slightest bit taunting. As if she didn’t know what. Only one thing would have Scarlett’s face turning that embarrassing shade of red.

Scarlett screwed her eyes shut for a moment before glancing at Iris. “It’s Gavin.”

“I know; I recognize the ringtone.”

A wry smile twisted Scarlett’s lips. “He’s feeling…” She seemed to search for just the right word, finally settling on, “Playful.”

Iris just bet he was. Melancholy curled through her.

“Hey.” Scarlett left her seat to come around to Iris’s side of the booth, forcing her to scoot farther in. Her friend placed a warm arm around her, and the relief of having someone comfort her, of not having to be the strong one right now, nearly did her in.

“What’s wrong?” Scarlett whispered, keeping their conversation just between the two of them.

“I’m tired, Scarlett. I’m just…” She wiped her hand over her wet eyes and wondered if this was what divorce did to women, made them emotional drunks.

“I’m just tired. I feel tired. Hell”—she gestured into the air vaguely—“I even look tired. I look in the mirror and wonder who that woman is staring back at me.”

It was as if she’d been unmoored after a quarter of a decade being tied securely in place, and now she didn’t know how to get herself back to safety. On the worst days, she didn’t feel like she had the strength to try.

Scarlett gave her shoulders a squeeze. Her friend looked at her, really looked, and Iris knew she was being seen. “Do you think this is a reaction to the news?”

“Kirk’s news?” When Scarlett nodded, Iris sighed.

“I don’t think so.” She’d been feeling this way for weeks.

She thought she’d finally gotten through the grief of having a part of her life cut off, but the aftermath wasn’t much better, at least when she allowed herself to acknowledge it.

Apparently alcohol broke down all the barriers she’d put up.

Scarlett bumped their shoulders together. “So hanging with me isn’t exciting enough to pull you out of the doldrums?”

Iris smiled, trying to hide the return of her sadness, still lingering inside. “‘Doldrums’? Do people really say ‘doldrums’?”

Scarlett shrugged. “Hey, words are my thing.”

They certainly were; Scarlett was a great writer. But getting back to Scarlett’s question… “When you’re here,” she admitted, hoping her lack of spite came through. The situation was what it was. “You spend as much time in Scotland as you do in Tennessee now.”

Scarlett sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because all of this hit at the same time.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” Just because Kirk had chosen to blow things up right before Christmas didn’t mean Scarlett should regret meeting Gavin. The Scotsman made her friend ecstatically happy. “The two of you are perfect together. That’s something to celebrate.”

“Oh, I do.” Scarlett grinned. “Gavin makes sure of it every time he gets me in bed.”

Iris barely refrained from wincing. Of all the things she missed about marriage, sex and the intimacy it provided were at the top of the list.

Scarlett gave her another hug, her mood turning serious once more. “I do wish I could be here for you more.”

“I miss you when you’re gone”—Iris squared her shoulders—“but I’m a big girl.”

Scarlett returned to her seat, and they ordered sopapillas to share. They were halfway through dessert when Scarlett narrowed her eyes on Iris in a way that had her once more squirming in her seat. “You know…”

Her friend’s tone had alarms going off in Iris’s brain. “Know what?”

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Dangerous,” Iris said into her margarita glass.

“Would you stop interrupting me?”

Iris giggled. Uh-oh. Maybe dessert hadn’t soaked up as much of the alcohol as she’d thought. Gavin was definitely going to need to pick them up.

“I was wondering,” Scarlett said, “how about a date? Maybe you need to get out more.”

Her knee-jerk reaction—aside from wanting to throw up—was, “Absolutely not. I have no desire to start dating for a long, long time.” Unlike Kirk.

“If ever,” she added. She still stumbled when she called him her ex.

Just because he was planning to jump from their marriage into another within six months didn’t mean she wanted to.

Sure, her life got lonely. She went from work at the library to her tiny apartment and back to work, with a stop at the store or a night out with the girls or lunch with her daughter as a rare schedule interrupter.

Routine had helped her adapt at first, but the monotony was starting to get to her.

That didn’t mean she wanted to add someone else to her mess.

“Why not?” Scarlett frowned. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious.”

“No.” She shuddered. “I haven’t dated in, what, twenty-three years?” Dates with Kirk didn’t count; she’d stopped her futile attempts to impress him years ago. Maybe if she hadn’t…

She slammed that thought down. What had happened had not been about her.

Scarlett was still frowning, but Iris was adamant on this point. No dating.

But when her friend opened her mouth, what came out was, “How about a makeover?”

“A makeover?”

“Yes!” Scarlett bounced in her seat as excitement fizzed up inside her, as visible as bubbles in a champagne glass.

“How you’re feeling goes deeper than something a new dress or a new pair of shoes could fix.

What you need is a new outlook. A new look.

” She raised her brow suggestively. “That’s exactly what you need.

A facial, a new brand of makeup, maybe some clothes, a haircut. ”

“My hair?” She fingered the ends of her below-shoulder-length, thick mane.

Though it was gray, she was lucky it hadn’t faded into that brassy tone some older women got.

Veins of pure white and a deep slate enriched the color, making her hair one of the few things she loved about herself at this stage of her life. “What about my hair?”

Scarlett’s excitement wasn’t waning, but her attention was. She waved off Iris’s concerns as she picked up her phone again and tapped to wake up the screen. “Don’t worry, Iris; we won’t ruin your hair.”

She hoped to God not. “So what are we going to do? And what do you mean, ‘we’?”

Scarlett paused in her typing. “That depends. Is that a yes?”

“Um…” Was it?

She paused, taking a deep look inside at how she’d felt the past few weeks.

Why not? What did she have to lose besides a day of pampering? She didn’t have to let them cut her hair if she decided not to. “Okay, yes.”

Scarlett let out a whoop, making Iris jump. “I’ve got just the thing.” She returned to texting.

By the time Scarlett set her phone back down, doubts were settling in. “Scarlett, I don’t know—”

The phone rang, cutting her off. Scarlett answered. “Lily? Yeah. Come over to Casa Blanca. Yeah, bring her.” She hung up. “Lily and Erin are on their way.”

Nerves fluttered in Iris’s throat. “To do what?”

“We’ve got plans to make.” Scarlett’s grin was downright giddy. “Are you ready?”

“God, no.” She smiled wryly. But she did want a change, didn’t she?

Scarlett was right: she needed a new outlook to go with her new life.

Maybe then she could grow her way out of this morass of grief.

If Scarlett and the others wanted to help, now was the time to go after it.

Time to put her big-girl panties on, so to speak.

“I will be ready, though. Let’s do this. ”