Page 147 of Shots Fired

My husband shakes his head in awe as he slowly walks around the room, holding our daughter in his arms. “I can’t believe she has emerald eyes. I was sure they would be blue.”

He’s a complete natural, and it’s already obvious who Emily favors.

A girl after her mommy’s heart.

“Oh, I can,” Mum adds, readjusting my bedsheets in the usual fussing way she does. “She has her grandma Morgan’s eyes.”

“I don’t know about that,” Julia chimes in, tucking the sheets on the other side. “I’d say mine are more of a bluey-green and I can see that color in Emily’s.”

Archer takes a seat in the corner of the room, smiling at me as he cradles Emily to his bare chest, her tiny hand curled around his little finger. “That’s you right there, Pip. Etched onto Daddy forever.” He drops his eyes to the tattoo on his left pec, and my heart squeezes.

“Do you have enough baby clothes in this bag?” Mum asks sarcastically, taking a few sets out and laying them down on the dresser in front of her. “I was just wondering if you’d packed for a vacation or a stay in the hospital.”

I snicker when Archer rises from the chair and walks over to me, lowering a sleeping Emily down on my chest.

“Are we okay to come in?” Kendra knocks lightly on the door, peeking her face around the side.

With a finger to his lips, my husband silently nods at Kendra.

She enters, Jack and Jon following closely behind. All three head straight over to me, and Archer lies down on the bed beside us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

Kendra’s hands come straight to her mouth, hearts bouncing in her eyes when she takes Emily in. “I don’t even know what to say. She’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Eight pounds of pure perfection,” Archer coos.

“Can I hold her?” Jack’s voice is broken when he speaks. “Or will I wake her?”

“Yes, of course,” I whisper as Jack steps forward and carefully lifts her from me.

“Make sure you support her neck,” Archer instructs, rising from the bed and showing Jack what to do.

“Actually, can you do me a favor?” Jack asks Archer. “I have something in my hoodie pocket that I need you to show Emily.”

Everyone in the room is intrigued when Archer dips his hand into the front pocket of my brother’s hoodie, pulling out a red top.

Holding it by the collar, he lets it unravel. “This is what you picked up for her in town that time, isn’t it?”

Jack snickers, loving arms wrapping tighter around his niece. He looks so proud of her. “She’s a Morgan and no one can tell me otherwise.”

Despite his disapproving headshake, I see the emotion in my husband’s eyes as he places the tiny jersey over the end of my bed, my brother’s last name and number stamped across the back.

Jon stands there, a palm over his mouth as he takes it all in.

“Are you okay?” I ask, offering my hand out for him to take.

He wraps his big palm around mine, still no words materializing as he motions toward Emily.

“Wait, what’s this?” Mum speaks up, pulling something round and brown from my bag. I don’t immediately register what it is until she drops a piece of string between her fingers. “Darcy”—she chuckles softly—“why on earth did you pack a conker?”

“I didn’t,” I quickly reply, gaze resting on my husband as he takes it from Mum and turns it around in his hands.

“I did,” Archer confirms, and it’s then I see theEneatly carved into the side of the conker. “Someone once told me that conker fights make a great family game.” He shrugs a shoulder and walks over to Emily and Jack, handing my brother the conker. “I figured that we could revive that tradition and you could teach my daughter how to kick some butt.”

My eyes might be blurry, but I don’t miss the moment as it passes between both men.

“Oh my.” Mum is the only one to speak as Archer makes his way over to me, leaning down so only I can hear what he says next.

“Here’s your sixth and final lesson, Darcy Doll: your brain might be able to recall everything I’ve ever said, but my heart hangs on your every word. Forever living in our DARCher bubble.”

THE END