Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

“You don’t need to repay me. We’re a team,” I whisper tenderly.

“My kids are upstairs, safe, and under my roof until this thing with Connie levels out. I should be content, relieved, even happy, but all I can think about is how I lied to you.”

“What did you lie about?”

“I’ve been working hard to convince you we can put the past behind us, but it’s not possible for me. I’m never going to forgive myself for being the arrogant, cocky, untouchable boy who let you go. You came face-to-face last night with a woman who made your life hell, all because of me. I didn’t shield you from her.”

“I’m not scared of Connie Webber; therefore, no one needs to shield me from her. As for the past, you can’t take all the responsibility on yourself. I played a huge part in that.”

“You were hurting.”

“I was, and you know what came out of it? Tons of therapy. Maya and Cole’s disappearance triggered how you felt when we suffered our loss. You’re going through some personal reflection now, but let it go.”

“How?”

“I have a suggestion, but it’s going to sound a bit unconventional.”

“I’m listening.”

“If I didn’t leave, you wouldn’t have Maya and Cole. Can you imagine your life without them?”

“No, but it’s no consolation on my regrets and what I missed out on with you, with us.”

I rack my brain with how to get through to him, and my solution is going to put me in the hotseat, but it’s not like I can avoid this subject much longer. “Do you want more children with me, Pierce?”

“Almost as much as I want us married and you here on a daily basis.” He doesn’t hesitate.

“How many?”

“As many as you’ll give me.”

“Realistically, how many?”

“I’d like four but could be convinced to stop at three.” His features soften, a little of his sadness easing away. He’s catching on.

“Good Lord, are you serious?”

“I could also be convinced to keep going past four.”

His expression shows a hint of humor, but otherwise, he’s serious. I swallow hard, knowing I’m signing an invisible contract that is probably going to bite me in the ass.

“If it’s possible, I’ll give you three. We’ll get back what we lost. Having babies, living in pandemonium because the children will outnumber us, fighting off our families who will undoubtedly intrude every chance they get. Our lives will be chaotic and crazy, and we’ll never retire because we’ll have five college tuitions looming over our heads. Do you think that could help you move on from these feelings of regret?”

“Raise that number to four, and I’ll find a way to forgive myself.” He grins smugly.

“Where the hell are we going to fit six children?”

“That’s my area of expertise. You won’t need to worry about that.”

I let out a hmpf, knowing he would find a way to move mountains if I agree to give him what he wants. “We will start with one.” I give a little.

“Today.”

“Today, what?”

“We will start working on that first one today.”

“Nope! I draw the line at that. I’ve dreamed about my wedding to you for far too long to miss the festivities. Endless champagne and martinis, dancing until dawn, spa treatments, and girl’s trips to shop for dresses. My menu includes an ice sculpture that holds a full oyster bar and seared ahi tuna that melts in your mouth. I have my eye on a wedding dress that will not work with a baby bulge. A shotgun wedding would not be conducive to any of my plans.”

As I speak, his eyes grow wider and wider in shock. He has no idea how much time I’ve spent with Renee, going over the finest details. “You found a dress?” is the only thing he says.

“I think so.”

“And it won’t work with a bulge, so does that mean it’s tight?”

“It’s fitted, not tight. Tight would indicate tacky.”

“How fitted?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out.”

“If I’m hearing you right, I’m going to get a night with endless amounts of you drinking champagne, eating oysters, and dancing around in a tight dress that molds to your curves, ass, and tits. All in exchange for waiting to try and have a baby?”

Like I said, I knew this would bite me in the ass. “Yep.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Don’t forget, you’ll get your wife, too.” I throw his words back at him from the night by the fire in Aspen.

“I’ll get my wife.” He seems to process this, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, the wheels in his head spinning. “How long until the wedding?”

“Not long at all. Just a few months.”

“Get yourself sorted, see your doctors, get off the pill, purge your system, or whatever it takes to be ready, and I’ll agree to give you until May eighteenth.”

“Why don’t we see how things go living together, get through the wedding, and—”