“Iris needs her afternoon meds,” she says finally, voice like honey. It’s even better than on the phone. “She needs quiet.”
“No, I do not,” the old lady huffs, appearing behind the nurse. She’s got her walker and sun hat on, though she looks like she’s still dressed in her pyjamas. “Anyway, I don’t want that damn chicken meal. Let’s go get real food. Break me out of here, baby.”
I chuckle, glancing down at Imogen again. “She’ll just go on her own, and you know it,” I murmur. “So, why not come with us? Make sure she gets her meds. And I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
The nurse chews the inside of her cheek as she considers it. Those dark eyes don’t leave mine, and although I should feel a little intimidated by her—clearly, she respects her work and Iris—I can’t help but feel a little turned on by her. Could be the scrubs, which might be baggy and not so flattering, but she makes them work. Or it could be because she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
After a long moment, she sighs. “Alright, Miss Iris,” she says, turning to the old lady. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed she doesn’t say anything to me. “Before we go, I have to make sure you’re warm enough. Like you said: it’s getting colder. We have to make sure you don’t catch anything.”
Iris waves a hand, but there’s a grin on her lips that’s hard to ignore. Knowing I can bring her a little joy like a breakout is enough for me.
But hey, meeting her new nurse is fun, too.
“You glaringat us is getting old,” I say, pointing my knife at Iris. “Leave it alone.”
Imogen, sitting in her scrubs beside her, watches us with confusion. “She’s not doing anything. Have you had your eyes checked lately?”
I snort, though that has Iris smiling again. “The old wench is plotting.”
Nurse Imogen goes to say something, but Iris waves her hand. “He’s not wrong,” she laughs. “I may be plotting something.”
“Well,” Imogen says, “leave me out of it.”
I snort, though my stomach clenches when I glance back at Iris. She has that look about her that screamstrouble. Legend has it, she caused quite a bit of it in her early days at the bar. Especially during her stint as the town’s very ownCupid.
Now, I don’t know much about it, because everyone I’ve asked shuts up immediately. Sure, there are some who like to share how Iris meddled in their relationships, but no one will admithow.
Granted, I’m not sure how many people want to admit to having their relationships decided by the bartender down the road. Definitely not Easton and Rebecca Wiley, my older brother Walter’s best friend, who Iknowhad Iris’s meddling fingers in their love life.
“I want to ask you both to do something for me,” she announces, putting her spoon down, pasta left untouched. I lower my knife to my nearly empty plate, as does Imogen, her salad all but forgotten.
The nurse narrows her eyes. “Is there something wrong?” she asks, crossing her arms above the table. “Are you feeling alright?”
I roll my eyes when Iris nods. “Oh, I’m fine, dear,” she says, pressing her hands together. They tremble slightly, though she doesn’t seem to notice. “This is something I don’t want to entrust to just anyone.”
“Okay.” I lean back, crossing my arms. “What is it?”
Iris shoots me an unimpressed look, one that tells me not to ruin her moment. I’m used to it, but nurse Imogen looks confused—and maybe a little bit too worried.
“I want you—both of you, no bowing out—to plan my funeral.” Iris entwines her fingers, plants her elbows on the table, and looks at the both of us with this sweet, mischievous look as she rests her chin on her hands. “It’s my only wish.”
I can’t read the look in Imogen’s eyes, but I can tell she’s not fond of the idea. “Well, Iris, I don’t know—” she starts, but is quickly cut off.
“It’s the only thing I ask of you,” Iris replies, lips pursing. She eyes down the new nurse with a look most locals know to avoid.
Nurse Imogen looks between Iris and me, her brows furrowing. Somehow, she settles her irritation on me. I won’t lie, she’s pretty cute when she’s annoyed. There’s a little scrunch to her nose, and the flush of her cheeks darkens.
“Don’t you have anything to say about this?” she asks, leaning back.
I offer her a half smile. “Nope. I know my place.”
Iris grunts, dropping her hands to the table. “That he does.” Her eyes flicker over the restaurant before landing on a group of women towards the back. “I’ll be right back,” she says, pushing her chair out slowly. “Someone I need to see.”
Imogen also tries to push her chair out, the good nurse she is, but Iris waves her hand as she grabs hold of her walker. “No need, I’m still in your line of sight. I ain’t going anywhere. Just want to check in with some friends. Give you two some time to start planning.” Before she walks away, she taps me on the shoulder. “Tell her about the ranch. I’ve always loved it there.”
My throat tightens at that. But I don’t say anything until she’s out of earshot, keeping her in the corner of my eye until she makes it to the table. But when I turn back to the nurse, she shakes her head.
“Is she always like that?” Imogen asks, grabbing her purse. I watch, smiling as she pulls a plastic dish from the bag.
