Page 83 of Shots Fired

“Just something Jenna said. She knows, by the way. It’s a long story, but she’ll keep it quiet until the time is right for us to announce we’re having a baby.”

I close my eyes. Despite the tension rolling off her in waves, the last part of her sentence feels like a melody.

“We’re having a baby.” I repeat her words in a tender whisper, wanting to hear them again.

In her usual way, she cocks her head to the side, smiling sweetly. “You’re one of a kind, aren’t you, Archer Moore?”

Instantly, my hands are around her thighs, and she’s sitting on the counter next to our cooling mugs of tea.

I hope they turn cold and undrinkable.

I step between her legs, one palm braced beside her, the other wrapped around the nape of her slender neck. “I’m not that complex, Darcy.”

She still looks worried over whatever Jenna said, but we’ll get to that soon. I want to hear what she has to say about me first.

“You’re deeper than you—or anyone else—gives you credit for,” she responds.

I play with the soft strands of her hair, and goose bumps bloom along her bare arms. “Perhaps you see it that way because you’re under my skin.”

She leans forward and kisses me, and my heart grows another inch with hope that I’m under her skin too.

“What did Jenna say?” I ask, returning the kiss. “Was it about me getting traded?”

She nods, face twisting, body tensing.

I clear my throat, searching for the best way to deal with this. “I’ll never lie to you, Darcy. I know I’ve been flexible with the truth from time to time, but with you, I’ll always be honest. I think a lot of my fate hinges on Jack. If he finds out and decides to kick my ass in the locker room and let his emotions overpower his professionalism and it destroys everything Coach has built between us as a team, then, yeah, the new GM will be concerned. The thing is, his potential reaction aside, your brother is the future captain of the team; he’s where the money’s at, and he’s the one all the fans are talking about right now. I’ll be twenty-eight in a couple of months, and while I’m a fucking good goalie, if it’s a choice between him or me, I’m not so sure I’ll win that kind of face-off.”

A sheen coats her eyes.

Fuck.

I hustle, thinking of something that will calm her. “I’m hopeful it won’t come to that though. I don’t think it will either.”

She wets her lips and rolls them together. “You don’t?”

I shake my head as an urge to take a risk and go somewhere that might help ease her worries rolls through me.

“Let’s get out of here.” I intertwine our fingers. “Throw on clothes and come with me somewhere.”

“Brooklyn really is beautiful in the autumn.” Darcy’s eyes scan the multicolored trees as they line the empty pathway we’ve been walking for the past five minutes.

It’s a beautiful, bright day, and we’re fortunate that hardly anyone is around.

I pull the bill down lower on my cap and shove my hand back into my pocket, resisting the urge to reach out and wrap my arm around her shoulders.

“I haven’t been to Fort Greene Park before, which is a crime for saying I live here, and I love open spaces. This place reminds me of the good parts of the UK.”

“Do you miss England?” I ask as she breaks off the path and picks up a conker, which lies beneath a large horse chestnut tree.

She turns it around in her fingers, and I watch her study its grooves and smooth surfaces. Her analytical brain examining it carefully.

“Sometimes. It’s mostly memories of my childhood that I miss and not really my time at university. I loved studying. The company? Not so much.”

Walking over to the tree, I pick up a similar-sized conker, wondering what all her fascination is over. But before I can ask her more about university, she quickly changes course.

“Did you ever have conker fights in school? I used to kick Jack’s ass every time we played.”

“You’re speaking another language right now,” I tell her. “I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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