Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(6)



Iris pulled a face at her. “Nicole.”

“Yes, Nicole,” Claire said, her voice lighter than she felt. “She was hot, right?” And god she was. Silky hair, long legs she used to slide around Claire’s hips in a way that made Claire—

She clenched her thighs together at the memory. God, it had been too long.

“Um, sure, yes, gorgeous,” Iris said gently. She knew how much Nicole leaving her had stung. “And that was two years ago. Two, Claire. You haven’t”—she shook her boobs a little, and there was plenty there to shake—“in two whole years?”

“Oh please, no one has time for sex, Ris” was her brilliant retort.

Iris gave her an oh you poor thing kind of look. “That is absolutely not true, and you know it. I have sex all the time.”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“And you have a vibrator.”

She lifted her empty glass in salute. “That I damn well do.”

“And it’s very, very tired.”

Claire laughed but couldn’t deny it. She’d had to charge her vibrator’s battery at least twice in the past month.

Iris clinked their glasses together, and Claire emptied her lungs for the first time all evening. Ever since Josh had shown up back in town two months ago—swearing that he was staying this time, that he was starting a construction business instead of just picking up odd jobs with his friend Holden’s building company he could easily walk away from, that he really wanted to be there for Ruby—she’d been on edge.

And with Astrid spinning like a top out of control lately, her wedding to Spencer looming like a dark cloud on the horizon . . . well, let’s just say Claire was due a few drinks.

“How’s it going?” Iris asked, reading her mind like always. “With Josh?”

Claire shrugged. “Ruby adores him.”

“And we’ll leave it at that?”

Claire blew out a long breath. Josh was the father of her child, and she’d always love him. But goddammit, if he got Ruby’s hopes up one more time just to vanish on her again, she’d kill him. Like, literally kill him. Slow and painful. She’d had enough unreliable people in her life, and she didn’t want Ruby growing up with the same ghosts.

She checked her phone. Other than the time and a picture of her daughter’s smiling face, the screen was blank. No texts from Josh. Her vision swam just enough that she knew one more drink would turn her sloppy, and she couldn’t do that in front of Josh. He’d never use it against her—at least she didn’t think—but she was trying to set a good parenting example here.

“I should go,” she said.

“What about your distraction?”

She waved a hand. “It can wait.”

“Astrid isn’t even here yet.”

Claire rubbed her temples, everything in her life coalescing into a headache behind her eyes. “I want to check on Ruby over at Josh’s before she goes to bed.”

“Check on Josh, you mean.”

“Can you blame me?”

Iris shook her head. “And I never will. You know that, right?”

Claire pulled some cash from her wallet. “I do.”

“I love your sex-deprived ass.”

Claire laughed. “You better.”

“Forever and ever.” She reached out and stilled Claire’s hand on her wallet. “So let’s take this slow.”

“Take what slow?”

“Dating. Finding someone you like.”

“Okay,” Claire said carefully. “What do you—”

“One number. That’s it. Just get someone’s phone number tonight and go from there.”

Claire’s shoulders immediately curled around her neck. Everyone she’d ever been with, she’d met organically. Josh was her high school boyfriend. Nicole was a local author who wrote vegan cookbooks and had come into the bookstore to sign her latest on plant-based desserts. Claire handled the signing, they started talking, and that was that. Iris had set up Claire with Nathan. She’d never picked up someone in a bar, but having watched Iris do it at least a dozen times since high school, she’d always wondered what it was like, the thrill and excitement.

Claire forced herself to relax. This was why she’d come out tonight, after all. She wanted . . . something. Needed someone—even it was just the possibility of someone—to make sure she didn’t fall back into bad habits with Josh. She wasn’t in love with him; she knew that. But her body got stupid around him. Always had.

That didn’t change the fact that the idea of walking up to some stranger and essentially saying How you doing? made her feel like she needed to puke.

“Starting tomorrow,” Iris said, sensing her impending freak-out, “we’re locked into a solid two weeks of wedding tomfoolery.”

“Tomfoolery?”

Iris ignored her. “I’m talking brunches, lace doilies, manicures, and a sexless bachelorette party.”

Claire laughed, remembering how Astrid had strictly forbidden anything phallic at her last hurrah. No penis straws, no penis cakes, and absolutely no dildos. Iris was hugely disappointed.

“Not to mention,” Iris said, lowering her voice and leaning forward, “we’ve got to have the big t-a-l-k with Astrid, for which she’ll probably hate us for the rest of her life.”

Ashley Herring Blake's Books