Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

My lungs fight for oxygen, and I slow down, breaking away. He doesn’t let me go far, holding my face close.

“Baby, you’re always gorgeous, but you look fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“The champagne would taste much better with some chocolate.” He brushes his lips across mine once more and stands, keeping his back to Connie, whose fury is surrounding us. I steal a sideways glance and wonder if she’s going to blow the roof off.

He takes my hand, inspecting my nails, and kisses along my knuckles. Then he glances at my feet, and I know immediately he approves of the color. I wasn’t kidding when I told the technician the polish was one of a kind. It was created to match the electrifying blue in my logo design. “Very appropriate,” he comments.

“Where the hell are our children?” Connie shrieks so loud the shrill sound vibrates in my ears.

He doesn’t glance her way. “With your parents, as you requested, getting ready for the Art Festival tonight.”

“You weren’t supposed to drop them off until six.”

“Your mom called and wanted them earlier.”

“Any deviations in our children’s schedule need to have my approval.”

She puts emphasis on the words our children, still trying to get under my skin.

“When they’re under my care, I make the decisions. They wanted to go to their grandparents’ early. Never been a problem before, and it’s not going to be a problem now.” His voice is steady, but there’s a sharp undertone that gives me a slight tremor. He’s holding his patience by a string, and I’m not sure we need that kind of scene.

“How much has she had to drink?” he asks me.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been paying attention to her.” It’s a lie, and he knows it by the sly grin he flashes. But it does the trick of pissing her off more.

“You want to know something about me, ask me. Not your ex-girlfriend, cookie maker,” she spits out.

Ex-girlfriend, cookie maker? That’s the best she can come up with? I drain the rest of my champagne to try to hide my amusement, but she catches on.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” Her screech is annoying.

I shrug nonchalantly. “I graduated from cookies a long time ago.”

He chuckles, squeezing my hand, and looks down at the technician. “How much longer?”

“All done.” She sets up an oscillating fan in front of my feet. “Five minutes of drying time.”

“You want another glass of champagne?” He motions to the empty glass.

“I’m driving.”

“Not tonight, you aren’t. We have dinner reservations. Evin and I will swing by and get your truck in the morning before the horses arrive.”

I try to hide the shock at the mention of Evin helping him and the fact that he still is going to help with the horses. I figured he’d be wrapped up with his kids. But I’m not going to question him. “Okay, I’ll wait until dinner for more champagne.”

He kisses my hand once more before letting go and pulling out his wallet. He hands a credit card to the woman, telling her to take care of my services. Once again, it’s in me to argue, but I hold back.

“Are you kidding me? The mother of your children is sitting right here, and you don’t even offer to pay?”

There she goes with the children thing again. Suddenly, I don’t feel guilty about his generosity.

“Nope. Because you’re their mother is probably why you are sitting here. I pay handsomely each month for their care, and let’s not forget your mortgage.”

Oh lord, he’s struck a nerve now. She jerks up, one hand snaking around his bicep and yanking. “How dare you insinuate that I take child support money for myself. And screw you for publicly announcing our personal business.”

He doesn’t budge, but his eyes fall to her hand. “Take your hand off me, Connie. Now,” he demands in a voice low and scary.

The woman returns with his credit card, and he signs the slip, briefly showing me the tip he left. I nod approval.

“Baby, grab your stuff,” he instructs me. “We’re getting out of here.”

I’m about to tell him I can’t put my shoes on yet, but it’s not necessary when he bends and scoops me out of the chair. There’s a chorus of giggling and soft laughter that follows us out of the spa.

The blonde named Andi is laughing so hard her face is red. On our way out, he stops beside her, dips his chin in an appreciative nod, and then leaves without a word.

I was right earlier. Pierce came here today to make a statement, and he didn’t hold back. To me, to Connie, to anyone who witnessed what went down. Pierce and Darby… Darby and Pierce… Any way you say it, he’s staked his claim. He obviously doesn’t think we’re doomed.

Unfortunately, he may have also started World War III.