Chapter 47
DARCY
Years ago, Mum once said to me that life can deal us a set of cards we least expect. It’s what we do with them that really matters. We can either fold or make the best of what we have.
I feel like the past few months have taught me the true meaning behind that statement. Sitting next to Archer Moore, my husband and father of our eighteen-week unborn baby, was not how I anticipated life in New York to play out for me.
It was in the stars though.
When I moved to Brooklyn, I was hurting, even if I didn’t let it show. I was scared to embark on a new career after graduating and pursue my dreams in editing. Even if I pretended like I’d gotten my shit together, I felt like I had anything but.
I kept reminding myself that several years ago, when I was much younger, Mum had done something similar when she stayed in Seattle and made difficult decisions to go after the life she wanted to live.
In the end, she made some of her greatest friends and met a husband most women could only dream of having by their side.
To some extent, it feels like I’ve followed in my mum’s footsteps. I always saw her time in Seattle as a second act in her life, and while I’m younger than she was when she met Jon, I can’t help but feel a similar kind of way.
It’s easier to try and control every element of your life because that way, the days seem safer, more predictable, and fear of the unknown doesn’t creep in.
But when you play it safe, you risk missing out on undiscovered chapters or dismissing people who couldn’t be more perfect for you and the life you truly want to live.
Sure, I have dreams of opening my own editing business one day. The friends I have around me in Collins, Kendra, and Jenna are real-life inspirations to me as they kill their respective careers daily.
But right now, in this moment, driving to my friend’s birthday party with my husband’s palm resting on my rounding stomach, is exactly where I want to be. I wouldn’t change the cards I’m holding because this hand is perfect.
“You make me nervous when you’re quiet, Doll.” Archer glances across at me as we head toward the private bar Sawyer has booked out. “I don’t think your mind ever stops, does it?”
“Not really,” I reply as he pulls into a designated parking spot for the valet.
Placing the car in park, he reaches across, cupping my cheek in his warm, rough palm. “You know you can let those brain cells rest a little now that you have me. We’re a team, and we will work everything out together.”
I place my hand over his, feeling my shoulders relax a fraction. “The DARCher bubble never really burst, did it?”
Archer studies me with intrigue. “DARCher bubble? I’ve never heard that before.
” He leans across and sets a kiss against my lips.
“But I love it. Our bubble never burst when we allowed others into our secrets, Darcy. It only made us stronger. I promise there will always be parts of us and our life that only we know.”
“Like what?” I ask, my heart rate picking up as he kisses my jaw.
“Like the way you chew the tip of your pencil when you’re thinking through a puzzle. Or the way you fold your foot behind the other when you’re standing at the sink.”
Another kiss, and I can feel my pulse as it throbs.
“How I knew you wanted me to be a pussy preventer that day with Harry at the bar. And how I punched a guy last August when he was all over you one second and chatting shit about you the next.”
I pull back, jaw agape. “You did what?”
He winces, that rare flush of color spreading across his high cheekbones. “The night Sawyer and Collins got engaged … there was this dude you were flirting with in the bar we went to afterward.”
I shake my head, remembering clearly who he was and that I kissed him.
Truthfully, I had every intention of heading back to his place, like he’d suggested.
But when he went to the restroom, he never came back, and I assumed he’d changed his mind and tried not to take it personally.
I think at that point, I concluded being a playgirl probably wasn’t suited for me.
“Wait …” I pause, slowly putting the pieces together. “You punched him in the restroom, didn’t you?”
Archer scratches at the back of his neck, a playful but pleading puppy-dog look in his eyes. Almost like he’s been caught chewing on something he shouldn’t.
“He was talking shit about you. I saw red and fucked up his jaw.” He winces again, gripping his steering wheel tightly.
I can sense his anger even now, months after he hit him.
“No one gets to look at my girl in the wrong way, never mind disrespect her. I was convinced I’d fucked up with you and the guy would leak it to the press. He didn’t, and I got away with it.”
Is it wrong that my thong just grew damp?
“You told Liam to take a hike too, didn’t you?” I ask, unsure if he did, but starting to suspect Liam’s disappearance might have to do with my spouse.
Archer’s eyes grow wide, a flash of panic shooting through them. “How do you know about that?”
I shrug a shoulder. “I didn’t, until you just admitted it. He dropped off the face of the earth, and that’s not like him. Normally, he likes to fuck with my head as much as possible.”
“He’s a fucking prick I want to pummel into the ground, but also kiss and thank him for letting you go, all at the same time. There was no way I was allowing him back into your—our lives.”
Like I do so frequently, I tip my head to one side, teasing him with a grin. “You’re really freaking intense, Thigh Boy. You know that, right?”
He returns the expression. Playboy Archer might be long gone, but something tells me his trademark cockiness will always remain.
I hope it does.
“I’m willing to bet that there is no one in this world—universe, in fact—that’s as down bad for their girls”—he rubs a thumb over my stomach—“as I am for mine.”
“If I drink another mimosa, I’m one hundred percent going to puke,” my friend announces.
I push the glass along the bar toward Collins. “I believe in you, babe. You’ve had two drinks all night. Plus, I’m intrigued what drunk Collins is like.”
“Same.” Sawyer approaches his fiancée from behind, setting a kiss on top of her head. “I want to know how much crazier you get when you let all your inhibitions drop.”
She rolls her eyes and picks up the glass, taking a tentative sip. I do the same with my soda, watching as Archer talks with a few of his teammates.
“Last birthday as a Mackenzie,” I breathe out around the rim of my glass.
She smiles, creases forming around the corners of her eyes. “Ezra picked out his suit last weekend; it matches his dad’s, apparently.”
“It does.” Sawyer kisses the top of her head, as infatuated with her as he was the first night he clapped eyes on his future wife. “I’m desperate for clues about the dress, but this one here isn’t giving anything up. I don’t know how I’m supposed to hold out until July.”
Collins shifts out from underneath Sawyer, twisting her neck to look up at him. “I’m not wearing a dress—well, not a white one anyway.” She shivers and turns to look at me. “Can you see me in white? Seriously?”
Right now, all I can see is Archer’s face when the doors opened to the private room where we married and how incredible I felt, wearing something the total opposite of what I’d have gone for.
“I think you should—go white, that is. Play it a little dangerously.”
The second my hand smooths across her hip, shouting penetrates the loud music.
“What the fuck?!” Sawyer announces, already halfway across the room to join Archer as they both make a beeline for Tommy.
I slide my drink back onto the bar, Collins doing the same as we both scurry over to Jenna, who’s now all up in Tommy’s face.
“I’m sorry, but if you’re going to talk bullshit, then own it,” she bites out.
Tommy scoffs at her, his menacing brown eyes laser-focused on my friend.
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.”