Page 24 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
‘Did I wake you?’ he asked as she settled herself at the stool across from him on the island. She was wearing a pair of shorts under her T-shirt tonight, thank God.
‘No, I was just having trouble falling asleep.’
‘Is your room not comfortable? Because I could…’
‘No, no, the room is fine. Very comfortable.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, just couldn’t sleep.’
‘Hmm.’ He went back to sifting the flour into his bowl. Maybe the pancakes weren’t fluffy enough.
‘What are you making?’
‘Pancakes.’
‘You’re making pancakes at midnight?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why?’
He let out an exasperated sigh, but only found Iris smiling at him when he looked up. She was beautiful when she smiled.
No. Not allowed.
‘The diner patrons aren’t happy with my changes to the menu.’
‘Oh, yeah that doesn’t surprise me. This town can be very stuck in its ways.’
‘Hmm.’
‘So why don’t you just go back to the old recipe?’
‘Because I don’t know it,’ he ground out, getting more frustrated the more they talked about it.
‘But you’re a chef.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you can’t figure out how to make pancakes?’
He dropped the whisk he was using into the bowl with a clatter. Iris flinched.
‘I can make pancakes just fine.’
‘So, the problem is…’
‘The problem is that the people in this town want them to taste exactly how they used to taste, and I don’t have the recipe and the old cook is gone and the rest of the staff won’t cooperate, and I just need to figure it out…’
He pressed his hands flat onto the counter, his head hanging between his shoulders. Iris laid her hand over his and stopped his spiraling thoughts. Her fingers were cool and comforting. She gave him a little squeeze before pulling her hand back again.
‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’
‘Why would you be sure about that?’ he asked, and he really wanted to know. Why on earth would Iris be sure about him doing anything? He’d done nothing but fail spectacularly since he got here.
She shrugged, her long braid sliding over her shoulder. ‘You seem like a guy who figures things out. You know,’ she gestured toward him, waving her hand in his general direction like she had when she’d been wondering about his tattoos. He felt his body light up, like she’d actually touched him. ‘Very competent and all that.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘Yep, super competent. A chef who can’t make pancakes and a dad who can’t get his kid to talk to him.’
‘She talked to you today.’
