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“She gets sidetracked.” My voice was low, my breath coming out in short bursts, throbbing finger forgotten.
“I’ll walk you.”
Despite his offer, it took us another few laborious breaths before we moved.
As soon as he stepped back, whatever had held me against him snapped, releasing me. I fought the urge to massage my aching chest. Instead, I turned and walked on wobbly legs into the house.
I snatched a towel along the way, wrapping myself up tight.
Archer followed on silent feet, his presence as comforting as it was confusing. Pushing my messy feelings to a corner of my mind to examine later, I went in search of Sofie.
She sat on a stool in the kitchen, watching Jacques light something on fire. “Again, again, again,” she chanted, clapping her hands. “Make them bigger.”
Loving having an audience, Jacques set the pan he’d used aside and put another banana in a fresh pan, dousing it in honey and rum, then lighting it on fire again.
“I hope you’re planning on eating all those bananas,” I said, sitting down on the stool next to her.
She grinned at me, her eyes lighting up when she saw Archer. “Hi, I’m Sofie.”
He looked uncomfortable at her attention, but at least he wasn’t running away. Yet. “Hi, I’m Archer.”
Sofie reached for the carafe sitting in front of her. “Do you want lemonade? Jack made the best lemonade I’ve ever tasted.”
If anyone else butchered his name like Sofie had just done, Jacques would storm out in a huff. But like everyone who met her, he had a soft spot for the lively girl.
Not giving Archer a chance to decline the offer, she poured him a glass and pushed it in front of him with an expectant smile. And not even Archer could be rude to her, so he took a sip of the lemonade, much to Sofie’s delight.
Pushing my empty glass in front of her, I tapped it. “What about me? Have you already forgotten about your favorite aunt?”
Filling my glass, Sofie shook her head. “Of course not. But Archer hasn’t tasted the lemonade before.”
A few minutes later, Jacques pushed a plate in front of us with his interpretation of pizza. It was the fanciest pizza I’d ever seen, the base homemade, the cheese flown in from France.
Archer poked at the base, then tentatively took a small bite. Sofie was too busy devouring her own slice to notice Archer’s hesitation. But once he’d had a taste, he ate his slice as quickly as we did, not leaving a crumb behind.
Without a word, Jacques put another one in front of us. We finished it in silence, too busy chewing.
Archer was the first to finish, leaning back in his chair with a groan. “Thanks, Jacques. That was amazing.”
I nearly choked on my lemonade when Archer thanked our chef. It shouldn’t surprise me. He only seemed to have misplaced his manners with me. He was polite to everyone else.
“And for dessert, we have caramel ice cream with flambéed bananas.”
It might have sounded simple, but the dessert was anything but. He pushed a masterpiece in front of each of us. I took a bite, the flavors exploding on my tongue, making me moan in pleasure.
I’d always loved anything sweet. And there was nothing better than Jacques’s creations.
Our chef hummed happily behind me, the only other sound in the kitchen the scraping of Sofie’s spoon trying to get the rest of her ice cream out of her bowl.
I smiled at her obvious enthusiasm before my gaze fell on Archer. He wasn’t eating; instead he stared at his hands resting on the counter, his expression shuttered once again.
Leaning closer so Jacques couldn’t hear us, I pointed at his bowl. “You should try it. It’s amazing.”
He lifted his head, his gaze falling first on Sofie, who was now looking at him expectantly, and then me.
I wish I could read him better.
He picked up his spoon, forcing a smile on his face when he noticed Sofie’s attention. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
