Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

“No, they had a great time. I’ve always been able to read you like a sixth sense and knew something wasn’t right. You withdrew from all of us, plainly uncomfortable.”

The spark of pain followed by unmistakable guilt in her expression says it all.

“I did fuck up.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Stop lying.” I slide my hand over her shoulders and circle her neck, running my thumbs along her jawline. She tries to look away, but I duck into her line of sight. “Baby, I’ve been aggressive, and I’m not going to apologize for that. It may make me an asshole, but my sights are set on our future and what I need to do to get us there. What I will apologize for is not seeing things more clearly from your perspective. You’re still holding things back from me.”

“I’m not,” she denies.

“I’m going to break my own rules tonight and go back in time. We’re going to clear up some things. If I think we’re still not on the same page, then we’ll do this often until you know it has always been you.”

“This is totally uncalled for. You don’t need to reassure me, and we don’t need to take a trip down memory lane. There are two human beings on this earth that are undeniable proof that it hasn’t always been me.” Her response is loaded with sarcasm and bitterness.

“I wasn’t happy,” I go on. “I wasn’t happy about the pregnancies. With each of my kids, I held on to anger at myself. Are you with me?”

“I am, but we don’t need to relive this.”

“Here’s another tidbit to add to the list of why I’m a dick. When the nurse handed them to me, the anger slowly went away, but my first thought was of the baby I lost with you. I allowed myself a split second to picture it and then came back to the hell that was my reality. This doesn’t mean that I don’t fucking love my kids. It means I gave myself the luxury of one second to wish they belonged to us.”

I caress her jawline, watching the realization followed by relief wash over her face. Mom was right. She’s lived with the assumption that Connie was able to give me something she couldn’t and heal my pain.

“Oh, God, maybe I’m not ready for this.” Her voice shudders.

“The heartache didn’t go away, not once for me,” I continue softly. “I didn’t move on, and I didn’t forget.”

“We can stop now.” The tears pooled in her eyes spill heavily down her cheeks.

“Not yet. I do listen to you, Darby, but the headstrong ass in me is insistent on tearing down your resistance. If I push too hard, you have to speak up in a way I can hear you because I’m a little deaf to your excuses.”

“You don’t say?” She cracks a sad smile.

“Another thing I need to make clear tonight. I not only want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you; I want to have that family we talked about. I want more children with you. This is probably going to set you on a downward spiral, but I’m here to catch you. You agreed to give this life with me a shot.”

She shakes her head, fear and dread spreading over her face and jumping straight to freak out mode. “No, you have to stop.”

“You’re too perfect to bury that dream. Consider this your notice to get ready. You go to Aspen and kill it. When the time comes to come home, I’ll be ready.”

She begins to shake, and I tense, ready for anything. She launches forward, colliding with my shoulder, and bursts into loud tears. “I am never, ever, in my life having a tequila laced heart-to-heart with your mom again,” she sobs.

“Yeah, baby, you are. Because, apparently, that’s when things get real, and my ass kicks into gear.”

“Pierce, your ass kicked into gear the morning you showed up uninvited to my bakery to scream at me.”

“True, but I was too slow and stupid to know how to proceed. Now, I’m brilliant in my pursuit.”

She giggles through sobs, clutching stronger.

“We have one more thing before we shower.” I kiss along the skin of her neck, her pulsing racing against my lips. “We have a rental on Kiawah Island in two weeks. It’s going to be Miller, the kids, and me. I want you with us.”

She freezes, every muscle in her body tensing. I don’t have to see her face to picture her expression. An uncomfortable silence fills the air, and I wait impatiently for her.

“I can’t,” comes out raspy, and she clears her throat a few times. “I can’t,” she says clearly this time.

“That wasn’t the answer I wanted.”

She slides her hands to my chest and presses up, placing her forehead to mine. Her cheeks are tear-stained and flushed, and her red-rimmed eyes are filled with conflict. “You know I’m going to decline, right?”