Page 142 of Shots Fired

I’m ready to step in like my five-foot-three ass could do something when a huge—and I mean, freaking huge—guy stands up next to her. With similar dark hair and brown eyes to Jenna, he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“That’s Holt,” Kendra whispers from beside me.

I don’t know when she joined me and Collins. Clearly, I was too locked in on what’s going down.

“As in her brother?” I reply.

Collins nods slowly from the other side of me. “Yeah. He arrived a few minutes ago. He just got off a flight from Paris.He’s here to visit his family for a few days since there’s a short break in the rugby season.”

Kendra clicks her tongue as Tommy squares up to Holt. “I wouldn’t fucking do that if I were you, Tommy,” she whispers beneath her breath. “Rugby guys are born to take people out. They do it for a living.”

“You’re a fucking piece of shit,” Holt spits at Tommy, although I didn’t catch whatever bullshit Tommy just spewed at him.

It doesn’t surprise me since his dad was underhanded with everything he said and did too. Like father, like son, I guess.

At first, I think Tommy’s either thought better of his chances or overheard Kendra’s whispered warning when he shoves both hands into the pockets of his pants, turning to walk away.

I was wrong. He just wanted Holt to drop his guard.

Jenna’s screams cut through the room as the music grinds to a standstill seconds after Tommy’s knuckles connect with the underside of Holt’s jaw, pushing him back into the table behind him and causing drinks to spill everywhere.

“Oh fuck, no!” Archer and Sawyer immediately pin Tommy’s arms behind his back as Jack takes a stance right in front of him, blocking his path to Holt.

How Jenna’s brother doesn’t retaliate, I have no idea. What I do know from my time in college is, rugby players aren’t just taught the skills of their game, but discipline and control are drilled into them from a very young age.

“I can’t believe he just hit him,” Kendra gasps. “H-he just fully punched the shit out of Jenna’s brother.”

“Me neither,” Collins agrees.

“I can,” I add with a headshake, and they both turn to look at me. “His last name’s Schneider.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

ARCHER

Last year, I spent Valentine’s Day scrolling aimlessly through Darcy’s social media profiles, tormenting myself as I imagined her waking up in someone else’s bed.

This year, she’s my wife and in our bed. Where she belongs, where she’s always belonged.

As I reach across and pull the duvet over her twenty-three-week pregnant belly, I carefully set a kiss above her navel. Emily is just as active as she was when we first started to feel her kick, and I’m addicted to the tiny movements beneath my palm.

I can tell she’s going to have sass, just like her mommy. Personally, I think she’s going to be just like Darcy in every way. Her eyes, her hair, lips, nose, cheeks, chin … all of it. I also hope she sleeps like her mommy does because that shit will make our lives way easier. Darcy told me that before we started sharing a bed, she’d have disturbed nights where her brain didn’t stop. I’ve never witnessed any of that, only the peaceful snorts she puffs out into our bedroom while I lie awake, staring at her like the crazy person I am.

Although that’s not strictly true. I was awake most of last night for another reason. It’s been a while since I got my thigh tattoo, and I forgot how fucking painful—and sore—they are immediately afterward.

Technically, I shouldn’t be getting any while in the middle of the regular season, but when Coach found out what I planned, he turned a blind eye. Call it special family privileges or that he’s too caught up in the constant fights and issues Tommy keeps creating for the team. I knew he was a bad trade, and he’s proving us right. After the fight at Collins’s party, Jenna has stopped coming to games, refusing to be anywhere near him. Even Sawyer has decided to extend his career for a further season. He plans to step down as captain in the offseason, but will stick around with Jensen Jones to help steady the ship.

When it comes to my new tattoo, I guess I could’ve waited until the offseason, but if you haven’t worked out by now that I’m the most impatient person on the planet, then I guess you don’t know me that well at all.

What I want, I get, and what I wanted was my daughter’s twenty-week scan tattooed across my left pec.

It’s barely light outside as I throw back the rest of the duvet, and Darcy squirms in response to the cool morning air as it meets her skin.

Keeping my mouth moving, I descend my lips and tongue from her navel to her bare pussy, and she spreads her legs instinctively, inviting me to help myself.

“You love to use me, don’t you, Doll?” I croon, moving further down the bed until my head’s perfectly positioned between her thighs. I part her wider and push two fingers inside her damp pussy, circling her tight ass with my thumb.

Her hips lift from the bed, but I hold her down with an arm, taking my first taste of her.

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