Page 140 of Shots Fired

He steps aside, and Felicity rests her palm across her daughter’s stomach.

“Typical,” she moans. “Everyone performs for my husband, but the second I get a look in, it goes—” She cuts herself off, eyes darting to Darcy’s bump. “Wow. She really is incredibly active, isn’t she? Just like her mumma.”

She turns over her shoulder to look at Kendra. “Fair warning though: this one here”—she points at Jack—“slept through the majority of my pregnancy, including all of the scans. It was even a struggle to work out if we were having a boy or a girl—he wouldn’t move to show us.”

Don’t say it, Archer. Don’t say it.

“I mean, I guess body parts have to be large enough to show up on the monitor in the first place.”

Jack turns to look at me, one brow raised aggressively. “Divorce this asshole, Darcy. We don’t need that kind of negativity in the family.”

“I can vouch that?—”

“Yes, yes. I don’t want a full-blown discussion about my center’s dick size,” Jon quickly interrupts Kendra, shuddering at the thought.

Laughter fills the room as Kendra, Jack, and Felicity all help clear the table and serve dessert when my eyes briefly connect with Mum’s.

She leans forward, both elbows braced on the table in front of her, chin resting in one palm. And when she flicks me a single wink, I know exactly what she’s saying—she’s proud of me, proud that I went after the girl I wanted and made her mine.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

DARCY

Years ago, Mum once said to me that life can deal us a set of cards we least expect. It’s what we do with them that really matters. We can either fold or make the best of what we have.

I feel like the past few months have taught me the true meaning behind that statement. Sitting next to Archer Moore, my husband and father of our eighteen-week unborn baby, was not how I anticipated life in New York to play out for me.

It was in the stars though.

When I moved to Brooklyn, I was hurting, even if I didn’t let it show. I was scared to embark on a new career after graduating and pursue my dreams in editing. Even if I pretended like I’d gotten my shit together, I felt like I had anything but.

I kept reminding myself that several years ago, when I was much younger, Mum had done something similar when she stayed in Seattle and made difficult decisions to go after the life she wanted to live. In the end, she made some of her greatest friends and met a husband most women could only dream of having by their side.

To some extent, it feels like I’ve followed in my mum’s footsteps. I always saw her time in Seattle as a second act in her life, and while I’m younger than she was when she met Jon, I can’t help but feel a similar kind of way.

It’s easier to try and control every element of your life because that way, the days seem safer, more predictable, and fear of the unknown doesn’t creep in. But when you play it safe, you risk missing out on undiscovered chapters or dismissing people who couldn’t be more perfect for you and the life you truly want to live.

Sure, I have dreams of opening my own editing business one day. The friends I have around me in Collins, Kendra, and Jenna are real-life inspirations to me as they kill their respective careers daily.

But right now, in this moment, driving to my friend’s birthday party with my husband’s palm resting on my rounding stomach, is exactly where I want to be. I wouldn’t change the cards I’m holding because this hand is perfect.

“You make me nervous when you’re quiet, Doll.” Archer glances across at me as we head toward the private bar Sawyer has booked out. “I don’t think your mind ever stops, does it?”

“Not really,” I reply as he pulls into a designated parking spot for the valet.

Placing the car in park, he reaches across, cupping my cheek in his warm, rough palm. “You know you can let those brain cells rest a little now that you have me. We’re a team, and we will work everything out together.”

I place my hand over his, feeling my shoulders relax a fraction. “The DARCher bubble never really burst, did it?”

Archer studies me with intrigue. “DARCher bubble? I’ve never heard that before.” He leans across and sets a kiss against my lips. “But I love it. Our bubble never burst when we allowed others into our secrets, Darcy. It only made us stronger. Ipromise there will always be parts of us and our life that only we know.”

“Like what?” I ask, my heart rate picking up as he kisses my jaw.

“Like the way you chew the tip of your pencil when you’re thinking through a puzzle. Or the way you fold your foot behind the other when you’re standing at the sink.”

Another kiss, and I can feel my pulse as it throbs.

“How I knew you wanted me to be a pussy preventer that day with Harry at the bar. And how I punched a guy last August when he was all over you one second and chatting shit about you the next.”