Page 36 of Shots Fired

“You feel so good,” she breathes out when I push deeper inside, stretching her delicious pussy out slowly.

I set another kiss against her forehead. “Yeah, well, get used to it. Because now you can have me whenever you want.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

DARCY

Sitting alone at the restaurant table that Jenna booked for a last-minute girls’ lunch, I’m halfway through completing an online sudoku challenge when Mum’s text pops up.

Mum: I need your honesty on something really serious.

Me: Oh, yeah? What’s the issue?

I’ve always had a good relationship with my mum, and it’s grown stronger since I moved to New York.

Shortly after my parents divorced and my dad’s temporary work contract in Seattle ended, meaning he would be returning to the UK, I was keen—no, gasping—to get back to Oxford and see Liam after way too long apart. Back then, our relationship felt different and exciting, until it didn’t anymore. The compromise was living across the other side of the Atlantic from my brother and mum.

Like I blurted out to Archer last night, it wasn’t until I was older when I started to piece together the narcissistic side to my dad, especially when he didn’t have Mum in his life anymore and his controlling ways focused more on me as a result. That’s when I took a step away and started considering the benefits of moving back to the US to be with the blood family I respected. Liam cheating and behaving like a first-rate arsehole sealed the deal, and I guess the rest is history.

Mum: Do you think the dusky pink or the sage green? *pictures attached*

I chuckle when I open two images of Mum wearing dresses in a fitting room. They’re both similarly styled, with thin straps and a cowl neck, in a satin material that clings to her stunning figure and falls to the floor.

Mum and I are alike in so many ways, but we do have our differences—she has deep emerald eyes and wavy chocolate hair.

I study the pictures for a few seconds, rotating my phone to see all angles. She’s not wrong; dress shopping is a serious matter.

Me: You know my preference is pink, but Jon has always been right—green truly is your color.

Mum: Okay, thanks, honey. I’ve been agonizing over them for what feels like forever. Dress shopping without Jon here to give his opinion is a bloody nightmare.

I shake my head to thoughts of my stepdad. He might be one of the biggest names in ice hockey, but sports isn’t his only talent. That man has an incredible eye for fashion.

Me: Where is Jon?

Mum: At the rink for practice. The Blades have a preseason game tomorrow, and he wants to iron out a few plays with the team.

I’m immediately thinking about Archer in his goalie kit.

Jesus.

Me: What do you need the dress for?

Mum: Didn’t Jack tell you? Last week, the Blades general manager confirmed he’s leaving after ten years with the team due to poor health. His replacement—who is yet to be announced—is attending a dinner the week after next. He’s going to meet the team, and it’s doubling up as a farewell to the existing GM. Not great timing ahead of the start of the regular season, but it can’t be helped. Players and coaching staff, along with close family and friends, are all invited.

Me: No, I hadn’t heard.

“Look at you, sitting over here, all alone.”

I place my phone face down on the table and look up to find Jenna hovering over me.

Picking up the wine I ordered when I arrived, I take a sip. “I was early for once.”

Jenna takes the seat next to me, looping her bag over the back of the chair. She looks like a woman on a mission, and I’m confident that mission is me.

“Since we have a few minutes before the others arrive, care to tell me why a certain Blades goalie wanted your undivided attention last night?” She tags a wink onto her question.

I quirk a brow at her, considering how many details to divulge. Fuck it. It’s not like Jenna—or any of my girls—is untrustworthy. Plus, if I start sneaking off with Archer, the first people to notice are going to be my best friends.