Page 60 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

This was not happening. He didnottake his nanny to bed. He very specifically had been fighting against this outcome since day freaking one. How did this happen?! Andwhatexactly did happen?

He was comforted to realize that he still had his pants on and from what he could tell, Iris was at least wearing a shirt. That had to be a good sign, right? Or at least a sign that things hadn’t gone too far.

Who was he kidding? Having Iris in his bedroom under any circumstances was too far. Damn it. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to replay the night back. The meeting had gone relatively well. Then Iris had convinced him to come out to the bar. He nearly groaned out loud remembering what he’d said about his shower fantasies. And that wasbeforehe was drunk. What the hell did he do after he’d had too many of those shots Iris’s friends kept buying?

Little bits and pieces of the rest of the night flashed through his head. Iris grinning at him over her drinks, Iris in a dance-off with a group of older ladies, Iris giggling in the back seat of the Uber on the way home. Okay, so the memories were essentially a slide show of Iris being irresistible.

He remembered paying a bemused looking Kimmy when they got home and then… Christ, did he make Iris pancakes? She stirred next to him, and he could feel the exact moment when she woke up. Her entire body stiffened.

‘Uh oh,’ she muttered into the pillow, not bothering to lift her head.

‘Yeah, uh oh.’

‘Shit.’

‘Double shit.’

‘Archer, what did we do last night?’

Her arm was still draped across his body, her strawberry scent still warm and inviting. God, he wished she could stay. He wished he could roll her over and do everything he was apparently too drunk, thank God, to do last night.

But he couldn’t. They couldn’t.

Olive was doing well. Her therapist said the steady environment he was providing at home was a big help to her healing process. So what would happen if he slept with Iris and things inevitably got messy between them? What would happen to Olive? She would lose another person close to her. He couldn’t do that to her just to satisfy his own misguided lust.

He ran a hand down his face. ‘I’m pretty sure we didn’t do anything but eat late-night pancakes and fall asleep next to each other.’

And I may have licked the sweat from your neck…

Iris rolled over, taking her arm and her warmth with her.

‘Okay,’ she said almost to herself. ‘Okay, that’s good.’

‘Look, Iris…’

‘Please don’t apologize. I promise you it was equally my fault. Again.’

She sat up and leaned against the headboard with a groan. When he looked up at her she was rumpled from sleep. Her hair had come loose from her braid and was in a tangle around her face. Crease marks from the pillow covered one cheek. She looked like a hot mess. Like an adorable hot mess he wanted to tuck back into his bed and bring a glass of water and some Advil to.

And for a split second he had a vision of Iris that wasn’t just as a quick fling, but as someone who stayed. Someone who could be there for him and for his daughter. Someone he could take care of.

Which was not something he’d ever wanted or had time for in his life. But his life was different now. Maybe now he had time to care for a partner? He had a house and a kid and he worked totally reasonable hours and maybe that meant he could want other things, too? Maybe the untimely death of his old life was the opportunity for the birth of a new one?

One with Iris in it.

And he realized it was the first time he’d thought about staying here with Olive that hadn’t sent him into a spiral of disappointment and panic at his aborted goals.

‘Town meetings do not usually end that way,’ she said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Last night was a bit of an anomaly. I blame cabin fever. April is always a little nutty around here.’

‘Well, thank God for that. I don’t know how this town would survive if everyone always drank that much.’

Iris gave him a weak smile. ‘Sorry, I wormed my way into your bed.’

‘I don’t think that’s how it happened.’

‘Oh, it definitely was.’

He remembered his hand in Iris’s, her tugging him down the hall, leading him into his bedroom. Did they kiss? Did he touch her beyond that ill-advised moment in the kitchen?