Page 144 of Shots Fired

Minutes—albeit I don’t know how many—pass where all we do is make out and fuck each other slowly. The flush painting Darcy’s skin only grows deeper with every orgasm I give her until I really am at the point of zero return.

“I’m going to come.” My words are weak as I buckle under the intensity of her love, shooting deep inside my wife.

Darcy flops into my chest as we both come down from our joint high. She reaches a hand up, tugging on my chain and asking for my mouth. “I’ve got something I want to give you. I was going to wait until tonight, but I don’t think I can,” she confesses between kisses.

I push a few strands of damp hair away from her face. “I’m supposed to be the one who spoils you.”

As she pulls back to reach for the nightstand, my cock slips out of her, and immediately, I want back inside.

Fuck me, today is going to be epic.

“Yeah, well, suck it up, Thigh Boy.” She giggles, pulling a long black box from the drawer.

Darcy kneels in front of me, eyes sparkling with excitement just before she cracks the lid.

“I know you bought the last one for yourself, and I don’t want you to think this is in any way replacing it. But …” She trails off as I try and take in the yellow gold chain. “I figured it was time to buy you another. As a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

Taking the small golden dog tag between my fingers, I turn it around to see those exact words—How far you’ve come—along with,All my love, Darcy Doll, written underneath.

Without any more words exchanged, she sets the box down and plucks the chain from its black velvet cushion, dangling it between us.

“I’ve met three types of dads in this world.” She begins talking as she unclasps the chain and hangs it around my neck. “One I share DNA with, but rarely speak to since he can’t be bothered to get in touch.” She secures the clasp and takes my face between her hands. “Another who loves me like his own daughter and who, oftentimes, I wish were my blood father.”

I swallow down my emotions. “And the third type?”

She just smiles, eyes searching my face. “The third is his own unique brand—the kind who inks his daughter onto his body and treats his wife like an absolute queen. The kind of dad who has so much talent, but never really discovered his true gift until he fell in love with a girl and found out she was having his baby.” She takes my hand in hers. “He’s courageous and loves without question. He’s funny and smart—he can even solve master sudoku puzzles.” A single bubble of laughter leaves her as she strokes her thumb under my eye, wiping away a single tear as it hits my cheek.

“To the onlooker,” she continues, “he might be the most unlikely dad—all about fun and messing around with women. But lesson by lesson, he taught his baby mama that the world was wrong to conclude that he was anything other than perfect.”

EPILOGUE

June

DARCY

“I can’t do this. I take it back. We can’t have a baby—because Ican’t dothis.”

Panic snakes up my spine, slithering into and overtaking every part of my mind.

All the positive vibes I had earlier?

Gone.

All the excitement I felt when we walked into the hospital?

Vanished.

The baby birthing mixed tape with all my favorite songs—which was essentially a One Direction album—that Archer created for me?

Fuck. That. Shit.

There is no way a baby is being birthed from my vagina. I don’t care that there’s history spanning hundreds of thousands of years ready to prove me wrong. I will not push a full-sized baby from this body.

As I pace—or more like waddle—around the delivery suite, Archer tests the water temperature in the birthing pool I was determined to book.

“Just so we’re clear …” I pant and wince as another contraction hits me. “We aren’t having any more babies.”

Shaking drops of water from his hand, Archer stands and walks toward me as I continue circling the room.