Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

“You brought wine?”

“Nope, but I saw some in your kitchen.”

“You were in my house?”

I wave my beer as my answer.

“How did you get in?”

“Used the hidden key.”

“My parents never moved that?”

“Apparently not.”

“Good to know.”

There’s a beat of silence before she reluctantly trudges up the stairs. “Look, Pierce—”

“Where have you been?”

“I spent the day doing administrative work with Evin. We just finished dinner.”

“What about when you left last night? You didn’t come home.”

“H-h-how do you know that?” she stutters.

“I came looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you were sick, and I was worried.”

“It was intense, but you don’t need to worry. I’m okay now.”

“Intense?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, it was excruciating.” Her shoulders slump lower, and her neck rolls back.

“Baby, you’ve always been breathtaking to me, even when exhausted, but you’re dead on your feet. Why don’t you go inside and change so we can have this conversation where you’re more comfortable?”

She whips her face to mine, shock flaring in her expression. Then she twists and turns, looking around like she’s confused. “This looks like the same shed. Last I checked, I still lived here. But for some reason, I feel like I’ve walked through to an alternate universe. Where’s my dog?”

“Runner got quite the workout today. Last I saw, he was passed out on the living room rug.”

Her fingers give out, and the bag makes a loud thud on the deck. “You took Runner with you?”

“Edward did.”

“What’s happening?”

“Go change. I’ll get your wine.” I stand.

“Aren’t you furious with me?”

“Furious with a lot of things, but none of them are you.”

“But—”

“Honey, please go change.” I catch the trace of recognition in her eyes at the gentle tone of my voice, the same voice that was always my weapon of pushing her to get moving.

Thankfully, she listens and goes into the house. I grunt at the weight of the bag as I haul it inside and place it on her desk. Runner barely moves as I step over him and head to the kitchen, finding what I need.

A few minutes later, she reappears in the living room, and Runner instantly gets to his feet, pouncing over and almost knocking her down as she wobbles back on one leg.

“Runner, no!” comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, and both of them freeze.

“He’s not going to trample me.”

“He almost took you down.”

She rolls her eyes and talks to the dog. “It’s okay. He doesn’t know how long we’ve been doing this. I can handle you.”

He bumps against her jaw a few times then gets down, circling behind and plopping at her heels.

“That looks nice.” Her chin jerks toward the glass of wine I’m holding.

“Get your ass over here, and it could be all yours.”

Her lips crinkle in a small smile, and she comes my way, stretching her hand when she’s close.

“I want one of those hugs.”

The smile vanishes. “Not a good idea.”

“It’s a very good idea,” I argue.

Her feet shuffle slowly, keeping her eyes on mine with uncertainty building. I place the wine on the counter and haul her the rest of the way, cradling her as close as possible. Immediately, her scent is everywhere, and my heart hammers in my chest, knowing she can feel it. “Fuck, Darby. I’m sorry, baby. Sorry to the bottom of my goddamn soul. I shouldn’t have unleashed on you the way I did. It was a massive mistake on my part,” I say softly into her hair.

Her body quivers against mine, but finally, she grabs hold of my waist and bundles my shirt. “I’m not sorry. At least, not about that. That was the part of our fight that actually gave me relief.”

“Relief? There is no excuse for the way I spoke to you.”

“No, but it was heat of the moment wrath. In the most bizarre way, it gave me peace of mind.”

I rear back to see her face, and my own breath catches. “How?”

She sucks her bottom lip through her teeth, contemplating something, and then clutches my shirt firmer. “I thought you’d moved on, that you actually had feelings for her. It makes me an awful person to be relieved at the truth, and I should be ashamed. Maybe, one day, I will be. I mean, she is the mother of your children, and it is awful that I’m happy she—”

“I never moved on from you.” I cut her off. “I was forced to get my shit together and face the music because it was about the welfare of my daughter and, later, my son. Last night was the first time in my life I said the gruesome details of how Connie got pregnant, and I got carried away. How fucked up is it that I’ve never even slept in the same bed or held the hand of the woman that had my kids?”

She winces painfully, and I catch the sadness creeping in. It’s time to shift this conversation before we go too far again. “You said a lot of things, too.”