Page 103 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
‘I wish she’d told me. I wish…’ Another shuddering sigh. ‘I wish I hadn’t missed so much.’
Iris ran her hands over the broad planes of his chest. ‘I know.’ They were quiet for a while, Iris finding his heart and leaving her hand over its reassuring beat. ‘Just because Catethoughtshe was making the right choice, it doesn’t mean shewasmaking the right choice. You’re a good dad, Archer. And a good chef.’
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, whispering his thanks.
‘Thank God you didn’t have a spatula tattoo,’ she said, shifting back to teasing, wanting to ease Archer away from his sadness. ‘That’d be a much weirder name.’
He let out a surprised laugh as he turned and pulled her close again. ‘Or a whisk,’ he said, eliciting more giggles from her.
‘Although Knives would have been an awesome name,’ Iris added.
‘I’ll keep that in mind for the next one,’ he murmured as he kissed down her neck.
The next one.The next child he planned on having with … who, exactly? Her? Iris Lyn Fraser? Did Archer just ask her to carry his baby and give it a totally amazing and badass name like Knives?
Did she want that now? Did letting Olive sneak into her life open her up to the idea of having offspring of her own one day?
Was it possible for a uterus to do a somersault, because that might have been what Iris’s was doing, although whether it was in excitement or terror was still unclear. But now was not the time to untangle that mess of emotions.
Instead, she let Archer’s body and mouth and hands distract her as he peeled off her clothes, leaving them both bare in the middle of her room.
‘I haven’t been in here since you moved in,’ he said, backing her up to the bed, erasing all thoughts of kids and babies and motherhood. ‘It looks nice.’
She hadn’t done much. Added the comforter in varying shades of purple that Bex got her last year for Christmas to the bed, a few framed prints from local artists on the walls, and the bedside lamp she found at one of the Dream Harbor garage sales to her dresser. All the usual bedroom stuff, but all of that was in the periphery right now because Archer was leaning over her, pressing her into the mattress with his weight. His mouth on hers, his biceps bracketing her face.
‘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.’
He kissed her and kissed her and burned the words into her skin with every kiss and bite and lick.
‘At first it was just physical. You were so damn hot. I should have never hired you, Iris. I knew it was going to be a problem from day freaking one when you showed up in that flimsy tank top.’
He moved down her body, kissing and talking.
‘But then it was just you. It was you when you were happy and playful, and you when you were worried, and you when you were scared and when you needed me and when you didn’t, and when you play with Olive and when you kiss me and it’s just all of it, Iris.’
She still hadn’t said a word and the way he looked up at her she thought maybe she was already breaking his heart.
‘You don’t have to say it back,’ he said, his head resting on her stomach. ‘You don’t have to feel it. I just … this has never happened to me before and I wanted to say it.’
She ran her fingers through the soft waves of his hair, still not able to speak but wanting him to know she was there. He shifted again and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking until Iris whimpered, her grip tightening in his hair.
And finally, all her feelings for this man collided, the fun and the fear and the comfort and the lust and the friendship. And it was scary, but it was perfect.
‘I love you, too,’ she whispered.
His gaze shifted to hers even as he kept her nipple between his lips. He licked her once more before letting go.
‘You do?’
‘I’m pretty sure.’
He sighed against her damp skin and she shivered.
‘I’ll take it.’
He moved his way back up her body and she spread her legs for him. He pressed into her slowly until she was filled with him. They both breathed out a sigh. He moved slowly, deliberately, taking his time with her and she liked it, liked this feeling of being pressed down, of being surrounded by him, of being held.
By the time his thrusts became sloppy and fast, she was so close it hurt.
