“You signed a six-month lease.”
“You, of all people, know I was in a rush. You’re the one who had to view it for me. Signing a shorter lease was practical until I could get here and actually see if it would be sufficient.”
His lips curl into a sly grin, and his eyes fill with a challenge. “How’s it working out?”
“It’s great. The location and size are perfect for what I want. The landlord is spectacular and kept all our business dealings private.”
“Mmhmm.” He sips his wine, keeping his eyes on me. My knees bounce nervously at the way he’s staring. He’s older than me by only four minutes, and the twin intuition has always been more dominant in his genes.
“Oh, fuck it.” I snatch the bottle and drink straight from it, guzzling like an alcoholic junkie.
“Classy, Darb.”
“It’s your fault. I’m going to have to be drunk to deal with you.”
“What if I told you the owner of the bakery approached me about selling the building? He’s going to give you first rights to refusal, then contact a broker.”
The wine lands like lead in the pit of my stomach, and I swallow a few times to keep it down. “I’m not sure I can stay,” I admit with a whisper. “The next six months will be a trial run.”
“You can’t hide from him forever. It’s been twelve years. We’d all hoped you’d moved on, but from the expression on your face, I can see it was wishful thinking.”
My eyes sting as humiliation sears through my blood. It’s embarrassing how even the mention of him from my brother makes me feel like twelve years was only yesterday. “He’s the one who moved on. He moved right along, replacing me.”
“I don’t like the son of a bitch, but to his defense, you didn’t give him a choice.”
Tears well up and spill down my cheeks quicker than I can wipe them away. “You can’t do this to me, Evin. I’m trying.”
He takes the bottle out of one hand and my glass out of the other, placing them on the table between us. I suck in a deep breath, trying to control the overwhelming emotions swelling in my chest.
“Jesus, Darby, you still fucking love him.”
“Always have. And I’m afraid I always will. There’s no way to un-love Pierce. That’s why I can’t commit to staying in Charleston. The chance of seeing him every day is crippling,” I choke out.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is pained, and when I glance up, he’s staring at me with so much remorse it hurts.
“It’s okay, but can we not talk about this anymore? I’m here for at least six months, and then we’ll see what happens.”
He nods in agreement. We sit in silence a few minutes, the heaviness of the conversation slipping away.
“How about I open another bottle of wine that is free of backwash?”
I grab the bottle back and take a much lighter sip. “Help yourself. I’m gonna stick with this one.”
He stands, reaching over to pat my shoulder. “Hopefully, we can convince you to stay.”
“Not a chance if Mom and Dad don’t stop with the googly-eyes and touchy-feely, lovey-dovey shit. It’s grossing me out. Our parents have a more active sex life than I do.”
He winces, his face taking on a distorted grimace. “On that note, I’m moving to whiskey.”
I giggle into my bottle and try to remember the last time Evin and I had a real night together. It’s been way too long.
No matter what happens in the next few months, I’m going to enjoy this time with my family. And, hopefully, avoid Pierce.
•—•—•—•—•
The beauty of running my own business and starting fresh is having some freedom to do whatever I want. Baking and creating delicacies have never felt like a job to me, but the administrative aspect has been my least favorite part. My OCD tendencies don’t allow me to hire an assistant, and that’s why I’ve decided to be more selective with my clientele in Charleston.
I used to work fifteen-hour days, but I did have some help. A few part-time employees helped make it work, and my business lawyer, who is also my best friend, was an asset.
Evin wasn’t kidding; Mr. Rosen is dying to get my desserts in his restaurant. And he isn’t alone. I scroll through my emails and groan at the number of responses I need to send.
“Bad news in the world of sweets?” Mom attempts to be funny.
“Kinda,” I mutter, not paying attention to her.
“You’re going to get premature wrinkles with that scowl. I’m too young to have a daughter that looks like a pug.”
“Don’t you need to take a nap? Or rest? Or do something that a woman who recently went through major surgery does that doesn’t involve nagging the shit out of her daughter?’
“Nope, I’m all tapped up on rest. The therapist was easy on me today.”
“Remind me to fire her tomorrow.”
She takes the chair next to me, peering over my shoulder. “Fill me in.”
“I’m wanted.”
“Being wanted is a good thing. Billy said your stuff is flying out of his store.”
“Yes, but look at my inbox. All these are requests to meet and discuss business proposals.”
“Seems like a good problem to have.”
“But I’m not ready to take on this much. My load is perfect right now. I’ve got it under control.”
She takes my hand, pulling my attention from the computer screen. Concern is written all over her face. “You always have it under control, but would it be bad to have some help?”
“What do you mean?”
“Let me help you.”
“I’m here to help you, not the other way around.”
“And I love you for it. I love having our dinners every night and knowing you are close if there’s a problem. But we both know I’m better and getting stronger every day. Cooking my dinners, cleaning the house, organizing my therapy and home healthcare—it’s great. But it’s coming to an end. Let me help.”
“You can’t come to the bakery all day, Mom. It’s too much.”
“No, but I can take some of the administrative work off your plate. I can check your emails, respond the way you want, and with a little training from Stephanie, maybe help with other stuff.”
I sit stunned at her suggestion. “Are you proposing working for me? You hated working for Dad.”
“First of all, I didn’t work for your dad. I worked with your dad in our business. Secondly, I didn’t hate it. I just wanted to keep control of the two rugrats we birthed, and he was needy.”
“Evin was the rugrat. I was the angel,” I correct her.
She pats my hand, smiling widely. “If you say so.”
“You’d want to help me?”
“It would keep me busy. Since I’ll probably never ride a horse again and my free time is about to drive me batty, it would be a good thing.”
“What about me being here in the afternoons? Our time together?”
“If you had three more hours a day in the bakery, how much more could you produce?”
I do the calculations in my head and think about my ovens, the freezers, and the time I could work with creating new things. “Probably enough to take on three new businesses, with the understanding they had to be afternoon clients. No specialty orders at this point. Weekend orders will be delivered on Friday afternoons, and I’m keeping my Saturdays and Sundays free.”
“Okay.”
“And no huge celebration clients.”
“Yet.”
“None!” I emphasize loudly.
“I think you are underestimating your ability to handle new clients.”
“I think you are underestimating what my current business load is. I am happy with petit fours, cookies, truffles, and chocolate-covered fruits, which, by the way, have to be refrigerated.”
She tilts her head to the side, looking at the ceiling with squinted eyes, then looks to my computer with pursed lips. She repeats the notion a few times then blows out a breath. “Hmm, it’s not e
xactly what I was thinking, but I guess I’ll accept your job offer.”
“There was no job offer!”
“I’m free to start training on Saturday, right after you drive me to the mall for new work clothes.”
“Sweat pants and t-shirts are fine, you wench.” I scowl, realizing I’ve been played to the nth degree by Annie Graham.
“Maybe after a few months, with my salary, I can afford a gas-guzzling, rich people, slick ride like yours.”
“I didn’t offer you a salary!”
“We’ll see.” She stands easily and breezes away, not a hint of pain in her hip or pelvis.
My phone rings, and I almost hit ignore before my mom calls over her shoulder, “You may want to answer Stephanie’s call. She’s excited about our new arrangement and ready to visit next week.”
Fuck me.
My mom and best friend have just conspired against me and won.
Well-played, girls. Well-played.
Chapter 3
Pierce
“I’m sorry, but unless you have an appointment, I can’t squeeze you in today. How about Friday?” The young receptionist is only doing her job, but I’m in no mood to deal.
“Darlin’, do me a favor and call Evin. Tell him Pierce Kendrick is here to see him. He’ll make time.”
Her eyes bulge at the recognition of my name, and she bites her lower lip nervously. Kendrick Construction is a huge client at this bank, and most people know my family name. Dad handles most of this side of the business, but in the off chance I’m involved, I always go to a different branch. It was an unspoken pact between Evin and me.
We used to be friends and knew that the way things were going with Darby and me, we’d one day be brothers. The first time we saw each other after she left, I took one look at him and knew he knew what happened between us. He glared at me with a hatred that seared deep. No matter what had happened, he blamed me. From that day on, all ties were severed. On the few occasions we ran into each other, it was awkward and tense. I’m stepping over the line today for one reason only.
I need answers.
Hesitantly, she presses a button on her earpiece and turns her back, whispering. When she spins around, her face is pale and filled with confusion. “Mr. Graham has requested you meet him in the back parking lot next to his vehicle. He’s parked in space number eleven.”
I don’t even say thanks, just flick a hand in acknowledgment and take off. It’s easy to spot Evin’s truck without looking at the space numbers. Large, black, extended cab, great for hauling a boat or hunting. It’s the same exact model I drive.
He’s leaning against the back tailgate, his arms crossed over his chest in a suit that was no doubt custom tailored. This is not surprising. Evin was meant to be in the corporate world. Even behind his sunglasses, I sense him sizing me up.
“Darby is back in town.” I get straight to the point.
“Is that supposed to be a question?”
“No, it’s a fucking statement. What I want to know is why?”
“She’s visiting family.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
He remains silent.
“She’s setting up her business here, planting roots back in Charleston. Don’t deny it.”
He rips his sunglasses off, and anger flames in his eyes. “Stay away from her.”
For the first time, the thought that something is wrong hits me. “Is she okay?”
“Okay? You have the audacity to ask me that shit?”
“Answer the damn question, Evin. Is Darby all right?”
“You don’t deserve answers. Stay away from her and let my family do what we need to do.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you did enough damage to last a lifetime, and everyone that loves her suffered. We’re going to do what we need to do to bring her back. You do not get to ruin this for my family.”
“In case you forgot, she’s the one who left me.”
His nostrils flare, and he takes a step into my space. “How are your kids, Pierce? What about Connie?”
“Back the fuck up and don’t bring my kids into this.”
“Then leave my sister alone. Let her be the memory you shoved into shit when you told her she was a selfish bitch.”
He rips the wound wide open with the reminder of what I said to her that day. But there’s something in his tone that doesn’t sit well. “You’re acting like that happened yesterday. It’s been twelve goddamned years.”
“Twelve years for you but not for her. If you ever cared even a little about her, leave her alone and let us take care of her.”
My body goes tight, and my hands curl into fists at my side. Evin and I are about the same size, but I have the advantage of muscle. “Don’t you dare say that shit to me. I fucking loved your sister.”
“Well, then maybe you can dig up some of that compassion from your black heart and listen to me. Stay away.”
“I’m giving you the courtesy of talking to me now. My next stop is to Edward and Annie.”
He flinches, staring me down, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. Edward, Annie, and I always had a special relationship. Losing them hurt. One of the reasons I didn’t keep in touch was the guilt of knowing how I treated Darby that day. Unlike Evin, on the occasions I’ve run into Edward or Annie, they’ve always been kind and cordial.
“Come on, Evin. You owe me this,” I try again.
“Any favors I may have owed you disappeared the minute you knocked my sister up and then blamed her when she lost the baby.”
My balance falters, and I stagger back, his words blaring in my head. “I didn’t blame Darby. I wanted to help her. She didn’t want me.”
“Yet, you moved on quite well.”
“Is that what she told you? That I blamed her?”
“It doesn’t matter. Leave it alone.” He shoves past me, his shoulder ramming mine roughly, sending me stumbling.
Instead of chasing after him to demand answers, I’m frozen in place, wondering what the hell just happened. More importantly, does Darby believe I blamed her?
•—•—•—•—•
“I’m scared, Pierce.” She clung to me, burying her face in my shirt. “What happens if it’s positive?”
“Then, we’ll deal.”
“It’s too soon. We aren’t ready. How did I let this happen?” Her body trembled, and she began to sob again. Moisture seeped through the material of my shirt and soaked into my skin.
“Shh,” I tried to soothe her, kissing the top of her head over and over. “You’re not alone here. We talked about having children. Maybe it’s earlier than we planned.”
Her head popped up, and my chest seized at her tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes. My protective instincts kicked in, and I fought the urge to crush her to me, shield her from anything that brought fear to her beautiful face.
“I just graduated and don’t even have a job yet! I live with my parents, and you share an apartment with your brother. We aren’t exactly equipped to be parents right now.”
“You do have a job, and we’ll move into our own place.”
“I make desserts and cakes for parties out of my mom’s kitchen. That’s hardly a job.”
“People love your stuff. I’m one-third owner of a construction company. I’ll build you a place to bake, and we’ll expand your business. Together, we can do this.”
Her light brown eyes began to glimmer, and the trembling lessened. “You’d build me a place to bake?”
“I’ll build you anything you want.”
“You’re not mad?”
I threaded my fingers through the hair at the side of her head and gently caressed. “Do I look mad? I’m a man that loves you, and if you’re having my baby, I’ll shout from the rooftops.”
“Our parents are going to freak.”
“I’m not worried about our parents. They know where we’re headed. I haven’t hidden my plans.”
“People will think we are ge
tting married because of the baby.”
“Those people can fuck themselves. We know the truth.”
The timer on Darby’s phone beeped, and she sucked in a deep breath, scooting away to grab the little white test on my vanity. She looked at me, the fear creeping back into her face, and I nodded in encouragement. Together, we both looked down at the little window that read ‘pregnant’.
My world changed in that second, and this time, I didn’t stop from crushing her to me. To any other twenty-three-year-old man, the news may have been devastating, but to me, it was everything. I held her tight, letting the reality of the news sink in. Darby and I were going to have a baby.
“I’ll call my doctor tomorrow and make an appointment. It’ll be best to have the confirmation and see how far along I am. There’s no telling the date of conception.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips. The day Darby finished her last final and the pressure was off, our relationship shifted. She left her apartment and moved back in with her parents, but there were no rules. We took weekend trips, we partied with friends, and she spent practically every night here with me. Our sex life had always been great, but it exploded. We both became insatiable and wild, finding new ways to drive the other insane. This baby could be the result of a wild night of fucking on every surface of my room, or the result of me rolling over in the morning and making love to her sweet and slow. Either way, it didn’t matter because he or she was conceived out of love.
“Get the first appointment and let me know when to be there. I’m not missing a thing.”
She wiggled out of my strong hold and lifted her hands from between us to frame my face. Her eyes were no longer swimming in tears, but shining translucent amber. “This is unreal.”
“This is our life. Planned or unplanned, we’re going to be kick-ass parents.”
“Are you gloating?”
“Hell yes, I knocked up Darby Graham. Now, no one will ever be able to steal you away from me.”
Her lips twitched until she had no choice but to smile with a giggle. “You’re a crass caveman, but I guess there are worse baby daddies I could have chosen.”
“Damn straight. You think we can get off this cold tile floor so I can carry you to bed and show you how a caveman celebrates?”
Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers Book 1) Page 3