Page 69 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
‘It was. Some of the best seafood I’ve ever had.’
‘You know,’ Iris said, the teasing tone back in her voice because she just couldn’t seem to help herself. ‘The Pasta Palace in Northville is hiring. Since you have so much experience with Italian food, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you.’
Archer looked at her like she’d suggested they eat out of the trash and not that he work for a popular Italian restaurant chain. ‘That place doesn’t serve Italian food.’
Iris bit back her laughter, but she was struggling to keep a straight face. ‘Are you sure?Theyseem to think that they do.’
His expression darkened. ‘I don’t knowwhatthat food is.’
Iris giggled. ‘You have to admit, though, people go bananas for those breadsticks.’
‘I don’t have to admit anything.’ He took a small mug and scooped pasta water into the pan with the garlic and the oil. Iris watched with interest. She was going to accuse him of being a food snob, but it all looked and smelled so good, that mocking him just seemed absurd now. He strained the spaghetti and tossed that in the pan, too, coating the pasta with the oil and garlic. Iris’s stomach grumbled in anticipation.
He took two plain white bowls from the cabinet and twirled a perfect nest of pasta in each bowl, sprinkling some fresh parsley and parmesan cheese on each portion. Iris wanted to crawl inside and live in that pasta nest forever.
‘That looks so good,’ she nearly moaned. Damn this man and his pasta-making skills! Resisting his adorable dad-ness was one thing, but serving up a big ol’ bowl of carbs and cheese was going to be another thing altogether.
‘Buon appetito.’
‘Jesus, man. Just give me the food and cut that out.’
Archer smirked and slid the bowl across the island.
As expected, the meal was incredible. Like insanely good. Like so good that an hour ago Iris was planning her ‘I quit’ speech and now she was considering declaring her undying love for this man and his food. It was concerning.
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. Maybe not since those days in Josie’s kitchen, watching her neighbor cook while she chatted to her about everything from her mom’s latest boyfriend to the bike she wanted for her birthday.
Was this why people wanted a partner? This feeling at the end of a rough day that they’d survived something together? She had to admit it was nice. She’d always had her mom and her aunt and her cousin. She collected friends like she collected new careers. But maybe having a partner would be different.
Sitting here, laughing and drinking with Archer. Decompressing after taking care of a sick kid all day, it was … it was something she could maybe see herself wanting.
Someday.
Not today.
Because today he was still her boss. And today she didn’t want to hurt Olive. And she still wasn’t convinced she’d ever want this responsibility full-time.
Today was the most worried she’d been since the time they were nine and Bex had flipped over the handlebars of her bike and bashed her face on the sidewalk. Iris had never run home faster, tears streaming down her face the whole way, screaming for her mother to come help.
‘Today was rough,’ she said, pushing away her empty plate.
‘Yeah, but we figured it out.’ They were in their usual positions, Iris on her stool on one side of the island and Archer standing on the other side, leaning against the counter behind him. Per usual, his arms were across his chest.
She wished he was closer. She shouldn’t but she did. She wished he would lean across the island like he had the last time, the time when he’d sucked her finger into his mouth. She wished he would do more things like that.
She shouldn’t. But she did.
‘I should get to bed.’
‘Okay.’ Archer was watching her, studying her with dark eyes like he knew what she wished and that he did, too. But he didn’t budge. Just held himself still, only his eyes moving to follow her down from her stool.
‘Thanks for dinner.’
‘Anytime.’ His voice was low and deep, vibrating through her. It was clear that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But still, he didn’t move.
He was protecting himself. He was protecting Olive.
A one-night stand with the nanny wouldn’t help either of them. And in the end it wouldn’t help Iris either.
