Page 129 of Shots Fired

“Don’t stop,” I plead. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Archer.”

“I’m never going to stop loving you, Darcy.”

“But you just did,” I groan, tipping my head up toward the ceiling when Archer’s body stills.

He looks over his shoulder toward the door and then back at me, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Shit. Someone’s at the door.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

ARCHER

I have never grabbed my clothes and gotten dressed so fast in my fucking life. And trust me when I tell you that for me, that’s really saying something.

I know who’s standing on the other side of the door. I don’t need to check my smart doorbell to confirm it. Only Jack could time his visit to absolute fucking perfection, and for some reason, he’s always had a specific knock.

With my hand on the door handle and while thanking myself on repeat for updating the security code to the elevator recently, I check over my shoulder to make sure Darcy’s in the bathroom, taking a bath and not racing through the apartment, naked, because that’s the last fucking thing I need when I open this door.

“She fucking loves me,” I whisper to myself, a shot of adrenaline kicking up my heart rate.

Drawing in a deep breath, I drop my eyes to be sure my dick has definitely deflated and pull the door open.

My gut was right.

“Hey,” Jack greets me beneath a Blades baseball cap. He casts his attention down the hallway, closing his eyes like he doesn’t particularly want to be here.

“Did Kendra make you come over?” I ask, stepping to one side so he can enter.

For a brief second, he hesitates, but then moves forward, and I close the door behind him, determined not to be the next one to speak. He’s barely said two words to me outside of the rink, and if there’s any hope for our relationship, it’s time he started talking.

“Is Darcy here?” he asks.

Heading over to the kitchen, I do what I always do when Jack stops by my place to watch game footage or generally hang. With my arm outstretched, I offer him a beer.

“She’s taking a bath, and she’ll probably be a while,” I reply, feeling the tension grow thicker with each second.

He stands next to the island with both hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring at the bottle I’m offering, like if he accepts it, then he’s somehow yielding.

Don’t leave me hanging, please.

Finally, he steps forward and takes the bottle. He doesn’t immediately twist the cap and take a pull, like he usually does, instead setting it down on the counter in front of him.

“Why are you here?” I try a different tactic since he ignored my question about Kendra.

He shrugs, turning on his heel as he heads over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

“You’re right; Kendra did tell me to come since the girls are freaking out over how things are between us. I was in this part of town, picking something up for Emily, and the next thing I know, I’m standing outside your door, having listened to my wife,” he explains, his back still to me.

“Something for Emily?” I repeat, a dose of love spreading inside my chest.

He nods. “Yeah. I have it in my truck, but I’ll save it for after she’s born.”

My throat tightens, and I take a sip of beer in an attempt to temper my emotions.

“What did you get her?”

Turning to look at me, he can’t hide the subtle smile as it plays on his lips. “You’ll see come the birth.”

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