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‘I still want a rematch,’ he said, shooting a fake glare at Olive.

Olive grinned.

‘I’ll see if we can arrange that,’ Iris said with a laugh. ‘But during the daytime and with permission, right Olive?’

Iris earned herself a scowl for that, but she ignored it and steered Olive out the door.

‘Bye, Olive!’ Ivy and Cece called from the doorway.

‘Bye, girls!’ Iris tugged Olive back under the umbrella from where she’d scooted out into the rain to wave to her new friends.

Time to go home and face Archer.

And act like he was nothing but her boss.

ChapterEighteen

‘Why does it smell like wet paint in here—’ Archer stopped dead in the doorway of Olive’s room, a scowl etched on his face.

Oh, right, Iris had forgotten to mention the whole room-painting idea. She winced. ‘We’re just doing a little makeover.’

‘A makeover?’

‘Yeah! And I’m going to have a sleepover in Iris’s room tonight while it dries,’ Olive told him over her shoulder while moving her little roller up and down the wall. Iris had gotten the room prepped while Olive was at school and the two had been painting all afternoon, although Olive hadn’t really been pulling her weight with that tiny roller, and Iris’s arms were tired. She brushed a stray hair from her face with her forearm, not wanting to use her painty fingers. She was not a neat painter. Most of her overalls and seventy-five percent of her skin was splattered in buttercup yellow.

‘I hope that’s okay,’ she said with an apologetic smile.

Archer glowered from his position in the doorway. ‘Can I speak with you for a minute?’

Iris glanced at Olive, and the little girl just shrugged as if to say Iris was on her own with this one. ‘Thanks a lot, kid,’ Iris muttered as she shuffled after Archer, down the hall and out into the kitchen, fully prepared to be scolded for not checking with him first about the paint. She should have. She knew that. But it was hard to check in when she was avoiding him like the plague. A very sexy plague.

‘I think I owe you an apology,’ he said.

Iris blinked. ‘You do?’ Well, that was not what she was expecting.

‘Yes, I do. About the other night…’

Oh, that. That thing Iris was very purposefully not thinking about. About Archer’s tongue on her skin and all his intense energy focused directly on her, like he wanted to put her on the counter and use that tongue in so many more interesting ways. She definitely hadn’t gotten off in the shower this morning thinking about it.

That would have been inappropriate.

‘I shouldn’t have done that. It was … I was … I don’t know what I was thinking. I apologize.’

‘Oh.’

He ran a hand roughly through his hair like he was frustrated with himself. ‘Maybe this isn’t working out. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I obviously did…’

‘I’m comfortable! Very comfortable. Really, no need to apologize.’

‘Iris.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Iris, I licked you.’

Oh, God, why did he say that out loud?! The wordlicksounded absolutely filthy from his stern mouth.

‘It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Or it doesn’t have to be. We can just forget it.’ She blew the hair from her face, really wishing she wasn’t mostly yellow for this conversation.