Page 95 of Shots Fired

Archer looks at me, rubbing my thigh in slow circles. He doesn’t know about my needle phobia, and that, combined with the way I always seem to be sick, I’m sure he’ll think I’m a wimp.

“I’m going to leave that decision to my girl.”

He leans down so only I can hear. “About a year ago, Jack mentioned your fear of needles. We were talking about my thigh tattoo at the time. I want you to know that if for any reason you’re scared or holding out on any tests you want, like for the gender of our baby, then I’m here to hold your hand. Nothing bad is going to happen to you when you’re with me.”

Every nerve I possess sparks as crackles dance across my skin, and I look at Julia when Archer kisses below my ear.

I can see the pride she has for her son, it’s palpable, even via a brief video call.

“I’m going to let you two get to your appointment,” she says.

“Okay, Mom.” Archer wraps his arm around my waist. “I’ll send you some pictures from the scan.”

She grins like that’s exactly what she was about to ask him. “Good. And then I want you both here for Thanksgiving …” She pauses. “Actually, what about Christmas?”

Archer gazes down at me, phone still outstretched in his other hand. “I’ll be spending Christmas wherever my girl is.” He looks at his mum then. “And I want you with us for sure.”

Julia’s face lights up. “I would absolutely adore that.”

Archer tears his gaze away from me, focusing back on Julia. “Our last Christmas before we’re a threesome.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ARCHER

It’s amazing how you can stare at the same thing over and over, yet you see something new each time you look at it. At the eight-week scan, the sonographer confirmed Darcy’s final due date as June 16, which was pretty much in line with what we expected, and the second our baby’s heartbeat filled the quiet room, I was ready to fall apart. A week later, I can still hear the soft thump of my child’s heart.

We made that.

I was right when I said scan day would be the best day of my life. After we finished up, I took Darcy back to my apartment, undressed her, and made love to my girlfriend all night. We got zero sleep, and I regret nothing. To be honest, sleep has been in short supply for both of us since we got together. Why rest when you can fuck in every room you own? I like to look at it as preparation for the disturbed nights we’ll have when the baby finally arrives.

“Is there, like, a secret passageway in this bathroom I’m not aware of?”

Still staring at the scan photo I keep inside my wallet, I quickly fold it shut and pocket it in my sweats.

Jack lets the bathroom door close behind him.

I push off the far wall and randomly wash my hands. I don’t need to since I already rinsed them, but it’s a great way to busy myself and an excuse not to look at him.

He sidles up next to me, arms crossed over his chest and his training bag slung over one shoulder. We just had practice, and some of the guys want to head to the driving range to hit a few balls this afternoon—a new hobby they’ve taken up.

Ordinarily, I’d go, and as Jack stands next to me, his lips pressed together while I finish up drying my hands for a second time, I know he wants me to tag along.

“If it had a secret passageway, then I wouldn’t be standing here, would I?” I volley back, smirking as I do.

Anyone who knows Jack Morgan knows that he’s the excitable, fun-loving guy on the team. I once told him in his first NHL season that he had all the ingredients to make a captain, and I still stand by that statement today. Only, as he drops his head between his shoulders and slowly shakes it, I see none of the usual brightness he shares in common with his sister. And that reality makes me feel a blend of guilt, as I wonder if he knows about Darcy, along with fear, for the exact same reason.

Clicking his tongue, he scuffs the floor with his sneaker. “I’m worried about you, bro.”

I look up from the faucet and into his eyes, realizing he doesn’t know anything about Darcy and me, but not feeling any easier. “Why are you worried?” I ask in a light tone.

Jack exhales deeply. “You aren’t the same person.” He lifts his head to look at me. “Back when we first met, you were different. You’d go out for one thing.”

“I do still go out,” I reply.

He lifts a brow, arms still set across his chest. “So, I’ll assume you’re coming to the driving range with us then?”

I push a hand through my hair, unease coating my insides. Darcy’s back at my place, waiting for the clinician to arrive and take her blood. She decided to go through with the prenatal blood test to determine the gender of our baby, and I need to leave in around five minutes to make sure I make it back in time. She’s shitting herself over the process, and I need—no, Iwant—to be there with her. It isn’t just my duty as the dad, but supporting my girlfriend brings me a sense of belonging I’ve never had before.

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