The Strawberry Patch Pancake House (Dream Harbor, #4)

by Laurie Gilmore

To F for making me a mom and to V for keeping me on my toes ever since. You guys still aren’t allowed to read this one but thanks for all the inspiration.

‘They’re unpredictable, and I feel like they’re always plotting something. And why are they always so sticky?’

Olive hugged her stuffed wombat and grabbed the remote, flipping on her favorite thing to watch, baking competitions. A small flicker of something lit in Archer’s chest. Maybe she was his after all.

‘But Cate apparently thought you were okay, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.’ Archer leaned his head back against the doorframe, the evening sun warming his face. ‘She thought I was okay?’ ‘Actually, she never talked about you at all.’ He winced. ‘Ouch.’

‘The one thing she did say was she thought you were destined for bigger things. She didn’t want to stand in your way. Olive was her dream. She didn’t want to derail yours.’

Kaori studied him carefully before patting his shoulder. ‘It takes a village to raise a child and we’re that village.’ She held his gaze. ‘And we’re watching you.’ ‘Comforting,’ he said, dryly.

She had a trail of half-finished hobbies and partially read books long enough that she couldn’t see the end of it. She was good enough, but never perfect.

‘Shouldn’t you have a spatula or something tattooed on your arms?’ she asked. His eyebrows rose. ‘Shouldn’t I have what? Why would I?’ Iris shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Isn’t that like a chef thing? To have a lot of tattoos of kitchen tools and meat and stuff?’ ‘Meat and stuff?’ His mouth twitched, as though he was almost amused but refused to show it.

Archer was about to cut in that they hadn’t agreed on swimming lessons, but Olive’s face lit up at the suggestion and his heart just about gave out at the sight. Iris could teach her to sky dive if it made Olive look like that.

Archer cleared his throat. ‘I’m sure we can figure something out.’ Iris looked back up at Olive with a grin. ‘That’s dad talk for: if you ask enough times, I will totally give in and let you do it,’ she said with a wink and Olive’s eyes widened.

The man was dressed in a tight white undershirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, which, as far as Iris was concerned, was the same as a woman cooking in lingerie.

Was this a pepper-spray situation? Was it a pepper-spray situation if she liked that her new boss was staring at her legs? Maybe she should pepper spray herself.

And maybe Iris was a genius or maybe she was a crazy person, but between her insane accent and the fake tea and the stuffed guests and the homemade hats, Olive was loosened up enough to actually speak in his presence. He wanted to cry into his imaginary tea.

Between the accent and the hat, Archer was wondering if maybe she was a bit more Mary Poppins than he’d originally thought. But then he remembered her ass under that T-shirt and he thought maybe not.

‘I’m pretty sure half of dealing with kids is just tricking them into doing stuff.’

It was Iris’s turn to sigh in frustration. ‘Because Olive spent her whole life with her mom and now you’re like this big, intimidating man in her life.’ ‘I’m not intimidating.’ Iris rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, okay.’ ‘I didn’t … I mean, I’m trying … I don’t yell at her or anything.’ ‘You don’t have to yell, it’s your whole vibe.’ ‘My vibe?’ She sighed again. ‘Yes, your very intense vibe. Like the way you’re staring at me right now it’s as if you can see through to my bones or something. It’s unnerving.’

She was glad she’d trusted her gut. These two needed her and they needed each other, and she was helping bring them together. And just like Mary Poppins, once they didn’t need her anymore, she would just put up her umbrella and float right on out of here.

A few nights later, Iris was heading back to her room from the bathroom when she nearly collided with Olive in the dark hallway. ‘Olive! What are you doing up?’ The little girl didn’t answer; she just kept walking down the hall, her blankie trailing behind her. She had a vacant look on her face that reminded Iris way too much of a horror movie. Was her head about to start spinning on her neck?

‘Are you laughing?’ Her shoulders shook with the effort to hold it in. ‘Yes?’ she squeaked. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s kinda funny. She had us both totally freaked out.’ Archer shook his head, but that smile was creeping back on his face. ‘I think this is an “if you don’t laugh you’ll cry” moment,’ she said between giggles. ‘We are both in way over our heads here.’ Probably not something she should admit to her boss, but it felt better this way, that they were in this together, that they were going to figure out how to deal with Olive together.

Iris just glared at her before traipsing off to find Archer. It wasn’t hard. He was surrounded by half a dozen septuagenarians and most of the book club.

‘Probably. But I don’t think he’ll mind.’ She didn’t actually know that at all, but after Archer had licked her finger two nights ago, she’d been avoiding him. She didn’t really feel up for a chat about redecorating. Not when she’d been about to pour that entire bowl of batter over her head just so he would lick her everywhere else.

‘Do you really think that has worked for anyone in the history of the world?’ Hazel asked. ‘When has sex ever made things easier to walk away from?’ ‘When it’s really bad?’ Iris suggested. ‘So, you want to have sex with Archer because you think it will be really bad and you’ll be able to move on and work for him with no problem after that?’ Damn, Hazel and her damn reasoning. Iris should have tried this with someone else. What was Kira up to today? She made questionable choices all the time.

‘Okay, so I think you need to take sex off the table.’ Or do it on the table…

How on earth was she supposed to maintain friendly professionalism when the man looked at her like that? All that dark intensity aimed directly at her? It made her want to say ‘Yes, chef!’ and do anything he asked. Uh, oh. Danger, Iris! Danger!

Archer laughed again and she loved it. She wanted to eat that laugh with a spoon.

‘Sorry,’ Iris said between giggles. ‘I don’t think you’re a bad dad at all! I’m definitely a shit nanny, though. You should probably fire me.’ ‘Maybe. Then I could finally fuck you.’ Iris froze. Archer froze. They stared at each other until Iris started laughing again. ‘Oh my God, Archer. Did you really just say that?’

‘Okay, we’ll pretend that you don’t have the hots for me.’ ‘You have the hots for me, too,’ he said, pouring pancake batter into the pan. ‘So maybe I should quit so I can fuck you.’

Iris opened her mouth to thank her back, but she’d already hung up. It occurred to her that being a school nurse was up there with school bus driver as possibly one of the hardest jobs in the world, so she decided not to be insulted by the hasty hang up.

‘Of course I do,’ she said with a huff. ‘You’ve been feeding me food I’ve only dreamed about. You take care of your daughter in a way that does very confusing things to my insides. And the way your forearms look when you chop things … well, I want to lick them.’

Iris sighed. ‘You had me with those forearms, you didn’t have to be all sweet too.’ His mouth was on her neck again. ‘Can’t rely solely on these good looks.’

‘Yes,’ she said. And just because she liked to mess with him, even when she was vulnerable and needy in his arms, she added a ‘Yes, chef.’ Archer groaned and rocked his hips against her in a way that suggested maybe he was reconsidering his idea about taking his time, if only just for a second. ‘Christ, Iris. How am I going to go to work if I get hard every time I hear ‘Yes, chef’ now?’

‘I’m in love with you, Iris,’ he said, in between kisses, like it was normal, like they said it to each other every day, like it didn’t suck the air from her lungs to hear it said out loud. ‘I know it’s fast, and I know it’s maybe not what you wanted. But I do. I love you. I love every damn thing about you.’