I chuckle, and reluctantly move my hand out of the way for Steph to have space to lay her hand on Darcy’s stomach.
“Hello to you too,” Darcy teases.
I smile as I watch Steph slide in next to her. I love how comfortable she and Freya are here. Neither woman feels the need to knock or ask to get a drink or something to eat. They make themselves at home – because they can feel that this is Darcy’s home, and they’re a package deal, the three of them.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I just hope that one day Rebel might be a part of this too. She’s my best friend, and even though I’ll be completely and utterly outnumbered, I wouldn’t really mind. Life would be pretty much perfect.
“Why isn’t it doing anything?” Steph pouts after a minute of nothing.
“She was contemplating watching a kinky movie the first time it happened; maybe we should put on some porn?” I suggest with a smirk. “Might get things moving.”
“We are not watching porn,” Darcy deadpans, giving me a ‘watch yourself’ look.
I know the baby has kicked again because both women’s eyes fly to Darcy’s stomach.
“I felt it!” Steph says. “Your baby is a little horn dog.”
“Steph!” Darcy scolds her. “Don’t call my baby a horn dog.”
“Fine,” she replies, sassily. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. One mention of porn and it’s having a party in there. I bet it’s a boy. No girl gets that excited about porn.”
I can’t help but laugh at the horrified expression on Darcy’s face and the utterly convinced one on Steph’s.
I don’t say it out loud, but I’d love a boy – if nothing else, it would help balance out numbers around here.
“You really are something else. I can’t wait for you and Mark to have a baby one day. I’m going to make the most inappropriate comments.”
She leans back in her seat, tucking her feet under her bum. “Don’t you be putting that out into the universe. You might be happy growing a bun in your oven, but I’m not ready. I can barely keep myself on schedule let alone a small human as well.”
I chuckle and take the remote from where Darcy has left it lying on the couch. I’m pretty confident Steph can’t keep to any type of schedule whatsoever, but I’m not about to burst her bubble.
“Men in Black?” I suggest hopefully.
“No,” they both reply in unison before going back to their conversation which I tune out. There’s only so much girl talk my masculinity can handle.
“Shooter?” I try.
I don’t even get a reply, just matching ‘absolutely not’ looks.
“The Notebook?” I joke.
“Excellent choice, Mr. Steele,” Steph replies, snagging the remote from my hands before I even register the action.
“I was kidding.” I reach after her, but she’s already pressing play.
Darcy just giggles and gives me a look. “It was your idea.” She shrugs.
“Honestly? You’re going to make me watch The Notebook? Shall I just give you my balls so you can keep them in your purse?”
“I could put them in mine, they can keep Mark’s company.” Steph smirks.
Darcy shakes her head in amusement and wiggles her butt forward to get up. “I’m making popcorn.”
I rest my hand on her thigh. My princess... no movie is complete without a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn.
“I’ll get it. You stay and catch every second of this girly crap. I’d hate for you to miss even a glance at Ryan Gosling.”
She grins at me, more than happy with that deal.
“So much for not being a fan, you know the actor’s name.” Steph smirks.
I flip her off, get to my feet and head for the kitchen. Hell, maybe I’ll whip up a three-course meal while I’m in here – anything to try and salvage the last part of my manhood and get me out of tearing up about a love story.
“You’re up early.” I kiss the top of Darcy’s head on my way to the coffee machine.
She’s sitting on a stool, a cup of tea next to her and her laptop open.
I don’t know what time she woke, but when I opened my eyes this morning, she was gone from next to me.
“Thought I’d make a start on this week’s column.”
I pour a cup of black coffee and turn back to face her.
“What’s this one about?”
“Fast fashion. It’s encouraging people to think before they buy. To buy more sustainable products and items that are more diverse.”
“I’ll look forward to reading it.”
She nods her head at me, and I can tell by her expression that she doesn’t believe I’d ever read her articles.
Little does she know, I have every magazine that her writing is featured in, from every week since the day I met her. They’re collecting dust in a big box in my garage, but I have them and I’ve read them all. Every single one.
Ever since she told me what she did, with such passion, I’ve hung on her every written word.
Five years ago:
“What do you do for a living, Clark?”
I smirk at the use of the character name. I tried to tell her my real name earlier, but she told me to shush, that’d I’d ‘ruin it’ or something.
“Family business,” I answer vaguely.
She raises a brow at me but doesn’t push it further.
“What about you, Barbie?”
She smiles. “I write for a magazine. I only get a weekly column right now, but I work behind the scenes on a lot of content for the magazine and also with some of the authors who are publishing through our sister company.”
“You’re a writer.” I nod. That fits with what I know of her so far. I bet she’s brilliant.
She scrunches up her nose. “Sort of. I only have one little column. I’d love to get into some of the bigger articles, and I’ve always dreamed of writing a novel one day. Maybe a thriller... or a mystery. I have a lot of ideas, I just don’t know if anyone would want to hear them.
“I want to hear them,” I reply simply. “I want to hear them all.”
“I’ve been thinking about asking for some of my hours back... I gave up pretty much everything else I was doing, except my column... I was just thinking maybe I could do a little more. Working from home of course.” She lifts one of her dainty shoulders in a half-shrug.
She’s watching me carefully, gauging my reaction. It takes me a minute to understand why she’s acting like she needs my approval.
Because she needed his.
I bet she gave it up for my dipshit brother and his out-of-control ego.
I can just picture him strutting around, telling her that she didn’t need to work. He wouldn’t have liked her independence. I’m sure he would have much preferred that his pretty little wife be at home, waiting for him every night with dinner on the table.
He wouldn’t have wanted her to work – and she would have complied.
Instinctively, I want to tell her that I’m more than happy to support her financially now and for the rest of her life if that’s what she wants, but I don’t think that is what she wants. She’s telling me exactly what she wants – I just have to listen.
She wants to be treated as an equal, and in her mind, that means contributing to the finances, however unnecessary that might be in my mind. This isn’t about me, this is about her.
“Sounds good, princess. Can’t hurt to ask, right? See what they have available that interests you,” I reply casually.
She brightens instantly and releases a nervous breath.
I swear to God, every single day this woman shows me another little part of her that Jacob has broken or cracked. It makes me want to peel the skin from his bones and pull him apart piece by piece. He abused her. He might never have laid a finger on her physically, but he’s emotionally damaged her, and it’s up to me to find a way to help her put those pieces back together.
“I mean, they might not have anything, or whatever, but it’s
worth asking. They might need help with the manuscripts,” she rambles excitedly.
“You could always start working on a book of your own.”
Her eyes, that had drifted to her computer screen, flash back to my face.
“I’ve always wanted to write a book.”
“Mmm?” I feign surprise as I sip my coffee.
She nods. “Since I was a kid.”
“Why don’t you do it then?”
She shrugs. “I don’t really know the first thing about writing a book.”
“You’re a born storyteller, Darce, just open a blank document and start typing – see what comes of it.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I guess I could give it a go.”
“I think you should do whatever makes you happiest. If that’s more hours at the magazine, then do that, if it’s finding hidden gems in other people’s words, then do that. And if you want to write something for yourself then you know I’ll support you with that too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. She looks yet again, like she’s going to cry.
“I won’t let you struggle, princess. We’re a team, I’ve got you and you’ve got me. We’re in it together. I just want you to be happy, that’s all that matters to me.”
We stare at each other in silence for a few beats. I don’t think she knows what to say, I can only hope that means I’ve said the right thing.
“Sometimes I hope the baby is going to be a girl, because she’d be the luckiest little girl in the world to have a daddy so sweet and considerate.” I’m surprised by her train of thought, but I let her continue. “But now, just right now in this moment, I’ve decided that I hope it’s a boy – the world needs more men like you, Ryan. You’re unbelievable. If we had a son and he grew up to be half the man you are, I’d be the proudest mother on earth.”
She’s got me blushing now – a rare occurrence, but there’s just something about praise from her, it means more than it does from anyone else.
“I love you, Darcy.”
Her mouth falls open and she blinks at me, once, twice and then a third time.
I cross the room to stand in front of her, so I can touch her while I repeat the words I know she heard but hasn’t seemed to absorb.
I take both of her hands in mine and look down into those brilliant eyes. God, I hope our little peanut gets those eyes. They’re my favourite part of her.
“Darcy Shearer, I love you, so fucking much.”
Tears pool in her eyes and she pulls me closer, burying her face against my chest. “You love me?” she asks, her unsure voice muffled against my shirt.
“Yes, I love you, princess,” I say with a grin. She’s so fucking sweet.
I can feel my shirt getting wet from the moisture spilling out of her eyes.
She sniffs a few times and then finally looks up at me, her eyes glassy. “I love you too, Ryan.”
So much sincerity, truth and love.
Those are words I’ve dreamed of hearing for over eighteen hundred days.
I try to clear my throat, it feels thick, like all my emotions are stuck in there. And all of a sudden, she’s not the only one with glassy eyes.
15
Darcy
“I’m so nervous I could puke.”
“I’d really prefer if you didn’t.” His big, warm hand settles at the base of my spine and calms me down a little, but not nearly enough as he guides me through the doors of R&R’s. “Seems like you’ve only just stopped the puking.”
He’s right, I’m on a month-long, no-vomit streak and I’d really hate to ruin it now.
Ryan and I have eaten here plenty of times over the past month or two, most of the staff know me by name now, but the one person I’m yet to encounter is Rebel. She’s Ryan’s best friend and not only have I never met her, but she hates me – I’m sure of it.
What I’m not sure of, is why.
Ryan has been assuring me all day that I’m wrong and Rebel is just a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of woman. He’s lying through the skin of his teeth, but I think it’s kind of sweet that he’s trying.
He wants the two most important women in his life – his words – to get to know each other, and after everything he’s done to support me, this is the least I can do. It’s the only thing he’s ever asked of me. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless.
“You’re fine, princess, it’s just dinner. You had to meet her sometime. She doesn’t bite.”
I’m not entirely sure that’s true, I’m almost one hundred percent confident that she bared her teeth at me the night I came here to tell Ryan about the baby, but I don’t say that out loud. This woman is his best friend, and his business partner. I need her to like me if I’m going to have a shot at staying in Ryan’s life, and after the past couple of months, I can’t possibly imagine not staying in his life. I’ve fallen hard for this rough-around-the-edges, sweet, kind man, and I don’t plan on giving him up for anything or anyone.
I nod as I follow his line of sight and find Rebel sitting in a booth down the back. She waves us over, and I relax a little bit. She’s not shooting me a death glare. Yet.
“What did Steph tell you on the phone just before?” he murmurs into my ear as we cross the room.
He’s trying to distract me, and even though I know exactly what he’s doing, I still appreciate it.
“To put on my big-girl pants and stop being such a whiny little bitch,” I reply, my mouth twitching with a grin as I recall her losing her cool with me.
He chuckles – the throaty sound doing funny things to my stomach.
My hand lands there instinctively, coming to rest on my baby bump.
His eyes follow the action, as they often do, and I can practically see the love pouring out of him. Doting is my favourite look on him. I can’t wait to see him with the baby when’s it’s born. He’s going to be the best father. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve already fallen completely head over heels in love with him, I’m certain seeing him holding our child would have done the trick.
It was inevitable, falling for him. The same way I hope living happily ever after will be.
But first, I have to win over the redhead in front of me.
“You’re late,” she says with a raised brow as Ryan leans in to kiss her cheek, his hand never leaving my back.
“Always a pleasure to see you too, Rebel.” He smirks. “This is Darcy.”
“Hi,” I say, my tone far shyer than I’d have preferred. I had all these grand plans of being confident and sure of myself – they went out the window the minute she locked those deep hazel, assessing eyes on me.
She’s all kinds of intimidating. Tall, curvy, beautiful, with bright red hair and piercing eyes. I bet she has men falling at her feet daily. She’s the kind of stunning you never see in real life. She’s everything I’m not.
“So you’re the famous Darcy. I was wondering if I was ever going to get to officially meet you.”
I giggle nervously. “It’s so good to meet you too.”
Her expression doesn’t change, yet I can’t help but feel like she’s internally screaming at me I never said it was good to meet you.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Ryan talks about you all the time,” I ramble.
Ryan ushers me into the booth, and I couldn’t be more grateful for an excuse to look away from Rebel. I need to get my shit together, and fast before she forms the impression that I’m a complete rambling idiot.
“Cute bump,” Rebel remarks as I tug my dress so it sits comfortably over my expanding stomach.
“Thanks.” I smile brightly before looking to Ryan and then smiling brighter. I still don’t know how he does that. I’ve never been around someone who’s made me this happy or feel this safe. “I feel like a whale.”
Ryan rolls his eyes.
“When’s the due date?” Rebel asks.
“September twentieth,” Ryan answers before I can. “We’re over halfway now.”
“He or she?” S
he fires off another question.
Ryan stifles a laugh next to me.
I narrow my eyes at his side profile playfully. He’s so smug. We had another scan – the scan where we should have been able to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl, but according to Dr. Davis, our baby was playing coy and refusing to reveal their gender.
“It’s a surprise,” I say before he can say something smart.
Rebel nods her head, glancing back and forth between the two of us curiously as she sips her drink.
Ryan reclines back into the booth, his hand landing lazily on my thigh. I don’t know how he’s so at ease, I still feel like I’m about to puke, or pass out. Or both. Knowing my luck, definitely both.
Jimmy comes over to the table and puts a hold on any more small talk for the moment.
We order drinks and food, and then Ryan and Rebel talk about business for a while. I finally start to relax. This is the kind of conversation I can handle. No intimate questions. Nothing much more than a few nods and smiles are required on my behalf.
My mind drifts off to the baby supply shop I saw last weekend in the group of shops near Ryan’s house. I wasn’t sure how I was going to afford to get everything for the baby all at once, but since Ryan is still refusing to accept any type of rent from me, and seems to have an uncanny knack for locating the cash I’ve stashed in various locations around the house so he can return it – I now have more money than I’m accustomed to having, so I should be able to afford the bulk of what I want.
“We all get it wrong sometimes, but you know all about that, right, Darcy?” Rebel’s voice interrupts my daydream.
“Sorry, what?” I frown, not understanding her tone or accusation. I haven’t exactly been listening, but I can’t fathom what she’s talking about.
“Rebel,” Ryan hisses. “Don’t.” He shoots her a look that would kill any normal person – at least one that was capable of feeling fear – unlucky for me, his best friend seems to have balls made from brass.
“What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I was just pointing out that we all make mistakes, and that Darcy, of all people, knows how that goes.”
The First Rule: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 11