Page 100 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
Archer shook his head. ‘The last thing we need in this house is a pet.’
‘If she flutters those long lashes enough, you’ll get her one. You’d do anything for her, Arch.’Arch. The teasing was gone from her voice, replaced with a sweet tenderness that made Archer feel like his heart was too big for his ribcage. That little shortening of his name, something people did all the time, sounded like the sweetest endearment from her lips. Oh Christ, he had it bad.
He cleared his throat. ‘I’d do a lot. But I draw the line at bunnies.’
Iris lifted her head and turned toward him on their sun-warmed rock. She looked beautiful in the moonlight, like a character out of Olive’s book of fairy tales.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. ‘I’m really glad I moved here,’ he said because it was true, so much truer than he ever thought it could be. How was it only a few months ago that he was scrambling to figure out a way to leave?
He felt Iris smile against his lips. ‘Me too.’ She kissed him, tangling her hands in his hair and he pulled her closer, wanting all of her but willing to settle for her sighs and whimpers and the feel of her soft curves beneath his fingers in the moonlight.
Later as they walked into the house, Iris whispered, ‘This was a nice date,’ with her fingers still twined in his. And her confession that it was a date felt like a win to Archer.
‘Yeah, it was. I’ll walk you to your room.’
Iris giggled. ‘You’ll walk me to my room?’
Archer smirked. ‘I have to make sure you get home safely.’
They snuck quietly down the hall, past Olive’s bedroom, peeking in to make sure she was fast asleep under a pile of stuffed animals. They stopped outside Iris’s room and she looked up at him and he wanted to take her to his room and kiss her everywhere, but he also wanted to show her he wanted more than that.
He dipped his head and she rose to meet him, her lips warm and soft on his. The kiss was slow and sweet and tasted like strawberries and chocolate. Iris sighed and pressed her body against his, every curve teasing him. And Christ, did Archer want to lean into it, but he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.
‘Goodnight, Iris.’
Her eyes were big and dark, her cheeks flushed.
‘What do you mean, “goodnight”?’
He smiled. ‘I mean, will you go on a date with me again tomorrow night?’
She stared at him for a minute and he thought maybe he’d overplayed his hand, but then she gave him a small nod.
‘Great, nine o’clock, the kitchen. I’ll see you then.’ He planted another chaste kiss on her lips before leaving her stunned in the hallway.
ChapterThirty-Two
Archer was wooing her.
Or something like that.
They’d met for their ‘dates’ every night for a week. Their dates, where Archer had cooked for her—all sorts of amazing dishes—and sometimes Kimmy had come to babysit and Iris had shown Archer more of her favorite places in Dream Harbor. They’d talked about everything under the sun, about growing up, about how they felt about their parents, about Olive, about the way they thought their lives would go, about how maybe that’s changing, and they kissed, God, how they kissed, slow and sweet and delicious. Those kisses made Iris weak, they made her unable to think and her knees feel like jelly.
And it was really freaking nice.
She was having a hard time remembering why she was worried about this whole situation in the first place. What could possibly be a bad idea about letting an insanely talented chef cook for you and then letting him kiss you until you forget your own name? It sounded like an amazing idea, actually.
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.
‘We’ve been dating for a week now,’ she said, her voice breathy and far away.
‘I know,’ Archer said, his teeth grazing her throat.
‘I think we should sleep together. Again, I mean.’
Archer pulled back just enough so she could see his face in the dim light of the hallway. ‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah, don’t you? I mean it’s been a wholeweek.’
