Page 73 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

But not yet.

ChapterTwenty-Four

No one was home when Archer got back from work the following Wednesday. Olive had been feeling much better and returned to school this week, and he wondered where she and Iris were. Sometimes Iris took her to the bookstore or the pool to practice her swimming, but she usually texted Archer about where they would be.

He dropped his stuff by the door and made his way into the kitchen when he heard Olive’s now familiar giggle from the backyard. It still made his heart swoop in his chest to hear it.

When he walked out into the yard, Olive jumped up from her seat on the ground.

‘Surprise!’ she yelled, leaping into his arms.

‘Wow! What is all this?’ he asked.

‘A picnic!’ Olive squirmed out of his arms as quickly as she’d flung herself into them and led him to the blanket set up in the center of the lawn. After a month of rain, the sun had finally graced them with its presence and the grass was a deep green in the late afternoon sunshine. Everything smelled fresh and new. Whoever had rented the house before them had apparently planted perennials and the yard was lined with flowers, first daffodils and now tulips. They even had a cluster of irises along the fence.

The beautifully human Iris sat smiling up at him.

‘Welcome home,’ she said. And it felt true. It felt like home when he was here with the two of them. What a wild thought coming from the man who not even two months ago had to stand on the front step giving himself pep talks before he went in.

‘Iris said it was the perfect day for a picnic because it’s the first really warm day of spring and she found local strawberries at the market and we made strawberry shortcakes!’

‘Wow,’ Archer said with a laugh trying to absorb all the information Olive had just unloaded as she danced around the blanket.

‘Yep. We cooked for you today, chef,’ Iris said with a wink and thank God Olive was here because his desire to lean Iris back on this blanket and kiss her everywhere was very strong today. She smirked at him like she knew.

‘Well, this all looks delicious.’ He couldn’t help it if his gaze wandered from the picnic feast to Iris’s long legs and soft curves. An equally delicious blush worked its way up her neck. He rarely saw Iris in anything other than her PJs or her work uniform of yoga pants and a tank top.

But today, on this gorgeous sunny May day, Iris was wearing a navy blue dress with strawberries and white polka dots. Slender straps grazed her shoulders, and her hair was wrapped in a bun on top of her head, exposing the long line of her neck. The rose-gold strands of her hair glinted in the sunlight.

She looked positively edible.

But his daughter was here, and she was so excited to show him what she had made, and Archer was thankful for the distraction because he could no longer be trusted to make good and responsible decisions around Iris Fraser. He probably never could.

‘Are you going to tell me how you made it?’ he asked, taking one of the plates of strawberry shortcake. The plate was white and dainty and covered in little blue flowers. Archer wondered where they’d come from.

‘Iris said not to tell you.’

‘Oh really. Why is that?’

Iris rolled her eyes. ‘Because you’re going to get all chef-y on us and belittle our efforts.’

‘I would never! And these look delicious.’ There were plenty of ways to make strawberry shortcake, but they’d gone the traditional New England route: sweet biscuits layered with whipped cream and juicy strawberries. He cut his fork through and got the perfect bite, equal parts biscuit, fruit and cream.

He widened his eyes for full dramatic effect. ‘Liv, these are amazing.’ He’d taken to shortening her name and it felt good. It felt like they were becoming a real family.

His daughter beamed. ‘They are?!’

‘Oh, yeah. You did a good job.’

‘Well, Iris helped with the oven part.’

‘Just doing my duty as the sous chef,’ Iris said with a grin.

‘So, you’re really not going to tell me your secret?’ he asked.

Olive glanced at Iris and Iris shrugged. ‘I guess you can tell him. There’s enough secret recipes in his life already.’

Archer chuckled. ‘Thanks for taking pity on me.’