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

by Laurie Gilmore

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.

His gaze returned to her face, hard and assessing. God, she could just imagine him in a kitchen shouting at his poor sous chefs like every chef she’d seen in the movies. Demanding perfection. Demanding precision. A small shiver ran over her skin at the thought of what it might feel like to please a man like that.

And then it hit her. Archer Baer, her potential new boss, was hot. And that was very bad news.

‘Do you like to swim?’ ‘I don’t know how to swim.’ ‘Then I’ll teach you.’ 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.

‘Bex…’ ‘Just take this. It will make me feel better.’ ‘What is this? Pepper spray?’ Bex grinned. ‘Yep. In case he gets fresh.’ ‘Gets fresh? Bex, what are you, eighty-five?’ She shrugged. ‘I should probably stop attending your classes for seniors.’ ‘Probably.’

Iris stood in her nearly empty apartment and couldn’t help but smile. She had people who loved her and a new plan. And if there was one thing Iris loved, it was a new start.

‘We are delighted to have such a talented chef in town. I’m sure you’ll get your footing soon enough.’ Archer forced a smile before stalking back to the kitchen. Get his footing? He was a world-renowned chef, for fuck’s sake. He had his footing. His footing was great. It was world-renowned.

Archer, her new boss and sexy chef extraordinaire, was staring at her legs, in his kitchen, in the middle of the night. 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.

‘You guys win. But then what are we going to call this guy?’ She pointed to the blue bunny. ‘Also Hoppy?’ Olive’s brow furrowed in thought and Archer had to bite down on a smile. ‘How about Mr. Blue?’ he suggested, and Olive’s face lit up. In his direction! ‘Yeah. Mr. Blue.’ Iris rolled her eyes, but she was also having trouble keeping the smile off her face. ‘You guys are the worst at this.’ Olive was on her feet now, too excited to sit anymore. ‘No, we’re the best at it.’ We, as though they were a team.

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.

‘Will you do the fancy-flip thing?’ ‘Fancy-flip thing?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow, trying and failing to not be thrilled that Iris wanted to watch him cook. For the first time in two weeks, he felt like he knew what he was doing, that he was in control. Like his real self was clicking back into place. ‘The thing where you flick the pan and flip the pancake without using a spatula.’ Archer flashed her a cocky smirk and flipped the pancake with just a flick of his wrist. Iris clapped and he felt like he could do anything.

‘Do you want kids?’ he asked. ‘God, no,’ she blurted out and then immediately felt awful for her reaction. ‘Sorry,’ she winced. ‘I mean, kids are wonderful, I just never really pictured myself as a mom… What about you?’ she went on, feeling braver in the dark. ‘Did you always want to be a dad?’ ‘God, no,’ he echoed her, with a wry smile, meeting Iris’s eye across the hall. ‘But here I am.’

septuagenarians

They stopped at the florist’s table. ‘Plenty of colors,’ she grinned up at him and his returning smile had her stomach flipping and her cheeks warming. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, his eyes still on her face and, damn, he was handsome out here in the light of day.

‘Archer.’ His name sounded like a plea. ‘Tell me to stop,’ he nearly begged. If she told him to stop, he would. He would step away and they could pretend he’d never done that, he’d never tasted her skin. ‘Tell me to stop, Iris and go back to your room.’ Another little whimper.

‘Hmm.’ He frowned, and to his shock, Iris reached up and pressed two fingers between his eyebrows. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘I’m smoothing out these aggressive forehead lines.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I think this will go better if you look less like you’re going to murder everyone.’ She took her fingers away and he wanted them back. He wanted them tugging on his hair, he wanted them digging into his back.

He slid into his seat next to Iris and she gave him a big smile. ‘Good job,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve appeased the mob. They’ll probably be nicer to you now.’ ‘Probably?’ he whispered back, taking the opportunity to lean closer to her. ‘I can’t make any promises. If you serve those buckwheat pancakes again, they’ll string you up in the town square.’

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.

Iris smiled. ‘It’s not red, anyway. It’s strawberry blonde.’ ‘Oh, excuse me for not knowing the exact color of the hair causing plumbing issues.’ ‘You’re exaggerating!’ He laughed. ‘Maybe a little.’ His eyes roved over her before landing back on her face. ‘Nice to know you’re thinking about me while you’re in the shower, though,’ she teased. ‘Oh, Iris, you have no idea.’ The words were a low rumble, muttered under his breath as though maybe she wasn’t meant to hear them. But she had.

‘Don’t wake Olive! Isn’t one of us supposed to stay sober? For like emergencies?’ Archer paused in his mixing, considering this. ‘I might be a really bad dad.’ For some reason, probably tequila-related, Iris found this hilarious. Archer stared at her in surprise but then started laughing again, too. ‘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.’

AHHHHHHHHH

Which was not something he’d ever wanted or had time for in his life. But his life was different now. Maybe now he had time to care for a partner? He had a house and a kid and he worked totally reasonable hours and maybe that meant he could want other things, too? Maybe the untimely death of his old life was the opportunity for the birth of a new one?

‘I was totally just winging it. But I couldn’t have done it without you.’ Iris scoffed. ‘You had your dad, the pediatrician, and WebMD. I think you would have been fine without me.’ In fact, she’d done nothing today but panic and immediately call for back-up. ‘Fine.’ He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to do it without you.’ Oh, damn, damn, damn. Danger, Iris!

But she was full and exhausted from this stressful day and between the food and the wine and Archer’s dimple, she had been lulled into a cozy contentment she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Was this why people wanted a partner? This feeling at the end of a rough day that they’d survived something together?

He’d been staring at the screen for the past forty-five minutes but if asked, he could not tell you a damn thing about this movie. He could tell you that Iris was wearing a tank top and yoga pants and that her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and that she smelled like vanilla and that she’d made happy sighing noises as she ate the dinner he’d made her and that every time she giggled at something in the movie his heart constricted. And that he was absolutely losing his mind being this close to her and not touching her.

This could be it. They’d gotten the forbidden-sex thing out of their systems and he could let the whole thing go. Move on. He should probably even look for a new nanny. And kids were resilient, right? Olive would be okay. She had him. And he was proud of that. Proud that he was here for her. They’d get through Iris’s departure together. Or… He could take Iris up on her offer to keep her company later. It took him exactly three seconds to decide on choice number two. He didn’t know what Iris wanted in the long run, but if there was an inkling of a chance that she wanted him, then he had to take it.

She loved it when he laughed. Loved that he was having fun with her, that he wasn’t stressed about work or his daughter in this moment. See, things could be simple between them. She could make him smile and he could make her come and everything would be great. And normal. Par for the course for Iris.

He kissed her and she stirred in her sleep. ‘Iris,’ he whispered. ‘Wake up.’ She frowned, a little crease forming between her eyebrows, but didn’t open her eyes. ‘Why? Don’t you have the day off?’ ‘I do. But I need your consent before I go down on you.’

He’d been worried at first about taking days off, but Gladys had insisted that he have one day off a week to spend with his family. Work, life balance she’d called it and now he finally understood. He finally wanted that. He didn’t need to be in a kitchen every day of his life. He didn’t need to be striving and striving all the time. He could be home cooking for the people he loved. Loved. The word thundered through him.

‘Now, mushrooms or peppers in your omelet?’ ‘Both.’ ‘You got it.’ Mushrooms, peppers, his whole damn heart. She could have all of it.

Iris knew how to be part of a family. So if she decided she wanted more with Archer, if she decided she wanted to join his family, she could do it. Even if she was still a little bit terrified.

The waves lapped quietly at the shore, the moon hanging low over the water. ‘This is one of my favorite spots,’ she said, tipping her head onto his shoulder. ‘It’s a good spot.’ Any place where Iris rested her head on him was a good spot.

At the moment, she was pressed up against the wall outside her bedroom, with Archer’s mouth on her neck and she only knew her name was Iris because Archer kept murmuring it against her skin.

How could she possibly claim it was just physical, when she very clearly liked this man. She still wasn’t really sure how it had happened. Somewhere in between the pancakes and the pasta and the kissing and the talking, she’d maybe fallen in love with him.

‘So why an olive branch?’ Archer shrugged and Iris watched his shoulders bunch and flex. ‘I was headed to Italy. I guess I thought I was being clever.’ ‘So, you got this before you left?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You had it when you slept with Cate?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And then she named your baby Olive?’ ‘Maybe? I don’t really know; it could just be an odd coincidence. Is it weird?’ ‘That the woman you were hooking up with named the baby you didn’t know you had after a tattoo you have on your ass? Nope. Not weird at all.’ Archer laughed.

‘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.’

When she finally came down, Archer smiled up at her. ‘Again.’ Iris shook her head. ‘I can’t.’ ‘You can. Give me another one, sweetheart.’ Okay, maybe she really did love this man.

‘Her boots!’ Iris said, watching in dismay as Olive’s muddy boots got dirt all over Archer’s shirt. But when she looked up, Olive and Archer were grinning at her with matching dimples and the boots didn’t matter, the shirt didn’t matter, her own doubts didn’t matter. Maybe it was time. Maybe she was ready for this. ‘Dad, hold Iris’s hand again so she doesn’t get lost,’ Olive instructed. He looked at her, the question clear on his face, so Iris nodded and grabbed his hand and they marched off to the puppet show. Together. As a family.

But it was a different realization that forced her to sit. A realization that struck her so hard it felt like her entire world had flipped upside down. Iris didn’t have a stomach bug. Of course she didn’t. Olive wasn’t even sick. And a stomach bug didn’t make you want to throw up only in the morning. And it didn’t make your boobs hurt. And it didn’t make you weirdly emotional. And a stomach bug didn’t make you skip your period. Iris was an idiot. And she was pregnant.

I fuckin knew it!!!!!

Do you want to continue with the pregnancy, Iris? Because you have options.’ All three women were looking at her now. She had options, thank God. She didn’t have to keep this pregnancy if she didn’t want to.

Archer had done her hair. He’d picked out that outfit. He’d bought Olive that cookie. And Iris had missed all of it. She thought she would suffocate from the longing and that was before she made the mistake of looking up. Archer. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to die here in the self-help section. How ironic.

When all he really needed to do was to perfect his chicken-nugget recipe and feed it to the people he loved most in the world. ‘Is it ready?’ Olive asked. ‘It’s ready.’ Archer carried their plates to the dining room and the girls followed him. His girls.

THE STRAWBERRY PATCH PANCAKE HOUSE Pancake house? Iris nearly burst out laughing. Archer caught her eye with a grin on his face. This man, this world-renowned chef was now the proud cook at a pancake house. ‘I picked the name!’ Olive said from her perch, and the crowd cheered. ‘Excellent name, Olive!’ Tammy called from her spot next to Kaori and the rest of the book club. ‘Thank you,’ Olive said, with a huge smile on her little face.

‘I’ll assume this is your best table,’ his dad joked, patting Archer on the back. ‘Of course. Only the best for my family,’ Archer said, and Iris let the word seep into her bones. His family. She was a part of it now and he was a part of hers.

It was the perfect, diner pancake. ‘How did you⁠—’ Archer’s grin grew. ‘Bisquick mix, with a splash of vanilla, cooked in far too much butter.’ ‘You used the mix?’ ‘I used the mix.’ Iris laughed. ‘Oh my God, Archer! You could have just listened to me from the start!’

‘Me and you will cook for Mommy and Owen.’ He definitely wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes when Olive called Iris Mommy for the first time, but he let them fall. They were happy tears. ‘I love that idea.’ Olive beamed. And that smile was worth so much more than any five-star review. Archer was the best chef in his kid’s eyes and that was enough for him. That was everything.