by RC Boldt
“Who’ll take her to Zumba and understand that even though she has absolutely zero rhythm whatsoever”—a small chuckle escapes at the memory of Darcy struggling with the warm-up routine—“she’s still the most adorable one there. And who’ll bake cakes for her birthdays and turmeric muffins when she’s on her—”
“Hold up.” Beck leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and levels me with a hard look. “You baked her a cake for her birthday?”
I frown, wondering why the hell he’s focusing on that. “Well, yeah.”
He cocks his head to the side. “And what’s this about muffins?”
I wave a hand dismissively. “They’re turmeric muffins. When she has rough menstrual cycles.”
He stares at me for a long moment, long enough to give me the urge to fidget, but somehow, I restrain myself. One corner of his mouth hitches up, a barely formed smirk on his face, as he leans back against the couch.
“When’s the last time you baked muffins for me? Or the guys?”
My face scrunches in confusion, wondering where the hell he’s going with this. I answer cautiously. “I’ve baked you guys birthday cakes before…”
“Uh-huh.” The edge of his mouth quirks up a smidge more. “Actually, I’m more interested in the Zumba thing.” The glint in his eyes makes me uneasy. “You’ve never taken a woman with you before.”
Shit. He’s right. For that matter, Becket’s the only one who knows about that class.
Suddenly sobering, he studies me thoughtfully. “Tell me this. If your agent called with word that you’re going to be the new face for Armani, who’s the first person you’d call to share the news with?”
My lips part to answer with what’s been my standard answer for the past few decades. Instead of Becket’s name, though, another spills out.
“Darcy.”
Holy shit.
The surprise must be evident on my face, but luckily, he doesn’t pounce. Instead, he offers an understanding smile. “Look, D. At some point, she ousted me from first place as your best friend.” He throws up a hand when I try to protest, his features transforming into one of mock sadness. “I’m not pissed. Heartbroken maybe.” With a long, dramatic sigh, he lowers his voice to a ragged whisper. “In my heart, we’ll always be besties.”
I roll my eyes. He’s such an ass sometimes. He finally cracks, and we both laugh.
His expression sobers. “At some point, the dynamic shifted for you.”
The heavy weight of the meaning behind his words hangs between us, along with the undeniable recognition that I have feelings for Darcy.
He eyes me. “I still have to tell you one thing.”
Something in his tone sends shards of nervousness skittering down my spine.
“What’s that?”
His eyes narrow, pinning me with a dark look. “If you hurt her, we’ll have words.” I part my lips to protest, but his hand shoots up to stop me. “She might not be my sister-in-law on paper, but she’s Ivy’s foster sister and the only family my wife had. For that alone, it makes Darcy mine to protect.”
Irrationally, I stiffen at a single word: mine. But I know what he’s getting at.
“You know I’d never do anything to hurt her, Beck,” I claim quietly.
He holds my gaze steadily. “Just be sure you’re all in.”
I nod slowly. A quiet moment passes between us before he tips his head in the direction of the stairs. “Ivy’s upstairs with the baby if you want to love on her a bit.”
I crack a smile. “Thanks, man.”
With a nod, he reaches for the remote to start the movie, and I head toward the stairs.
My lips form a smile in anticipation of seeing little Ella. When I approach the nursery, I say softly, “Where’s my sweet goddaught…”
My words trail off as I draw to a stop in the doorway. I have to grasp the doorjamb to steady my suddenly weak knees. Because the sight I’m faced with is the most impacting gut punch of awareness I’ve ever experienced.
Not only is Darcy here, still clad in her blue dress, but she’s in the glider with a sleeping Ella in her arms. Even though her expression looks startled, clearly surprised to see me, I can’t help but let my eyes gloss over her. The way she holds the baby is so natural; a protective palm at her nape and the other at the base of her spine. The sight ricochets off all the edges of my mind and offers a flash of what could be.
Darcy holding a baby whose skin is a mixture of my darker and her lighter tones with her blue eyes and beautiful smile. Me walking in to kiss them. Because they’re mine.
The images are so jarring, so vivid, that I struggle to drag in oxygen to fill my empty lungs.
At this instant, I know that I’m all in. There’s no one else for me.
I just hope like hell she feels a fraction of what I do.
30
Darcy
Successfully matching clients is my job. One I excel at.
However, tonight is a first. I’ve never found myself on a double date with my clients. Not only that, but I’ve never experienced the odd sort of energy that crackled in the air. Dax has been unusually quiet for the remainder of dinner, appearing lost in his thoughts. Occasionally, I catch him watching me in an unnerving way. As though I were a complicated riddle he’s tasked with solving.
After our strange hallway encounter, I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. It feels as though my entire world has tipped on its axis. I did my best to participate in the dinner conversation, and I hoped it wasn’t obvious I was distracted and unsettled by Dax’s behavior. Luckily, Kyler and Monica held up more than their fair share of the conversation. The quarterback’s infectious smile and happy-go-lucky personality helped things considerably. He’d somehow weaseled a promise from me to wear his jersey to a home game. Dax had gone even quieter after that.
Now that we’ve finished with dinner, Kyler escorts me through the back entrance of the restaurant with a hand at the base of my spine. Thankfully, the owner supports the Jags and allows us to enter and exit this way to avoid any potential lurking paparazzi.
He opens the door of his sleek black BMW and helps me inside, shutting the door once I’m safely buckled. Once he circles the car and slides in beside me, he starts the engine. A tender smile plays at his lips with his thoughtful expression. It’s at this moment that I’m battered by a jarring revelation.
I’m uninterested in the prospect of Kyler trying to kiss me.
This gorgeous football player might want to kiss me, and I’m not even remotely interested. No butterflies or little stomach flip of anticipation.
More than that, though, I’m afraid of what this might mean.
When he ducks his head, I close my eyes while giving myself a pep talk.
I can do this.
I’m probably just weirded out since he’s Dax’s teammate.
Kyler is most likely a great kisser who will melt my panties off.
It’s all for naught when his lips land softly on my forehead. My eyes snap open in surprise only to find him regarding me with an expression that almost appears… sad. In a flash, it’s gone, and a slow, easy smile forms on his handsome face.
He snags my hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “Thanks for tonight. I had a great time.”
A slightly strangled laugh escapes me. “Really? Even with the”—I tip my head in the direction of the restaurant—“unexpected company?”
He chuckles softly, still holding my hand in his. “Absolutely.” With a hand resting casually on the steering wheel, he tips his head to the side. “Ready to head home?”
“And by home you mean…?”
“Darcy Cole.” He tsks and schools his expression to mock dismay. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
I can’t help but laugh and give the hand still clasping mine a quick squeeze before releasing it. Sobering, I cock my head to the side. “Would you mind dropping me off at my sister’s?”
His grin is all sorts of mischievous. “Want me to meet the family al
ready?” A hand splays flat over his heart. “I’m honored.”
He fastens his seat belt, and I expect him to pull out of the lot. When he doesn’t and instead continues to stare straight ahead, I turn to him.
“You okay?”
With a sigh, he leans his head back against the seat and releases a long breath as he stares out the windshield.
“I was just on a date with an amazing woman. Beautiful, smart, fun. Everything I could ask for. Everything I could want.”
I hold my breath because I hear the “but” coming. Even though I’m pretty damn certain we’re on the same page, a tinge of wariness fills me. He slowly turns his head, and his eyes lock with mine.
I smile, and my tone has a teasing lilt to it when I finish softly, “But she’s just not the one for you.”
In lieu of responding, he releases a long sigh and shakes his head, expression tainted with sadness. I sense a story behind this man, but now isn’t the time to press him for it.
“Unfortunately, no.” He grasps my hand in his, brings it to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss to the top. His husky, subdued voice contains the hint of mischief I’ve come to expect. “Still want you to wear my jersey at the next home game, though.”
Laughter bubbles up. “As long as you get me good seats,” I tease.
He grins and releases my hand. “Only the best for you.” He faces the front and puts the vehicle in gear. “Let’s get you to your sister’s so you can brag all about your new friend.”
“My new friend, huh?”
At the stoplight, he slows and turns to smile at me. This time, though, it’s not one of his smirks. It lacks the smug or mischievous qualities. The only way I can describe it is sweet and kind.
“I hope so.” The uncertainty that laces his words urges me to reach for the hand resting on the center console between us. I grasp it in mine just as the light turns green and he returns his focus to the road.
“Well, I’m grateful for my new friend.” My softly spoken words drift over us, and the edge of his mouth curves upward. His grip on my hand tightens and I shove aside the inner voice that yells, His hand doesn’t feel as nice as Dax’s!
When Kyler responds, his words convey warmth, affection, and a strong hint of gratitude.
“So am I.”
“Hey, you!” Ivy greets me at the door with a sleeping Ella snuggled in the soft carrier strapped to her front.
I’d asked Kyler to drive off before I knocked quietly on the door in order to avoid a full interrogation. He’d laughed, agreeing with understanding, and left after extracting a promise from me to go out with him for a lunch or dinner non-date soon.
My sister’s eyes widen when she sees how I’m dressed. “Whoa.” She glances back toward the inside of the house dramatically. “Are you sure you have the right address? Because the dress code here these days is comfy casual.”
“Shush.” I wave her comment aside tiredly. She shuts the door once I step inside and slip out of my heels. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping b— Ouch!” I gape at my sister while rubbing my bare arm where she’d flicked me with her finger. “What the heck?”
Ivy fixes me with an admonishing look. “You’re always welcome here. Don’t be ridiculous.” She surveys me from head to toe and nods with approval. “You’re really going all out when you have mixers these days.” With her head tipped quizzically, she adds, “Usually you don’t have to get a ride here, though. But you don’t seem like you’ve had too much to drink.”
I opt not to tell her I’m coming from a date and not a mixer. Instead, I go with, “I figured I’d make an exception tonight and play it safe.”
She accepts my excuse with a nod. “Smart.”
Without another word, she turns to head down the hallway leading to the living room. Our bare feet hardly make any sound on the sleek hardwood floors. Instead of stopping in the living room like I expect, she merely offers Becket a little wave and continues up the stairs to the second floor.
“Hey, Beck.”
“Hi, Darcy. Bye, Darcy.” He flashes me a quick grin before turning his attention back to the action flick playing on the television. A sleeping Daisy is nestled beside him, her adorable face settled on his thigh. One of his large hands affectionately smooths down her shiny brown coat of fur.
I follow Ivy into Ella’s nursery. She gestures for me to sit in the glider, and her hands work the clips of her carrier to loosen the straps. “I’m going to give you some snuggle time with our girl.” Carefully, Ivy eases down one of the shoulder straps and lifts Ella from the carrier to place her into my outstretched arms.
With my goddaughter nestled against me, her cheek against my upper chest as she continues to sleep, I settle back into the comfortable glider. My sister takes a seat on the loveseat across from me. She tucks her legs beneath her while I push the chair back and forth and press a light kiss to the top of Ella’s head.
Ivy studies me. “Talk to me.”
I wince. “It’s that obvious?”
“That something’s bothering you?” She nods. “Yeah.”
With a long exhale, I shake my head, careful not to jostle the small bundle of warmth lying against me with my movement. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
Ivy’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
I hold her eyes before whispering raggedly, “Dax is my friend.” God, the words feel like they stick in my throat.
Ivy tips her head to the side in confusion. “Okay.” She drags the word out slowly.
I lean my head back against the glider and close my eyes. “I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do. You’re just afraid to say it.”
I merely groan in response because she’s right.
“Okay, so here’s my assessment.” She studies me thoughtfully. “You and Dax are friends. He’s a great guy, and you’re an amazing woman. You’ve grown close. You’re afraid that once you find him his perfect match, he’ll drop you and you won’t have this great friendship anymore. Am I close?”
I groan again, but this time, I begrudgingly add, “Yes.”
“And once the future Mrs. Kendrick comes into the picture, you won’t hang out and be the focus of those brown eyes anymore.”
“Butterscotch eyes.”
“What?”
Shit. I spoke without thinking.
I clamp my lips together, praying my sister lets it pass.
“Did you say”—she hesitates, tipping her head to the side in question—“butterscotch eyes?”
I make a dismissive sound. “Just an observation.” Please let it go.
For a long moment, she just stares at me. Then her lips slowly stretch wide into a knowing grin.
This is so not good.
“Butterscotch, huh?” Her eyes sparkle with amusement.
“Look, it’s just a color observation,” I protest hurriedly. “No big deal.”
She attempts to school her features and nods sagely. “Of course not.”
Let it be known that my sister sucks at nonchalance.
Traces of a smile tug at her lips. “Speaking of Dax’s handsome mug, the ladies on the Channel 4 morning show have been gushing about his dimple in the latest billboard ad near the Fuller Warren Bridge.”
I lean back, exhaustion taking over, and close my eyes. “Yeah, his right dimple is something else,” I mutter and smile softly. “It’s always more pronounced when he’s up to no good.”
Silence drags on for what seems like forever.
Oh, hell. The wine at dinner gave me word vomit. That has to be it. It’s the only excuse I have right now.
“Huh.” I detect the hint of amusement in her voice. “Can’t say that I’ve ever really noticed that before.” Her tone softens. “Darcy, do you think it’s possible that you have feelings for him?”
I immediately tense, my eyes popping open in alarm before I answer with a firm, “No.”
My sister eyes me with a calculated look before her lips part. “Oka—” She stops short, he
r eyes locked on something.
On my hand.
Shit, shit, shit.
I uncross my fingers, but it’s too late.
Our eyes meet, and I barely hold back a wince at the knowing expression on her face. “Still do that, huh?”
I used to do this long ago, and Ivy had been the only one to call me on it. I’d cross my fingers when I felt compelled to lie but hated doing so. When I was younger, I’d bargain that if I had to lie to spare someone from feeling obligated to me or of hurting their feelings or—in most cases back then—to protect myself from having my feelings hurt, crossing my fingers first made it better and left less of a caustic aftermath from the lie.
Before I can respond, the sound of a manly hoot from downstairs draws our attention. We exchange a curious glance, and I assume Becket’s switched the channel to something sports-related.
I ask Ivy how she’s been adapting to motherhood, and while she answers, I can’t help but take notice of how much my sister has changed. She’s softer now; the hard-edged, cynical woman she once was has morphed into one in love not only with her husband and new baby but also life in general. She’s come a long way, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
Heavy footfalls sound up the stairs, approaching the room. Curiously, Ivy smiles, and I close my eyes to savor another kiss to Ella before I’ll likely have to relinquish her to her father.
“Where’s my sweet goddaught…” My eyes flare open in surprise, and his words trail off as he draws to a stop in the doorway. His eyes lock on me with an indecipherable expression.
I freeze in the midst of gliding. Ivy doesn’t miss a beat, immediately offering Dax a warm smile. “Hey, you. Your ears must’ve been burning.”
“Really?” He walks over and squats beside my chair. The way he reverently traces a finger along the baby’s hairline before dropping a soft kiss on her head has my breath lodging in my painfully tight throat.
“Yeah,” Ivy continues, “Darcy and I were just chatting about you.”
Under any other circumstance, the way his eyes snap up to search my features would be comical. His gaze rakes a path over me from head to toe, and it feels as though every molecule of oxygen has been sucked from the room.