Chapter Fifteen
Iris' insides were churning in an emotional maelstrom as she strode out to the Excursion, grateful she didn't encounter Nick or Catherine. The morning promised to be bright and cheery, the polar opposite of how she felt right now. She climbed in behind the wheel and started the diesel engine. Iris groaned at how she had left Jim's office and now berated herself out loud for nearly asking Brass on a date outright. The Excursion's dark tinted windows would allow her the privacy to have a little chat with herself. Let the self-lecture begin!
"Iris, you coward, what you should've done is offered yourself up as a sacrificial virgin on the altar of Jim Brass' desk. That's the twist of it because you'd qualify as one! You come to Vegas and put your heart in your hand and threw it like dice. You bet your best qualities and came up snake eyes in craps. What a romantic fool you are and doomed to remain! You'll never be Jim Brass' type so take your dose of reality like a good girl. Be the good worker bee you always are and swallow the false hopes you had and assume the role you're best at, being friend to all of the male persuasion and lover of none."
It was as good a pep talk as she could manage. She wouldn't cave into the impulse to have a good cry over it. That would come later at home during a chick flick moviethon with a gallon of Dutch chocolate ice cream and rice krispies. Home, she sighed to herself, she'd wanted it to be Vegas and she'd wanted a relationship with Brass that had germinated from a warm friendship into something stronger and permanent. Yes, she would dare in spite of being a romantic fool to keep hoping one day would happen in a place of which there were at least fifty in downtown Vegas alone with nuptials held nearly round the clock.
Iris put the Excursion in reverse and started to slowly back out. Years of living in Dallas had taught her not to just pull out suddenly. Too many drivers prone to zipping through the parking lot without a warning honk or heaven forbid slow down at all had her witness her share of fender benders. Now was no different she saw as a dark blue or perhaps black car came past the rear view mirror and she hit the brake just in time. She gave a confirming honk to show she was aware of the other driver and waited. Upon checking her driver side mirror to see if the other car had safely passed, she was a bit peeved to see the car was stopped, effectively blocking her in. Iris was generally a patient soul but given the events of the last hour she was not in a frame of mind to wait. She honked again and waved her arm out the window to signal the other driver to proceed. The car remained stationary and to urge the other driver on, she put the Excursion in reverse again and backed out until it was nearly nudging the other car. The other driver refused to move so Iris hit her horn again and let it blast several seconds. That did it because the driver's door of the other car opened. That's just great, she thought, now to trade words with a stranger to cap her morning. She sat and waited with eyes staring straight ahead. The other person had better be reasonable or be prepared to deal with what she called her prickly side.
The other driver rapped knuckles on the driver's side window of the Excursion and waited expectantly for Iris to lower her window. She clicked on the button and the electric window smoothly lowered as she turned to address the other car's driver. The dark sunglasses concealed the other person's appraising squint that showed in frustratingly familiar peripheral crinkle lines. She faced off with the other driver for several seconds and said coldly, "Move your car so I can go home."
"You're coming with me," she was told instead.
"Where? To say hello to Triana at her place or something warped like a threesome? Not interested," Iris snapped sarcastically, then cringed inside. It wasn't like her to be that way, but her pride was smarting.
"I don't blame you for taking that shot but like it or not you're still coming with me," Jim reiterated.
Blast him, Iris thought, why'd he have to wear his shades? They only enhanced and intensified the unique physical and mental mix that made Brass who he was and further bestowed a dangerous rougish look. Her Irish was in warp drive and she was in no mood to go along with whatever Brass had in mind. "Fine, I'll just take a taxi home. You can give it a police escort if that melts your chocolate. I'm tired and still have a case to finish with you and all I want to do right now is get a shower and collapse in bed!"
She rolled up the window, opened the door, clicked her key fob to lock the SUV and engage its alarm. As Iris went past him, he grabbed her wrist while body pinning her to the vehicle, taking her keys with their plastic-cased quarters jingling madly from her hand. Her look of pure shock was just what he wanted as he unlocked the Excursion and reached in to pull out a small duffle bag from the back seat.
"I remember you're saying you keep a change of clothes on hand after Greg told you about him and Sara once having to take a Hazmat shower together. Maybe that'll happen for us, let's go," Brass said smugly and locked the Excursion up.
"You're outrageously overconfident about whatever scheme you're trying to hatch, but I'm not going anywhere with you," Iris spat irately. She pushed her butt hard against him, causing him to utter a faint grunt of "oof" while trying in vain to dig her heels into asphalt to stop his herding her relentlessly to the Charger.
"Vicks, I'm in control here, you're not winning this round. We're going to have a private chat away from other ears and it may require an overnight stay," Brass chortled menacingly.
Overnight stay? Somewhere by themselves! Iris nearly went into a panic but kept her head.
"I don't know what in blazes you've got cooking but you're delusional if you think I'm voluntarily getting into your car!" Iris fumed and braced her foot against the left rear tire of the Excursion, still pushing back at Brass and forcing him to stop.
"You've got two options, get in like a lady or I'm putting you over my shoulder caveman-style and tossing your sweet ass in the back seat. You've got till the count of three," Brass warned her.
"You wouldn't dare!" Iris retorted icily and faced him, call her "sweet ass" would he?
"One," he growled.
"We're in a parking lot! I'll scream "fire" at the top of my lungs!" Iris vowed.
"Two," Jim rumbled.
"You don't have the stones and if you don't want a kick where Triana's been, turn me loose!" Iris threatened angrily, brown eyes snapping sparks.
"Three," Brass exploded, patience ended, and Iris found herself lifted up like a sack of horse feed and thrown over his shoulder.
"Jim Brass, you put me down!" Iris squealed in fury.
Jim deftly opened the passenger rear door and dumped her unceremoniously in the back seat. "Your wish is my command milady."
"You colossal schmuck!" Iris barked in rage at him. He simply shut the door, knowing the child locks were in place for the rear doors. She couldn't get out unless she tried climbing over the console between the bucket seats. Jim silently recommended she not attempt that.
Nick had come out briefly to retrieve an evidence envelope he'd left by accident in his Avalanche and had watched in disbelief as Brass lifted Iris like she weighed nothing and put her in his back seat like she was a sack of potatoes. He was unsettled by the tableau and decided to check things out. Nick was about halfway there when Jim saw him. Iris saw him too and waved frantically for his help.
"Hold it, Nick, this don't involve you," Jim put his hand up in a stop-right-there motion.
"It does when I see Iris being treated bad and I won't stand for that even if it's you, Brass man," Nick objected and squared his shoulders, he had two or three inches on Brass easy.
"She's fine, madder than a wet hen, but fine," Jim promised.
"So what's going on? I don't get a woman upset if I can help it," Nick commented.
"You could say I'm taking Iris against her will," Brass divulged slyly with a wink that caught Nick by surprise.
"I dunno, Jim, is that wise to say to me? Could be interpreted as kidnapping, you know," Nick said in a worried tone.
"My intentions are honorable even though it looks anything but at the moment. Trust me, Nick, Iris will be totally safe in these capable hands," Brass reassured him with outstretched hands.
"She's gonna be sore I didn't help her, but swear you'll treat her okay," Nick insisted.
"I swear on a stack of invisible Bibles," Brass pledged.
Iris watched Nick give her an "I tried" look before he walked out of sight along with her last chance at freedom. Brass saw her expression before her eyes met his and she averted her face. Lord, she's PO'd, Brass thought, but she'd see his way of thinking or so he hoped.
He opened the front passenger door. "Now, if you're ready to be reasonable and not act like a spoiled brat, I'd like you to ride shotgun with me."
"Spoiled brat? Buster, you've got some major 'nads….," Iris seethed at him.
"Do I need to count again?" he asked with a pointing finger.
Iris' lips clamped in a tight line, suppressing a string of sarcastic retorts lined up like arrows in a quiver she wanted to let fly.
"That's better and, yes, I do have major ones," Brass said with a brittle snicker and hit the unlock button on the passenger front door. Iris got out from the back seat, her eyes shooting daggers at him while she seated herself in the front and Jim shut the door. He liked a challenge he told himself again.
Iris sat still as a statue and as mute as one while he drove the Charger out of the LVPD parking lot. She waited nearly ten minutes before she said, "I need to go home to take care of the dogs."
"No, you don't because you'll call Brian next door to house-sit for you," Jim instructed.
"Look, I can't do that because I have only one change of clothes to work in and don't think for a New York minute I'm staying somewhere overnight with you," Iris declared, trying to sound firm, but her voice quavered slightly. Brass had her nervous and he knew it when he smiled that wolfish smile.
"Any woman whoever had the privilege of my company overnight was left better than I found her," he boasted smugly.
"You're a legend in your own mind," Iris said exasperated and threw her hands up.
"We're going to my place where you know I've got more than one bedroom so don't fret about your virtue," he chuckled with a roguish wink.
Iris' brows threatened to shoot off her forehead at the words "your virtue." "We still have our case to finish or have you forgotten?"
"Both your forensic and Doc's autopsy findings will dovetail in with what the casino surveillance and parking lot videos revealed that Glamazon went after Wu when she, or he, depending on your point of view, and a cast can be made of his teeth to compare to the bite on Wu's hand. Robbery was the motive. Vartann's agreed to finish the case details for me because I requested off urgent for personal reasons," Brass informed her.
"Well, rank has its privileges but I won't do that to Catherine not even for you, so end this little prank of yours and take me back. I promise no hard feelings," Iris tried sincerely to bargain with him.
"Rich told Catherine he was available to help her due to your sudden need to be absent to which Catherine agreed to as a favor to me. You're going to be on R-N-R for 24 to 48 hours with moi," Brass grinned dangerously at her.
"You just went from colossal to supreme schmuck. How could you do that to me without asking? You have no reason to let alone the right!" Iris was annoyed and trying to make sense of what Jim was doing.
"I have my reasons, Vicks; see I don't call in a favor unless I have to. I took the steps I had to so you're being able to be off as my guest," Brass said.
"You're being vague for my continued benefit?" she asked coolly.
"For now," he said.
"Either way I'm your prisoner it seems," Iris said with a sigh of resignation.
"I'm hoping you won't see it that way and look back at what happens today fondly," Jim said.
"I doubt it," Iris muttered to herself.
"What?" Brass said.
"I said count on it," Iris fabricated blithely.
"Nice," Brass said having her heard her original utterance.
The Charger pulled into the driveway and Jim had no so sooner parked when Iris slugged him in the right arm as hard as she could with her right hand balled into a fist and middle finger knuckle extended.
"Hey, what the…," Jim yelped, swearing under his breath and rubbing his biceps area in pain.
"What the hey is what I should be saying. What's with this drama, Jim? Throwing my "sweet ass" as you called it in your car?" You better have some handcuffs ready or better yet boxing gloves, pal," Iris warned defensively with upraised fists.
"Could you dial it down a notch? I'm making this up as I go along," Jim said and his discomfort from where she'd hit him was clear in his face.
"Okay, sorry, I frogged you, I'm still irked," Iris was truly contrite as she got her duffle bag out of the back seat and followed him in.
Iris saw in the chess set in his living room. "You didn't reset the pieces."
"The game's not finished, I don't know if I win yet," he said with a thin smile.
He sat down in his recliner and she took her familiar position in the love seat near him. Iris had to know and know now. "Why am I here? You said you were making it up as you went along."
"A coin flip brought you here…kind of appropriate for Vegas, isn't it?" Jim said quietly.
"A coin flip?" Iris echoed with a furrowed brow.
Jim opened his wallet and handed her the gold piece, following it with the story of its marital tie to three generations of Brass males. "I thought this was going to bring me luck in my marriage…look how that turned out."
"Did you choose head or tails?" Iris asked neutrally as she inspected the coin.
"I listened to that song when you were standing in the doorway and how your face looked and then you just left. Not your usual saying some other time when I declined eating out with you or even saying good-bye, then it hit me you wouldn't be asking again. I tossed the coin and if it hit tails I didn't make a move and if it was heads I was out the door," Jim said while Iris gave him the coin back.
"It was heads then given what followed," Iris noted.
"No, it was tails and I wasn't about to let a coin make my decisions," he replied with a bitter chuckle.
"Okay, good to know, I guess," Iris said, "but why am I here?"
"You scare me," Brass said and the scrutiny of his blue-eyed gaze at her was intense.
Iris shook her head dumbly at what he'd said and blanched, trying to understand what he'd just said. "How could I scare you?"
"Because of what's going on here…vis a vis… between us," Jim said slowly with a back and forth gesture of his hand.
She felt her heart constrict and throat go dry, while at the same time a little flame of hope burned, but she had to be realistic for both their sakes. "We're friends, Jim, better friends in fact here of late. I'm not your type, remember, so no worries."
"Exactly…at least that's what I kept telling myself…but I can't be a detective and ignore some compelling evidence," he tried to reason even now.
"You shouldn't be scared then, there's no cause to be," Iris tried to gently disagree.
"Yeah, Iris, there is, I don't want it to go toxic between us," Jim stated and there was fear both in his voice and in his eyes.
"T-t-toxic?" Iris stammered on the word, trying to gauge its import.
"I've been fine with keeping my involvement with a woman superficial and brief. I don't get attached so no regrets. We have some fun and great sex for a while, and then go our separate ways. I told myself after Triana that I wouldn't allow something more with any woman at Metro or the crime lab. I keep it friendly but casual. Now before you say it, there's an exception for Catherine and Sara, who are family to me," Brass revealed with a fond look at the mention of those names.
"Are you afraid I'm trying to encroach on that exception somehow? We're content as friends, you now," Iris kept her voice neutral, not wanting to cause him distress. He'd unknowingly flattened the emotional walls she'd kept her heart a fortress in, but he'd never know what this neutrality was costing her.
"You didn't encroach, Iris, you blew past what I'd set as my safe zone," he said and continued. "You're not my type and that's what scares me…scared of messing it up before it even gets started…like making ground rules about seeing each other. You're the kind of woman who'd be there every day no matter what, could love a guy for who he is, maybe that for better or for worse type. I'm daring to hope again, that's why you scare me."
He wearily pulled his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt to open the collar.
"Iris, what do you see?" he gave the living room a sweeping motion with his hand.
"Your home, of course," Iris replied with raised brows.
"No, you see a house, the place where I live, but it's not a home. It wasn't a home until there was singing in the kitchen, laughing at a John Wayne DVD, wrestling in the back yard till we got muddy, putting up with me when I was a cranky and sick, giving me great food and back massages and never asking a thing in return. I found I missed it, all of it, missed you're being here. I've been a starving man and didn't know it," he spoke softly.
"So you carry me off like this instead of just inviting me to breakfast which could've saved you the trouble," Iris tried to tease gently.
"Better than a hotel room, which would've been dangerous enough, I can control myself," Jim replied to reassure himself more than Iris, but he wasn't sure if here was safe either.
"It's acknowledged then that we have more than friendly feelings betwixt us," Iris speculated tentatively.
"There you go with your weird words! Well, I do and thought you did to or did I already touch the toxic button," Brass said with a weary snort.
Iris responded by getting up from the love seat and leaning over so that her face touched his while slowly rubbing noses with him, their lips nearly touching, her soft breath on his cheek as her nose slowly traced the outline of his own repeatedly. She let her tongue make faint intermittent contact with his skin to make a moist trail while she tasted the subtle saltiness of it. Her eyes were shut while she did this, and Brass' were closed too as he relished in the sensations. She let instinct guide her for what she didn't know firsthand, wondering if Brass' type included a preference for the female being the initiator of intimate activities. Still, she wasn't even to first base yet in this game of loving.
When Iris drew back slightly, he protested, "Hey, hey, hey, what the…? That ain't no kiss!"
"Hey, hey, hey, that was an Eskimo kiss and you got the very intense French version of it," she replied with a soft giggle.
Brass scowled at her, "Sorry, I only go for this type!" He pulled her onto the recliner with Iris finding that he preferred kissing that was slow and intensely French and had the potential to last for days.
"So think I could get to be your type?" Iris said softly after a while of exploring her abilities to make out, especially after moving from the recliner to the nearby couch proved to accommodate them beneficially.
"You have potential," he replied huskily against her neck.
"I know I'm not anything like Triana or the other ladies you've been with. I'm a low rider by comparison physically," Iris lamented with a self-deprecating chuckle while turned on her side with him behind her.
"You told me I needed to expand my horizons back when and I know I'll benefit from wising up. You're shorter than me so you can look up to me," he grinned.
"Oh, funny one, ha," Iris grumbled with an elbow poke in his ribs.
"Look, you know Triana's history and that chemistry is also passé. What makes you you is what got my attention, so let it go, no more Triana references," Brass told her so that she'd exorcise any notions that Triana lingered like a specter.
Jim suddenly got up and went to his chess set, taking Iris by the hand to follow him. He studied the game for several moments and leaned down to move his king that took and captured Iris' queen. She gave a startled gasp, "Blast, check mate."
"Symbolic in how the game concluded, don't you think?" Jim said archly while he held up the two chess pieces.
"Cheesy but you could say that…when was it I had your attention?" Iris asked while she went to the couch. He followed and got her snuggled up to him.
"I gotta apologize first," he began and hesitated.
"What in the world for?" Iris was curious.
"When you were in your living room just slow dancing in the candle light to the songs, I called it a show. I actually found it innocent, sexy, erotic and arousing as hell all at once, way better than any pole or lap dancer I was ever with. I wanted to be the person you wanted to be with that way. I want that kind of night with you," he disclosed quietly.
Iris found she was speechless at hearing this and formulated a non-verbal response. She turned his left hand palm up and began a slow trek of small open-mouthed wet kisses of each fingertip down the shaft of the digit and to the palm itself where lazy slow circles were made. Brass inhaled sharply as her head finally moved from the palm to the inside of his wrist where she continued this activity that was giving Brass a…well…intense physical reaction. Manners be hanged if she kept this up, he couldn't be responsible for what might follow; it might be too soon for her but not him. He stopped her and took her face between his hands. She looked up confused – had she done wrong?
"What're you doing?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Giving you a hickey, I think?" Iris replied after several moments.
Brass thought what a fool David had been. He'd had someone like this and sneered at the opportunity. She had this freshness…newness…innocence at what she was doing with him. Could it be she was making this up as she went along? He wasn't sure what to term it. It was a sort of devotion that touched him, and he vowed it wouldn't be wasted with him. "Careful, Iris, this could escalate."
"You're getting turned on, hot and bothered, ants in your pants, aroused to the point of no return, worked up by me?" Iris' expression of true amazement he found sad and exciting in the same instant, hearing her surprise she could elicit that in a man but that it had been reserved for him by some act of providence.
"Yes, in a BIG way, if you get my drift," Brass said and sat up quickly.
"Well, I want the whole package," she declared boldly.
"Uh, do you know what you're asking for?" Brass asked sharply.
"Yes, I want the deluxe, top of the line, not to be found in stores or online or a limited TV offer, no holds barred, big Jim Brass love package. Can you deliver?" Iris said slowly and deliberately while rubbing noses with him as she had before.
"Have you talked to Rene?" Jim's tone was slightly hoarse again.
"No, not since I had my fencing lesson that you interrupted, why?" Iris queried curiously and her head titled slightly. The familiar gesture made Brass smile which heightened her curiosity because she didn't understand why he smiled.
"There was a disagreement about package and delivery issues, but to answer your question I'm like UPS 24/7 where you're concerned," he replied and patted her hand on his belt buckle.
"Oh…good to know…there may be a problem," Iris said in a small voice, Brass noting her hand hadn't moved.
"Like what?" It was Jim's turn to be curious.
"I'm a honeymoon kind of girl so does that disappoint you?" Iris said softly. She steeled herself, understanding that she might fall short of truly being the answer to his wants and needs.
"No, I'm not because I think you're worth that, so I better get used to cold showers," Brass replied with a faint grin, surprising himself more than her.
"Are you hungry?" Iris changed the subject, not sure of where things were headed, and she was truly famished.
"Yeah, now that you mention it, you want to go somewhere?" Brass said, wondering what caused her to radically change the gears of the conversation.
"I can make something here," Iris said and headed to the kitchen.
"Look, aside from the first class cooking you bestow on me, I eat out mostly so I doubt you'll find anything promising," Jim cautioned, hearing drawers opening, the pantry door that opened with a squeak he kept meaning to oil the hinges of, the fridge opening up, pots and pans rattling, before he went in himself.
"I'm going to make Chinese stir-fry using chopped fish filets with vegetables and rice, how's that?" she announced, assembling frozen fish, peas and carrots, with a box of long grain wild rice.
"I don't have a wok," Jim said.
"That's okay, I can woll with a saucepan," she quipped.
He caught in his arms right then before she could become the whirling dervish in the kitchen he knew she'd be in a moment. His gaze became intent coupled with the serious tone in his voice, "Iris."
She gave him her full attention. "Sir?"
"When we're done eating, I want to take you somewhere that's special to me. Will you come?" he asked and she heard the little boy hope in his voice that also shined in his eyes.
"I'm in your hands. Where you go I go also," she said, her hand patting his chest.
"You don't have much of a choice," he said, kissing her hand, as Iris felt a third-degree blush come on.
She had to admit later it was an inspired brunch she whipped up when Brass asked for a second and third helping. The dishwasher was engaged when he told her it was time to go. She was tired but adrenaline was keeping her going at this point.
Chapter Sixteen
The Charger was headed east on highway 564 in Henderson as Iris looked to see a Wal-Mart looming in the distance. He'd packed his own canvas bag with clothes and toiletries, but Brass nodded to himself good idea. "Last chance for you to make a run for it, Iris."
"No way, you're making this up as you go along, remember, so you're stuck with me," she grinned.
"I think a stop at Wally World's in order for your benefit. Get what you need for an overnight stay and keep an open mind for activities," he instructed cryptically.
"That helps a lot," she frowned at him but took the challenge.
He was convinced they'd be there for hours, thinking she had to roam every part of the store. They left in less than thirty minutes. She'd gone to find a bathing suit, two Capri pants and three tops she could mix-and-match, cotton undies and sports bras, mauve baby doll pajamas and a matching terry cloth robe. After that, they went to the grocery section to get miscellaneous food and drink items.
As they went through the checkout line manned by a young Hispanic woman who grinned at them, saying, "Looks like you and your husband have a romantic getaway to the lake planned."
Iris' eyebrows rose fractionally but she deferred to see what Jim's response might be and who was paying. She dug through her backpack purse to get her wallet.
"Yeah, a getaway is just what we need, isn't it, honey?" Jim replied while he used his own credit card, slipping his other arm around Iris' waist.
"That's the fastest shopping trip I've ever had with a woman," he said impressed as they walked out to the Charger.
"Ah, I'm an atypical female when it comes to shopping. I just want to go in and get what I need and get out," she revealed, putting on her sunglasses, before adding. "You should've let me pay for my stuff, Jim."
"No, Iris, you may have extended use of what you picked out," Jim said and his continued vagueness only made Iris' curiosity heighten and he knew it.
"Oh, blast and hang it, I forgot something!" she exclaimed with a smack to her forehead when they were back on the road.
"What? We're already on the way, is it crucial?" Jim grumbled.
"Yes, I forgot the mace," she replied seriously.
"Mace? To use on who, me?" he retorted.
"No to protect you if I get frisky," she said, face inscrutable, behind her sunglasses.
Brass for once was speechless for at least a minute before she heard a chuckling rumble in his chest that rolled into hearty laughter before he reached in his pocket and pulled out a bandana to give her. "Iris, so I can keep this surprise going, would you blindfold yourself?"
She looked at him several moments before she shrugged, folded the bandana, removed her sunglasses and tied it in place. "Okies, Captain Brass, I'll continue to be a good sport."
As they drove on, Jim had her play a guessing game of where they were bound and she rattled off camping, fishing trip, a forest wedding chapel run by Yogi Bear, experiencing the submarine races at the lake – which she had to explain meant serious parking - a redneck honky-tonk where she'd teach him to do a proper 2-step, skinny dipping after the sun went down in some discrete spot on Lake Mead. She said each thing in such an earnest fashion he kept cracking up at her dry wit and sly sense of humor that he had come to appreciate more and more.
She noted by ear the car was now on a gravel road after turning from the paved road surface and though curiosity fiercely goaded her, the blindfold remained in place as promised. The car stopped at last.
"Iris, I'll come to your side and help you out, no peeking now," Brass instructed.
"No peeking," Iris nodded.
He helped her out of the car, approving of how attentive she remained in spite of the blindfold. Her nostrils flared slightly as she took deep breaths to take in a variety of scents, her head cocked slightly as she heard birds chirping in the distance, the smell of nearby water, a pungent tree scent in the breeze.
Jim removed the blindfold and waited, holding his own breath to see how she reacted.
In front of them was a modest-sized wood cabin with a wraparound porch concealed in the midst of a large grove of mainly pine trees that provided dappled shade for it. Iris' hands flew to mouth as Jim heard a small "oh" of surprise. "I…I…I know this place…Jim, is this yours?"
"Yeah," he grinned proudly. "What do you think?"
"It's beautiful, you can't see the cabin from the drive, you are so blessed," Iris said as she continued to take in the scenery as well as the cabin.
"Come on, I'll give you the tour of Chateau du Brass," he said with a fair French accent.
"A man's home is his castle," added Iris as she followed.
The cabin had three bedrooms and one bathroom, a kitchen with an adjoining living room. A stackable washer-dryer were in a tiny utility area off the kitchen. The furnishings throughout were rustic but comfortable. Iris found herself falling for the place as fast as she had its owner. "Jim, I love it, you have your own private forest, and you're close to the lake, wow."
"I was hoping you liked the place," Jim said with a little crooked smile.
"You knew I would from the picture test! How'd you get it? I mean I didn't see any other cabins," Iris queried, plopping down in an overstuffed arm chair.
"And you won't. We're just past the Echo Bay RV area for campers. The original property owner has all the land that makes up the marina, RV parking and camping site, and other businesses had this cabin and planted the pine trees probably a hundred years ago," Jim told her and continued. "The place stayed in that family until the only child of the last owner, her daughter, was killed in Vegas twelve years ago in a carjacking. I was the homicide detective on the case. I followed it for three years before I nailed the scumbag. The old lady died three years later and she left this to me in her will out of gratitude it said. It pissed off some of her relatives who wanted all of the property. I got offered outrageous money to sell it but I refused. Life's funny," Brass told her.
"Was it just like this?" Iris asked.
"Hell no, it was a total wreck inside. No one had lived here in years. I'd come out here on weekends to do remodeling work or invite Gil to come help if he could. It was a total buddy project," Jim recalled with a fond smile. "All of the CSI's have used this place one time or another."
"It's a wonderful getaway spot, I bet you've had some company here," Iris teased softly.
"Not as much as you think. I come here mainly to fish and relax. One day I plan to retire here," he shrugged. "Come on, let's get the car unpacked."
They'd opted to take a power nap that lasted two hours with each of them resting in separate bedrooms. Iris' cell phone alarm woke her up ahead of Jim, by plan, so she could quietly start cooking dinner and surprise him. She was working on skillet fried potatoes when Brass walked in rubbing his eyes after waking up.
"Hey, I should be making you dinner!" he protested.
"You can have me for dessert," Iris blurted but covered her mouth with a towel as a faint rosy blush blossomed on her cheeks.
"Well, that's food for thought," Jim said reflectively, stabbing a potato cube with a fork to sample ahead of time.
The meal also included BLT and cheese wraps with a brownie ala mode for dessert. "It's simple fare, Jim," she commented as she cleared the table.
"Simple, bull, I feasted better than someone eating the priciest meal in Vegas. I have my own personal chef, right?" he said optimistically.
"I'm ever at your service," she said with a hand over her heart.
"It's almost dusk, time for the light show," he beckoned cryptically with a crooked forefinger as he went outside.
Iris followed and he took a seat in the porch swing, patting the spot beside him for her to sit. There was a gorgeous sunset before them as the setting sun sparkled on the lake nearby. Eastern streaks of crimson orange and deep fiery red contrasted with the western sky approaching with its purple-blue mantle. As the day ceded to night, Jim pointed to the high grass growing away from the cabin beneath the pine trees. "Watch," he said in a low voice.
In the tall grass as the sky lost the last of the sun and the stars became masters of the heavens, tiny flashes of yellow light began to emerge from the grass and began floating in a lazy haphazard dance in the cooling night air. Jim used his ever-present lighter to start a propane camping lantern beside him to provide low-level light on the porch.
"Lightning bugs," Iris said with a child's wonder.
"Fireflies," Jim grinned at her. "Did you catch 'em as a kid?"
"Yes, I'd keep them in a jar, until my brother Mike would smash them later to see what made them glow," Iris recalled nostalgically.
"Yeah, my brother and I did the same thing," Brass confessed with a faint chuckle.
"Looks like it's starting to cloud up," Iris commented at the thickening dark clouds in the distance. "Think it might rain?"
"Maybe, I didn't listen to the weather today, had other things on my mind," he replied, his arm slipping behind her to keep her close. "Now what?"
"We could play chess or watch a DVD," Iris suggested.
"Or fool around?" he murmured against her neck.
"Let's see what happens," Iris said with a faint sigh, her head turned further to let his exploration of her neck continue.
It turned into a movie night for them with a double feature of Iris' choice of "Cinderella Man" and his of "Mystery, Alaska." By the ending credits, Iris was yawning on Jim's shoulder when he casually asked, "So what are our sleeping arrangements to be?"
Iris thought several seconds before she replied, "For now his and hers."
"I'll need time to take a cold shower," he complained with a faint laugh.
She looked up at him and saw the humorous but challenging glint in his eyes, so she decided to strike preemptively and give him cause to take that cold shower. It only took one soft kiss to the corner of his mouth do him in as he pulled her onto his lap to follow up what she'd initiated with more of the same activity. They parted at last to head to bed, but each feeling a cold shower wouldn't begin to put out what was simmering between them yet it was left unsaid. After a final lengthy good night kiss, he closed the door to her room with a heavy inward sigh to walk slowly to his room next to hers.
Two hours later the cabin literally shook from the sound of thunder, bringing Jim out of an already restless sleep to sit up straight in bed wide awake. A heavy rain was in progress, the drops hitting the window like someone tossing pebbles against the glass. The wind was like a low howl as it picked up. He reached for the small light on the end table, glad to see the power was still on and that he didn't have to go start up the gas generator. His next concern was to check on Iris who he was sure would be frightened, but it'd been uncanny to him how she felt it would rain.
He knocked on the door, "Iris?" No answer. He knocked again and repeated, "Iris?" No response. Jim slowly opened the door because he feared waking her up if she was a sound sleeper or unbeknownst to him she slept au natural which was a sight he wasn't averse to seeing. His curiosity about that was off the charts as it was. He knew some people who could probably sleep through a nuclear strike. It was dark but he saw the curtains to the window pulled open as another lightning strike turned the outside electric blue for a moment. Iris was sitting in a chair by the window as she watched the dazzling storm outside. He made his way to her, nearly tripping on one corner of the bed and stubbing his left big toe. Iris heard the commotion and was startled reaction but masked her surprise well. She turned to help him steady himself as another blast of lightning lit the room up. "Jim, oh me, are you okay?"
"No, dammit," he said in obvious discomfort, rubbing at his foot.
She turned on the lamp by the bed, it was a 3-way bulb and on the lowest setting to bathe just the bed in a soft white light. Jim stretched himself on the bed with a stifled groan. Iris turned her attention to his toe and gently checked its range of motion. "It's not broken but will likely bruise, so you'll be sore a few days. I've got some Advil if you want it."
"Thank you for your diagnosis, Dr. King," Brass grunted.
"I guess the storm woke you up but what made you come here? Hold that thought while I bring you an ice pack," Iris said.
She was gone five minutes and returned with a zip lock sandwich bag with ice cubes to carefully place on his toe. Her head was bent to the task and her seriousness made him chuckle while at the same time realizing her care and concern for him was genuine. She'd also given him two Advil tablets and a bottled water to wash them down with. It caused a confusing jumble of emotions inside of him. The storm picked up in its intensity outside, but Brass was starting to feel the same inside.
"The storm woke me up but I was sleeping lousy already. I came in to check on you, do the gentlemanly deed I guess," he remarked.
"I was up when I heard the first clap of thunder a ways off. I've loved to watch storms since I was a kid. I used to sleep like a rock but after what happened with Max I don't anymore. However, you do sleep like a rock, so why would you be sleeping lousy as you termed it?" Iris said with an inquisitive cock of her head. The soft light gave the effect of amber highlights in her dark eyes.
Brass found himself nearly shaking from clashing urges linked to strengthening feelings and the nearness to her that caused them all. Iris had snuggled herself against him, unaware or perhaps aware of what he was caught up in and it added to the delicious anticipation for what he wanted to happen.
"Darlin', how can I sleep? You make it impossible," he said in a low gravelly growl as he turned to gently pin her.
"Drat, why'd you have to sound like Tommy Lee Jones just then?" she sighed in his ear.
"Huh, the guy in "The Fugitive"?" he snorted.
"Yeah, you sounded like him when you called me darlin', and I found it kinda sexy," she giggled against his cheek.
"So you're saying you feel what'd you call it, frisky?" Brass wondered.
"How could any red-blooded American female feel otherwise within the confines of your arms?" she teased and peppered his jaw line with little smothery kisses until his lips intercepted hers.
The way they molded to one another gave Brass pause. He realized at this moment she'd completely give herself to him. They were on the cusp right now, teetering dangerously at that. He pulled back slightly and saw no hesitation in those warm doe-like eyes. Brass had never wanted someone as fiercely as he did right now.
"Iris, I don't want this to be just sex between us, I want more than that, I'm tired of quick gratification," he said in a voice raspy with desire.
She stroked his cheek with velvet fingertips that traveled with slow feathery strokes down his neck and to his chest to trace lazy patterns on his "hirsute-blessed" chest as she called it again, making him chuckle again at its nickname. The fingers of her right hand formed into a particular configuration to lie over his heart that he recognized from some of the signs she'd taught him besides the alphabet. She said the translation of it in a soft but resolute voice in his ear, making him hold her tightly to him and fearing he'd misheard her.
"I trust you, Jim, afraid you're stuck with me," she whispered.
"You know there're other ways we can enjoy ourselves," he said carefully, wanting to honor how she said she'd give herself wholeheartedly to "the one".
She gave him a long, searching look for several moments before a slow smile quirked at her lips. "Access granted."
Jim smiled back. As far as he was concerned they had all the time in the world and he was going to take full advantage of it. Brass wanted Iris to discover that the itch he had only she could scratch. His appetite was sharp and he savored whetting it with the mutual exploration ahead. Over the ensuing hours the conversation between them was an admixture of verbal and non-verbal with sighs and soft groans to inarticulate gasps. Brass discovered that Iris had spoken truly of when she'd be a nibbler or a nipper in relation to the body part in question and proving she was adept at knowing when to be one or the other.
At one point when he had Iris strategically positioned, she suddenly arched against him and exclaimed, "What are you trying to do? Put my hind end into convolutions of delight?"
Jim stopped his pursuit of happiness. No woman had ever said such a thing to him at least not in those terms. "Are you trying to talk dirty?"
"Is that a mood enhancer?" she inquired with a weak chuckle.
"Could be," he murmured before attacking the area of interest he'd been involved with.
At one point, he had Iris gasping, "Mama mia, you're a spicy meatball!"
More than once, Jim had them both laughing when he said, "Iris, where's the mace?"
The storm was a long one but barely rivaled the equivalent of what was happening in the cabin. Dawn was doing the changing of the color guard outside the bedroom window as the sky began to lighten. The wind and rain had moved on with the storm. Jim and Iris had finally fallen asleep in a blissful tangle of sheets; he was spooned behind her with an arm casually but possessively draped over her midsection.
Bright sunlight streamed into the room through a crack in the closed curtains that woke Iris up. She stretched out with a soft groan, finding that Brass wasn't there. She sat up with a yawn and her eyes widened. Had last night really happened or was it just a delicious dream? She'd settle for that delicious dream if she had to. Reaching for her robe thrown carelessly on the floor, she headed to the kitchen. Maybe Jim liked an early morning run or a walk, feeling that would work because she could surprise him with breakfast. But it was her turn to be surprised because he was already in the kitchen scrambling eggs in an iron skillet. Toast and bacon were already on plates on the table with coffee and orange juice.
"Mornin', darlin'," he drawled and grinned when Iris waved a hand to fan herself. Tommy Lee had nothing on Brass.
"You're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, hon," she gazed up at him fondly.
"I slept like a baby," he stopped egg scrambling long enough to pull her in for an extended buss. "Take a seat, I got breakfast covered."
"So what's on the agenda today, boss?" she said between bites of the cinnamon sugar toast he made after he'd had informed her that she was the reason for his new favorite toast. Her calling him boss caused his wolfish grin that Iris knew she'd never tire of seeing.
"If I had a boat, we could explore the lake before it got too hot and get in some early fishing but we slept in," he lamented.
"Shucks, I thought I was the catch of the day," Iris grumbled with a pout.
"Babe, you are and I should know after access granted which I now count among my favorite words," he smirked.
"It was give and take, wasn't it?" she recalled with a shy look at him.
"It was hard to call it a night, that's for sure," Brass admitted with a smile of satisfaction.
"Are you proposing round two?" Iris asked with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.
"Tempting offer but I figured we'd head back home and let the day just happen," he proposed with a rakish smile.
"Can you take me to one place then?" Iris asked softly.
"Sure, name it," he said and his mood was expansive.
"I'd like to visit Warrick's resting place to leave some flowers," she requested in a hushed voice.
"I'll take you, Iris," he nodded, realizing she'd never been to the cemetery with Nick.
X X X X X
The cemetery groundskeeper gave a disgusted look at the series of toppled headstones. It was happening more and more. He'd cited punk kids on a vandalism spree with sprayed graffiti, smashed or knocked over headstones, or in the extreme attempting to desecrate a grave by trying to dig up a body. That was usually around Halloween which was months away. His complaints to the city were met with token gestures of stepped up police patrols for a week or two, and the only interest generated from the public was when a TV news reporter showed up. He took pride in keeping the property immaculate for anyone coming to visit a loved one. Now was no different as he watched a dark Dodge Charger pull up in the drive that went throughout the cemetery and a man and woman get out with flowers. They were walking toward him when the man stopped upon seeing the crumbled headstone showing the name of a married couple.
"Kids?" he said to the groundskeeper, gesturing at the knocked over stone.
"Yeah, the city doesn't give a crap, I'll call it in anyway," the groundskeeper grunted.
"I'm Detective Jim Brass of the Metro PD. If you don't get a response, give me a call and I'll see if I can help," Jim introduced himself and gave him a business card.
The groundskeeper looked at it and then at Brass. "Homicide detective? Okay, I'll bite, whatever help you can give, thanks."
He tipped his cap at Iris and walked away.
"That happens in Dallas too. I'll never understand it," Iris said, shaking her head.
"Damn shame," Jim muttered as he took Iris' hand and continued to where Warrick's grave was.
Iris knelt to place the mixed arrangement of lilac (for memory), rosemary (for remembrance) and zinnia (thoughts of absent friends) by Warrick's headstone and of mixed roses by the headstone of Warrick's grandmother who had raised him. Her head was bowed and eyes closed for several moments. She stood up and kissed her fingers that brushed the top of the CSI's headstone.
Jim took out a smooth olive-green stone he'd found at the cabin and laid it on the top of Warrick's tombstone. He let out a heavy sigh. "I was one of his pallbearers. I haven't been back here until now. It's a Jewish tradition to leave a stone to show you visited and the deceased hasn't been forgotten. Rest in peace, Warrick, how I wish to God I'd said something different that last time."
His voice had gone ragged with regret, and he felt Iris' fingers twine with his as she pulled him close. It still hurt and the comfort she could offer she did silently but it was what he needed. Their quiet embrace lasted several minutes during which the feelings he'd kept under tight control since Warrick's murder came to the surface. It began with a dry sob that he tried to quell but Iris just rocked him back and forth like one did a child. His shoulders started to shake as convulsive sobs racked him. He leaned heavily on Iris and she continued to console him and whisper soothing words while he finally grieved in full and the ache of Warrick's loss abated somewhat. He'd never allowed himself to show it to anyone but Iris drew it out of him somehow. It was like opening a place deep inside that he'd walled off that could now start to heal. It cleansed his soul and a sense of release washed through him that it was a start. He felt tissues pressed into his hand as he wiped his eyes and blew his nose with a snort.
"The last time I cried like that it was about Ellie," he said thickly while Iris' left hand went to cup his cheek and her right displayed the sign over his heart she'd done the night before. He took that hand and kissed it softly. She seemed to look at him expectantly but he said nothing further. They returned to the Charger to leave, Jim telling Iris they'd come back in the near future.
Later that afternoon they were lounging in the canopy yard swing he'd just had placed by the koi pond. Jim told her about the last time he'd been with Warrick and what he'd said. "Iris, I want to let it go but I don't know how."
"You start by forgiving yourself. I believe you started the process there at his resting place. Maybe visit him when you're feeling that way again and leave a stone to remember the positive times between you. There'll come a day you won't have to leave one," Iris said simply. "I tell my grandmother hello every time I see a rainbow."
"Iris, I don't know what I'd do without you," he declared and she cheerfully rubbed noses with him.
She said needed to go into the house and would be right back. Iris was about 10 feet away when her cell phone rang. She shot him a look of surprise at the ring tone as he advanced on her as he stopped the call. "Still my ring tone?"
"Yes, why?" she asked cautiously.
He put his hands in her back pockets and pulled her to him. "Now you can say you've really got Brass in pocket," he said with a smirk before feasting on her lips.
"You know, it's ironic you're a homicide detective," Iris grumbled at him when he allowed them to come up for air.
"Why?" Brass arched a curious brow.
"Haven't you ever been told by the women you've been with that you've got lips that deliver a killer kiss?" Iris said tartly.
"No but still guilty on all counts, arrest me, please," Jim admitted with a wicked grin.
"Well, as long as it's only me doing the frisking and interrogating," Iris pulled him closer with her hands now possessively in his back pockets.
"With a whip and chains, strawberries and whipped cream?" Brass sounded hopeful.
"I'd opt for velvet lined handcuffs but you never know…it's us quiet ones you have to be careful about," Iris said coyly with a wink.
"Vicks, you gotta know women's hearts are breaking all over Vegas right now on account of you," Jim said down at her.
"They are? How come? And by the way, will you please quit calling me Vicks!" Iris griped with exasperation.
"Because of this," he said softly and placed his right hand with fingers in the shape of ILY over her heart while she let out a soft gasp of surprise when he whispered its meaning in her ear and added aloud. "I call you Vicks not spelled V-I-C-K-S but V-I-X because you remind me of a little fox in how you look intently at things."
"Like now?" Iris said tremulously, looking up at him with brimming eyes.
"Yeah, something like that," he smiled before his mouth sought hers.
"Jim, I hate to spoil this moment," she said against his lips.
"You won't," he assured her.
"I gotta whiz like a racehorse!" she announced with a slight grimace.
"While you're taking care of that business, I'll get started on cooking tonight so be ready to enjoy le parti de Restaurant de cuivre de deux," he said with a slight bow and accented the eight words just right.
"Ah, French which I'm curious where you learned, but the meaning?" Iris inquired.
"Brass' Restaurant, party of two, is how it translates. I took French in high school and as language minor in college. I retained more than I thought I would. I was looking to get laid back then and impress the ladies with how suave I could be. Hindsight being twenty-twenty I shoulda took Spanish being here in Vegas," he confessed with a chuckle.
"You have moxie, mon capitan," Iris giggled before excusing herself to hit the bathroom.
X X X X X
It was just past dusk and Jim had gone outside to light bamboo tiki torches surrounding the screened-in patio and throughout the yard. He took in a deep breath of air as the cool evening breeze made the flames of the torches undulate hypnotically. Brass noted no difficulty to inhale deeply or exhale, grateful for the restoration of his general good health. Iris joined him a few minutes later and he sank into the double chaise lounge beside him. It was another new purchase of his since Iris had become a regular visitor. "Jim, I have to say again I loved the sloppy Joes, potato chips, macaroni and cheese, and salad you put together!"
"I can cook, Iris, but that's your forte," Jim said deferentially.
"You know I'll be happy to cook for you as long as you like," Iris chuckled.
"What if I wanted you to do that permanently for me?" Brass asked, taking her hand in his.
"Oh, heavens, I'd be at your service….," Iris said lightly and her voice trailed off. Her face bore a stunned look and eyes full of questions.
Jim aimed the stereo remote on the table by him and music started to play before he said, "Come on, dance with me."
The song "Ain't No Woman Like the One I Got" was his choice as they began to slow dance very close.
"Darlin', that's a bona fide offer," he said soberly down at her. "You get shot and nearly die; well that changes your perspective on a lot of things. I know this…life's too short…and carpe diem's my new motto. I'm not letting something like this slip away."
"You haven't known me all that long," Iris tried to protest weakly.
"Like that's going to stop me. I've known others hardly at all and into the sack I'd go without a second thought. Look, we both said the biggest three little words to each other, right?" Jim said in a chiding tone.
"We have indeed," Iris nodded.
"I recall very clearly what you said to Catherine that day: 'l wanna be in love, I wanna wake up next to someone and see them smile. Do the whole Sunday breakfast thing, go out and get the paper, stay in bed together all day.' We've just about fulfilled that, wouldn't you say?" Jim nuzzled her cheek.
"Yes, it's just a lot to take in all once," Iris agreed, still trying to get her head around what Jim had just about proposed, an action she'd almost settled on not happening for her and with the right man.
"You've got me lock, stock and barrel, Iris! Do you want me to go down on bended knee? I will but it's not so great coming back up for an old dog like me," he said and began to follow through with that when Iris stopped him.
"Old dog, my foot, you're in your prime and the other night proved you'd be a bull in a china shop even though we didn't…er…you know. You'd have to lay odds on who'd survive the honeymoon so I know to take out more life insurance on you!" Iris exclaimed fervently and stopped him trying to kneel. Even in the tiki torches' firelight he could see her blush, finding it endeared her to him all the more.
"Iris, things will never be boring with you," he laughed heartily while he gathered her to him.
"You'll always have access granted," she murmured happily.
"I'll take that as a yes," his continued chortles rumbled in his chest against her cheek.
They continued to slow dance for several minutes before Jim led her out to the koi pond to sit in the yard swing as they had earlier. The fish were convinced the flames equated food and their snapping at the reflected firelight dancing on water's surface was causing a constant ripple effect. It made Brass chuckle at their efforts before a thought took hold.
"Hey, Iris," Jim said in a serious tone.
"Hey yourself," Iris said resting her head on his shoulder. She turned her face to his and he saw her quizzical eyes just like the little Scottish moor vixen.
"Seeing those ripples on the water makes me think about everything's that's happened since Warrick's death…Sara going away and then Gil…Catherine'll be great as supervisor and Nick as assistant…Greg'll get better and better as a CSI…Langston's new but he'll get there…Riley seems solid so far…and your coming from Dallas. How did it line up to happen the way it did? Coincidence? Gil always discounted that concept," Jim said and Iris could hear his sadness in how he recounted these events he'd weathered with the CSI team who would always be his family.
"I'm paraphrasing but for everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love…," Iris told him quietly.
"The Bible and the Byrds," Jim acknowledged.
"No matter what, like Alice Morse Earle said and I try to take it to heart: 'The clock is running. Make the most of today. Time waits for no man. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called the present'," She followed it with a soft kiss on his cheek and his arms tightened about her. "Where you go I'll go and where you stay I'll stay."
"Forever, right?" Jim whispered against her hair.
"Yes because within you I lose myself and with you I find myself wanting to be lost again. I read that on a greeting card and it stuck with me," Iris replied and nestled against him as they slowly swung back and forth watching the fire lit ripples.
"Sheesh, you're full of quotes tonight," he commented wryly.
"You inspire me, love," she chuckled.
A little later Jim heard a faint snore and looked down to see Iris was dozing with her head pillowed on his shoulder. The slow rocking of the swing had done her in. Brass found his thoughts turned to his best friend. He'd gotten a text recently from Gil who was still in Costa Rica with Sara; the picture attachment showed him with Sara who was holding some bizarre insect that looked like a B movie horror monster. They appeared tan and relaxed with wide goofy grins and looked totally nuts about each other. Gil had moved on and on his own terms, and he had someone he'd share the rest of his life with. Jim had found hope again and it had been right in front of him with a love born out of friendship. Iris would be his daily gift to treasure and though tomorrow be a mystery he wouldn't face it alone.
Jim found himself recalling when he'd watched the Stephen King movie "The Shawshank Redemption" one of the nights when he was sick and a line that had struck him said by Andy Dufresne of "Get busy living, or get busy dying." He looked up at the starlit sky above with the glare of the Vegas Strip in the distance. Gil had his priorities in order and now so did he, cradling the sleeping Iris closer to him while he slowly kept the swing in motion. They'd both chosen to get busy living.
X X X X X
I hope you have enjoyed this tale and again apologize for the drought between the Jim and Iris stories. Fear not, another is in the works!
Be well,
LadyKestrel