Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers Book 1)

by Ahren Sanders

  “I do.”

  “Then you’ll understand that I’ve had that burn scorching through me for a very long time. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to strip that pain from my daughter.”

  “No offense, but you need to remember what happened back then.”

  “I know what happened. All of it. Every word exchanged, every tear that fell, every cry of regret, and even every drink you consumed to try to run from the heartbreak.”

  I’m shocked at the last part of his statement. “Why does everyone keep insinuating this was all my fault?”

  “I don’t think it was your fault. Sure, there were some things you could have done differently, but we all make mistakes.”

  “Is that why you’re here, to throw my transgressions in my face?”

  “Nope, I’m here to tell you I walked into a room this morning where my Darby Rose was tearing herself apart again, and it has to stop.”

  He’s glaring at me with such fierce determination my chest hurts. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

  “There’s no telling what the future holds, but Annie and I know for certain Darby had an alternative reason for coming home. She loves her mom, but she’s come for forgiveness and closure. Only then can she truly move on.”

  “What the hell is it with the Graham family? Why are all of you talking in circles around me? Someone needs to spit out what you all want to say.”

  “I’ll tell you this. Darby left you for a good reason. A reason Annie and I supported one hundred percent. Evin wanted to go with her, and we practically had to tie him down to stop him from smothering her. She went away to get help.”

  “Help?” I force the word out, my heart now racing as the pain in my chest intensifies.

  “Do you still love her, Pierce?”

  I rock back at the bluntness of his question. “How can you ask me that?”

  “I’m not going to lie. I thought you two were entirely too serious at a young age. Annie made me see reason. What I saw this morning was a glimpse of that spirit Darby had. She’s sure as shit still in there somewhere, and I’m scared you’re the only one that can bring her back. Hate to say it because I’d slay dragons for my daughter, but it’s not me she wants to slay those dragons.”

  “I can not believe you are laying this on me. How can my life take such a fucked-up turn?”

  “Remember, I said it took eight years for Annie to take me back?”

  I nod, wondering what that has to do with anything right now.

  “Eight years of hell, Pierce. It wasn’t about getting my spot back in her bed. It was about getting my spot back as the man in her life. I did everything in my power, and it finally worked in my favor. There’s no way to tell how this is going to play out with you and Darby, but I pray you don’t have to go through eight more years.”

  “How screwed up would I be to walk back into the fires of hell that burned me so badly the first time? I don’t know if I want her back.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re a lie. My feet stumble to the chair, and I fall helplessly into it. “Fuck me. How did this happen?”

  “It happened because there is only one Annie for me. There is only one Jill for Warren Kendrick, and I suspect there’s only one Darby for Pierce Kendrick.”

  I scrub my hands over my face, unable to look at him.

  “I think I’m going to arrange to have those horses returned in a few weeks. You around to help?” He asks the question with such ease as if he didn’t just make me admit a life-changing realization.

  “Huh?” I swing my eyes to him, dazed.

  “Need help getting them back stabled and acclimated to our place. You around to help?”

  “I’ll let you know,” is all I can find to say.

  “I’ll let myself out.” He goes to the door and stops, twisting back to me. “For what it’s worth, I’m pulling for you.”

  Then he’s gone.

  And I’m left waiting and wondering… again.

  Chapter 8

  Darby

  “Mr. Baldwin, I understand your urgency. If you can give me one week, I’ll have an answer for you.”

  Did I just give a self-imposed timeline on my decision about joining Brasher Resorts? Shit!

  “It’s not that I want to pressure you, Darby, but we need to come to a conclusion on the building. If you want to buy it, the deal still stands,” my landlord tells me.

  “It’s a very fair offer that is still under consideration, but there are a few things I must get straight first.”

  “Maybe I should call Evin,” he wavers.

  “No. Not unless you need to chat with him about something else. Evin helped orchestrate our lease agreement because I was in North Carolina. I’m here now, so there’s no need to get him involved.”

  “I’ll touch base next Tuesday.”

  “Thank you.” I hang up and blow out a frustrated breath. My head pounds and I swear this day can’t end soon enough. When I get home, Runner and I are going on a long walk before I sink into the tub and lock away the world.

  It’s been three days since I saw Pierce, but it feels like three minutes. The familiarity and comfort of being in his arms still surrounds me, and every night when I close my eyes, his face fills my mind. That kiss… that damn kiss…

  Why didn’t I stop it sooner? How did I end up draped around him like a horny tramp? Stephanie was right; there’s no denying we still have a connection that scorches in my blood. But having a connection isn’t going to erase the past, and it’s best to remember that.

  I go around to the trunk to grab the cooler and make my way into the restaurant where Mr. Rosen is waiting.

  “Darby, I am glad you’re here.” He takes the cooler and ushers me through the restaurant to the kitchen.

  “Thank you for giving me this opportunity. Hopefully, it will work out.”

  He beams and shows me to an area where he’s cleaned off a table for me to set up a dessert tray display.

  A few good things did come out of the clash with Pierce on Sunday. When he was gone and I finally calmed down, I knew the only way to keep sane was to stay busy. As soon as Stephanie left, I took my laptop and all my notes and walked over to Mom’s, where we proceeded to fill my week up to levels of craziness. I called Mr. Rosen, and instead of meeting him today, we talked through a proposal where I’d come in and actually provide a personalized set-up of a few items for him to sell as specialty desserts tonight. It isn’t a customary arrangement, but it gives me a chance to test what may do best with their clientele.

  Between preparing for this, my regular daily quotas, and the added bonuses we promised to a few prospects, I’ve been working like crazy. Not to mention, Mom said invoices were being paid immediately because no one wanted to be dropped from my schedule for lack of payment.

  This is good. It’s the perfect distraction to keep me busy. And tonight may finally be the night I’ve pushed myself to exhaustion.

  “What can I do to help?” he offers in an overly excited chirp. His wife was right; this man is thrilled to have my creations in his restaurant tonight. A small sense of pride rushes through me, and I point to the oversized bag I dropped on the end of the table.

  “Grab the silver stands and the folder. I printed table cards with the descriptions of the desserts and the prices you set.”

  He does as I ask, sliding the cards into the swirly designed place-card holders. The display comes together beautifully, and he calls a few of the kitchen crew over for me to explain how to serve the desserts with specific toppings and sauces.

  When I’m done, the head chef helps me unload my cooler and puts everything where he wants.

  “How about a drink?” Mr. Rosen offers.

  “I’ll take some coffee.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go.”

  We go back through the restaurant to the bar, and while he gets our coffee, I take the time to appreciate the décor. This is what’s considered a fine dining establishment in Charleston, and the interior hig
hlights the old-style architecture. I’ve known the Rosen family for most of my life, but he didn’t open this specific restaurant until I was in Charlotte.

  “Have you ever eaten here?” He slides a mug in front of me.

  “Unfortunately, no. You opened after I moved, and when I come home, we prefer to do things low key at my parents’ house. But I’d love to come for dinner one night.”

  “Any night you want. You don’t even have to call ahead, just show up and tell the hostess you are my special guest. Anything you order is on the house.”

  “Not necessary, but I will be dining here soon.”

  He smiles gently and asks me the normal things about my business. I do the same, and pretty soon, we’re on the subject of family. Mrs. Rosen had done a good job of updating me on their family on Friday night, but I listen intently as he brags about his grandchildren.

  His face grows serious, and I brace myself for the question coming. “Did you ever want children, Darby?”

  “I did. I still do. It hasn’t happened yet.”

  He nods solemnly, and his eyes shoot over my shoulder, growing wide in recognition. I feel the presence behind me, but when I hear the voice, my stomach plummets.

  “Darby?”

  I twirl in my seat, coming face to face with Jill, Warren, and Miller Kendrick. Jill looks incredibly stylish in her navy jumpsuit. Then I notice Warren and Miller are not wearing their standard jeans and Kendrick Construction shirts. They’re dressed up as well.

  I mentally think through all the Kendrick birthdays, but none of them are close, so this must be some other sort of celebration. There isn’t much time to think about it because, in a second, I’m engulfed in strong arms as Warren hugs me tight.

  “Darby Rose,” he grumbles in my ear. “All grown up and still pretty as a picture.”

  “Warren.” I kiss his cheek when he sets me back on my feet.

  “Are you having dinner here?” Jill gives me a short embrace.

  “Not exactly. I provided the desserts tonight.”

  Mr. Rosen takes the opportunity to launch into the selections, and I catch the twinkle in Warren’s eye when my chocolate raspberry tart is mentioned.

  “Honey, it’s your job to keep me from overeating to save room for dessert,” he tells Jill.

  All through this exchange, I can’t miss the way Miller is glowering, nor the anger filling the small space between us. He hasn’t said a word, but the tension in his body says it all. The best thing to do would be to shut this down and get away as quickly as possible without being rude.

  “I shouldn’t keep you from your reservations,” I offer.

  “Oh, we’re early. I wanted to have a drink before dinner anyway. Maybe you could join us.” Warren gestures toward the bar.

  Miller’s jaw gets tight, and his eyes flicker with annoyance, while Jill goes statue still, her face paling.

  “I can’t tonight, but maybe another time.”

  “We insist. Let us buy you a glass of wine.”

  “Honey, Darby is busy. Let’s let her get back to her work.” Jill’s voice is nervous, and she grabs Warren’s wrist.

  “The annual Kendrick dinner. The Kendricks have been coming for years to celebrate the end of the school year with their grandchildren. We have a standing reservation,” Mr. Rosen boasts beside me.

  It all falls into place. Pierce is coming here with his children to meet the family. His… children… are… on … their… way.

  My vision gets blurry at the same time I dip down to grab my bag. My head bangs on the lower lip of the bar, and I groan at the pain radiating through me. There’s going to be a knot on my scalp, but I can’t think about that right now. I have to get out of here.

  Jill reaches an arm around my elbow, bringing me up to her face, which is edged with compassion. “Are you okay?”

  “Y-y-yes, thank you. I need to leave.”

  “Darby, I had no idea…” She trails off when Miller reaches around his mother and takes my hand. He speaks over me to Mr. Rosen.

  “We’re going out the back entrance.”

  Mr. Rosen nods, looking shaken, and I have no choice but to trudge behind Miller as he pulls me through the bar. My eyes do a sweep of the area, and I can’t help the muffled scream that escapes at the scene in the front windows.

  Pierce is there, climbing out of his truck, dressed in black slacks and a grey button-down shirt. He slams the door at the same time two children run into him, throwing their arms around him like he is the best thing in their world. Connie Webber follows with a foul expression, stabbing her finger in the air. But I can’t tear my eyes from Pierce, who shelters his kids with his arms and turns them to the restaurant.

  I think there’s a crash of something near, and I realize Miller is now carrying me, hitting a door as he takes me out.

  “I’m okay.” It comes out so faint; I wonder if he can hear.

  “I’m going to put you down. I’m going to go get your car and bring it back here so you can leave.”

  I shudder when he sets me to the ground. “I’m fine to walk around the building and drive myself.” My voice cracks.

  “I think you are a bitch, but I think less of Connie. She’s going to worm her way into our night, been planting the seeds since she found out you breezed back into town. If she catches sight of you, it’s going to be hell on wheels with Pierce. I’m doing this for my family. Give me your keys.”

  “No.” I straighten my shoulders and look into the angriest blues eyes I’ve ever seen. They are full of hatred, disgust, and absolution.

  “Goddammit, Darby, give me your keys. Pierce doesn’t deserve the only dinner of the year that celebrates Maya and Cole’s accomplishments to be marred with your stubbornness!”

  At the mention of their names, I curl into myself and throw my arm around my stomach. My fingers go into the small pocket of the bag and hand over the fob. He leaves without a second look, apparently ready for me to be out if his sight.

  Miller and I loved each other at one time. But when I was pregnant, everything changed. Pierce has no idea how his brother altered my way of thinking of leading our way into parenthood, and even then, I always loved Miller.

  And he loved me.

  Now, he detests me.

  My Infinity flies around the corner less than two minutes later, and Miller leaps out, tossing my fob on the seat and stalking to me. “Get out of here, and if you have any decency, give him the night with his kids.”

  That striking pain hits my gut, but this time, I don’t bowl over. There are a lot of things I want to spout back, but the only thing that comes out is, “Thank you.”

  He looks me over, shakes his head, and disappears through the back door of the restaurant, leaving me in humility.

  I drive aimlessly home, emotions everywhere, but no tears. I can’t do this anymore. It’s a losing battle. My business can definitely keep afloat with the way things are going now. Solid income, great word of mouth, and now a presence in the social scene. It’s all there.

  But I’m done with the cloak and dagger. It’s time to spill my guts.

  After that, I’m signing the Brasher contract.

  Chapter 9

  Pierce

  The rage inside is already brewing before I round the corner and spot the Infinity parked on the street. Darby is nowhere in sight, so I pull into the driveway slowly in case she’s waiting around back.

  Nope.

  No sign of her.

  Maya is blowing up my phone with text messages. She wants to know what we’re doing this summer since Miller mentioned us all going to Myrtle Beach. Then Connie joined in about the vacation. She felt like being with the kids was a family affair.

  At dinner, Mom looked sick, Dad looked resigned, and I was the one to point out that work was important for bills to get paid. Needless to say, my kids’ end of the year celebration was tainted with a total black cloud. That’s why Miller worked hard to cover the uncomfortable vibe and may have oversold the idea of a summer va
cation. It worked for a while.

  Then the dessert presentation came to our table. I thought Connie was going to come out of her skin when offered Darby’s selections. Dad overlooked everyone, ordered his favorites, and Mom tried to keep the peace.

  I knew something had happened before I walked into the restaurant, but Miller kept shooting me looks that told me he’d explain later. As soon as Connie drove off, he unloaded.

  I was torn between being thankful to him for stopping what could have been a nasty confrontation and wanting to kick his ass for being such a dick to Darby. She was clearly at a disadvantage in that situation. Once again, I found myself wanting to protect her, which pissed me off even more.

  I grab my phone and see three missed calls from Connie. Against my better judgment, I return her call.

  “Hey,” she answers on the first ring.

  “Are the kids okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “It was a great dinner tonight, don’t you think?”

  “It’s always a great dinner when my parents celebrate the kids.”

  “Thank you for including me.”

  “Didn’t have a choice when you put me in a bind.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. We had fun as a family.”

  “What do you need, Connie?” I walk around the corner of the house and stop dead.

  “We should talk tomorrow.”

  “About what? We had all night together.”

  “Maybe we should discuss the living arrangements again.”

  “No. I need to go.”

  I hang up and stare at the sight from the sidelight of my porch. Darby is laid out on my oversized porch swing with her arms and legs curled around the pillows, asleep. The closer I get, I notice she’s not actually curled around them; she’s clutching them securely in a protective hold. The Darby I remember was always a bed hog. She loved to spread out—arms and legs everywhere. We’d fall asleep wrapped around each other and wake up with her all over the place. Many times, we’d wake up upside down because she’d turn over, and on instinct, I’d follow. It never bothered me because I liked that, even unconscious, we fit that way. Most mornings, I’d wake up before her and lie there, listening to her shallow breaths and feeling nothing but peace.