Page 54 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
Annie flicked her gaze toward him with a sigh. ‘I would never say that and you know it.’
He shook his head, his mouth tipping into a cocky smirk.
‘Mac is a cook,’ she said, clearly leaving out any evaluation of said cooking. ‘So I thought you two should meet.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t just want an excuse to come over here and talk to me?’ Mac asked, leaning closer to Annie across the bar. Their eyes met, and even Iris could feel the heat.
‘I was just trying to be neighborly,’ Annie ground out.
‘I’m sure you were, darling.’
‘Don’t. Call. Me. Darling.’
Mac grinned.
They held each other’s stare for so long, Iris was considering slipping away with Archer before Annie and Mac either started kissing or someone got stabbed, but finally Annie broke first and looked away.
‘Do you two need a minute to…’ Make out? Murder each other? ‘Talk?’ Iris asked.
‘Of course not,’ Annie said briskly, like they hadn’t all just witnessed some sort of staring-contest foreplay situation. ‘I just thought these two would have something in common.’
Mac stood back to his full height and nodded to Archer.
‘Yeah, of course. I’m no world-renowned chef,’ he said, meeting Archer’s hand for a shake above the bar top. ‘But it’s nice to meet you.’
‘Hey, good food is good food,’ Archer said. ‘And right now, I’m not sure this town thinks my food is any good.’
Mac scoffed. ‘Don’t worry about it. This place loves to fuck with people. They’ll calm down, eventually.’
‘They don’t like to fuck with people,’ Annie said. ‘They just like to protect what makes Dream Harbor special.’
‘And crappy diner pancakes make Dream Harbor special?’ Mac asked.
‘Don’t speak ill of the pancakes!’ Iris hissed. ‘They’ll hear you!’ She glanced around at the crowded bar and Mac laughed.
‘Sorry, Iris. And no offense, man.’
‘None taken,’ said Archer. ‘I can’t even get them right anyway.’
‘You will,’ Iris said, running a hand down his arm, only realizing when she reached his wrist that she was tracing the muscles she was so fond of staring at. She yanked her hand back. ‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’
Archer’s dark gaze was on her and she felt her cheeks heat from the attention.
Annie cleared her throat. ‘Do you two need a minute to…’ She raised an eyebrow in question with a knowing smirk on her face.
‘Nope. We don’t need a minute for anything,’ Iris said.
Mac just shook his head. ‘I gotta get back to work. It was nice to meet you, chef.’
‘Yeah, you too.’
‘Oh, is that Jacob and Darius? I have a bone to pick with them. Jacob!’ Annie called, starting to head across to him and leaving Archer and Iris alone. Or as alone as one can be in a crowded bar next to a table full of friends. But still.
At least Noah had brought over their drinks. She took a sip of her cider.
‘So,’ she said, flicking her gaze up to Archer’s face. He looked his usual handsome self tonight, a little bit disheveled, with his five o’clock shadow and his hair in messy waves that flopped over his forehead. For someone who ran an immaculate kitchen (from what Maribel had told her at yoga, Iris was right. Archer demanded perfection from his staff and the diner was spotless these days), his physical appearance was always a little bit messy. As though he spent all his effort on his work and that left little effort for himself.
The way she ran his house must make him crazy. It was rarely—if ever—clean when he got home from work. Olive was always alive but not always tidy or cute or happy. Most days, Iris still didn’t really know what her job entailed, but Olive hadn’t missed a day of school on her watch, and Iris had only forgotten to pack her lunch twice (she’d dropped it off for her, of course). But none of what she did for Archer and Olive was perfect or spotless or immaculate.
