ChapterTwenty-Six
‘You okay, chef?’ Cyrus’s question broke Archer out of hisdaydream. His very not-appropriate-for-work daydream.
He cleared his throat. ‘Yes, fine.’
Cyrus smirked. ‘Really? Because you just covered that plate of pancakes with salad dressing.’
Archer looked down at the mess in front of him. ‘Shit.’ He dumped the ruined breakfast in the trash. ‘Can I get another batch?’
‘Yes, chef.’ Cyrus chuckled. ‘What’s got you so distracted?’
Not what,who. It had been two days since the kitchen-counter incident and Archer had not stopped thinking about Iris since. Her mouth and her heat and her sounds. Christ, her sounds, those gasps and moans were running on a loop in his head. An obscene soundtrack to his day. He’d barely spoken to her since, keeping Olive as a buffer between them during the day and quitting his night-time pancake-making in case she came out to join him. He didn’t know what he would do if she did.
He wanted Iris in too many ways now.
‘Nothing,’ he muttered, certainly not about to explain any of that to his cook.
‘Ah,’ Cyrus said with a knowing nod as he poured more batter onto the griddle. ‘It’s a woman.’
‘It’s not … that’s not it.’
The older man chuckled. ‘Okay, sure. You just ruined three plates this morning because you’re thinking about the weather.’
‘Just make the damn pancakes, chef.’
Cyrus shook his head with another laugh. ‘Yes, chef.’
‘Hey, chef, the mayor’s at table three. He wants to talk to you,’ Jess said as she came skidding through the double doors into the kitchen.
‘Slow down,’ Archer barked as he strode past her. Jess gave him a mock salute. ‘Cyrus, those pancakes!’ he yelled on his way out of the kitchen, knowing he was taking his shitty, frustrated mood out on his staff, but unable to stop himself. And now the mayor wanted to talk to him. If the man had one more note about his latest attempt at the sacred pancakes, Archer might snap completely.
HewantedIris. Bad. And in so many more ways than he should. And he didn’t know what to do about it and it was bringing out his asshole tendencies.
He took a deep breath before stopping at the mayor’s table. ‘Good morning, mayor. Everything all right?’
Mayor Kelly smiled up at him.
‘Hi, Archer,’ Hazel said from the other side of the table. ‘How’s Olive feeling?’
‘Hey, Hazel. Much better, thanks.’
‘We love the new pancakes, Archie,’ the mayor said, and Archer almost didn’t hate the nickname when it followed a compliment.
‘Wonderful.’
‘And the specials board was a great idea.’
Archer glanced at where he’d listed ‘Noah’s Blueberry Pancakes’ as today’s special. He’d done it on a whim, remembering that it was Noah who’d requested blueberry pancakes at the meeting.
‘Glad you like it, sir.’
The mayor waved away Archer’s politeness. ‘Call me Pete. Anyway, I’m sure the town will love this new idea.’
Dread started to seep into Archer’s gut. New idea?
‘People will love to see their name on the board and to try all the new pancakes.’
Was that his new idea? To make everyone’s suggestions and then name the pancakes after them…