Page 80 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

It wasn’t the worst idea, actually. And maybe it would get everyone off his back about the damn original recipe.

‘You know,’ Pete went on. ‘I had a dream that this diner was actually a pancake house.’

‘You dreamt about the diner?’

Hazel huffed a laugh. ‘He dreams about all kinds of things.’

Pete shrugged. ‘I’m usually very accurate.’

Archer glanced between father and daughter and tried to figure out if they were serious. It was impossible to tell so he just nodded.

‘I will keep that in mind.’

Pete smiled. ‘Wonderful. And how are things working out with Iris?’

Heat rushed to Archer’s face. Did the mayor somehow know what he did to his nanny on his kitchen counter?

‘Is she working out as Olive’s nanny?’ The mayor prompted when Archer just stood there like an idiot.

‘Oh … uh … yeah. Yes. She’s a great nanny.’

‘Glad to hear it. I’m really happy you’re settling in here in Dream Harbor.’

Archer nodded dumbly. Settling in. Here. In Dream Harbor. That was what he was doing, of course. Settling in and wanting Iris to settle in with him.

‘Right.’ He cleared his throat again and Hazel gave him a little smile that said she knew everything he was thinking, which was highly alarming. ‘I should get back to the kitchen.’

‘Of course! Big breakfast crowd to feed.’

‘See you later.’

‘Bye, Archer!’ Hazel called as he turned and made his way back through the crowded dining room and into the kitchen.

He needed to do something about Iris and fast. He didn’t even recognize himself anymore. So distracted by a woman that he was screwing up orders, that he was fantasizing about things he’d never wanted in his life.

But what he didn’t know was if he should push her away or pull her closer.

* * *

Iris was teaching an aquatic aerobics class, and she was pretty sure she was doing the movements correctly and calling the instructions loud enough and that she was totally tricking everyone into thinking she wasn’t thinking about Archer’s hands and lips and what he could do with those hands and lips and?—

‘Iris?’

Her name echoed through the pool room. Her playlist had ended.

She blinked to find a group of half a dozen seniors staring at her. Right, okay. So maybe she wasn’t doing the best job of not being distracted.

‘Sorry, ladies. Um, let’s just cool down.’

‘No way,’ Marrisa piped up. ‘What’s got you so dreamy-eyed, Iris?’

Uh oh. The ladies sensed drama. And they loved drama. And over the years she’d set an unfortunate pattern of spilling the tea to her beloved students, but this wasn’t some fling. This drama was about Archer.

And for a million concerning reasons that felt different.

‘It’s nothing, really.’ Iris dunked her shoulders and lifted her feet out of the water, using her hands to stay afloat.

‘Mmm-hmm, sure,’ said Carol, swimming closer. ‘And that’s why you stopped telling us what to do about ten minutes ago and we’ve all just been flopping around like fish in here until the songs stopped.’