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‘You’re a good dad.’

‘I’m trying.’

‘And a good chef.’

‘I know.’ The smirk was back and Iris leaned forward to kiss it off his lips. He kissed her back slowly and tortuously until she was dizzy with it.

‘I wish you didn’t have to help cook,’ she said when he finally pulled away, his fingers still tangled in her hair.

‘I know.’

‘But I’ll see you at home.’

His smile grew at that.

‘Yeah, I’ll see you at home.’

‘I love you, Archer.’

‘More than pancakes?’ he asked, glancing at her empty plate.

‘Don’t push your luck,’ she said, patting his shoulder in consolation. His laughter trailed behind him as he strode back to his kitchen.

Epilogue

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Archer Baer had just become a father. Again. And still not in any way he’d expected.

He’d expected to have time to drop Olive off at her grandmother’s house and to arrive in plenty of time at the hospital to get Iris settled in her room. He’d expected to have their birthing playlist on and to make sure Iris had her cozy socks and plenty of ice chips. He’d expected to follow all the coaching pointers he’d learned from their birthing classes.

Archer had a plan this time.

He washerethis time.

He was in control this time.

But the joke was on him once again. His son had other plans.

Iris went into labor two weeks early, right in the middle of her seniors aerobics class—much to the delight and excitement of her students. It was Janet and Carol who had driven her to the hospital while Archer raced across town from the pancake house to get there. Olive, who was at school, had to be picked up by Hazel, their emergency contact, and brought back to stay at her house since Archer’s parents were not expected in town for another two weeks.

Due to the ice rain that had started falling and the flooding on Main Street, Archer had barely made it to the hospital in time. By the time he slid into the labor and delivery room, hustled Carol and Janet out, and grabbed onto Iris’s hand, the baby was crowning.

And then it had been all her.

All his beautiful, strong Iris, bringing the baby into the world in a screaming fury that scared the absolute shit out of him.

She looked up at him now, her sweaty hair pushed off her forehead. The baby, their son, slept on her chest.

‘Well, that was wild,’ her voice was hoarse and tired.

‘I’m sorry I nearly missed it.’

‘It happened so fast,’ she said. ‘Everyone says the first baby never comes that fast.’

He leaned over, kissing her forehead. ‘You did so good, sweetheart. You were amazing.’

Iris hummed softly in thanks. ‘You should hold him,’ she said.