The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

14

Ryan

“I’ve gotthe night off, do you want to spend it together? We could go shopping for baby stuff before the store closes?”

Her eyes light up, but she shakes her head no. “Steph is coming over to watch a movie, I thought you’d have work... but we could all watch it together?”

I don’t miss the fact that she’s avoided the question about baby shopping. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what’s going on. She’s worried about how much it will all cost.

There’s no way I’m going to let her, or our baby, miss out on anything they want or need, but Darcy is stubborn – and proud. It’s not that I don’t understand it; she’s come from a relationship with Jacob, where she was a kept woman. She doesn’t work as much as she used to, no doubt my brother’s influence – there’s nothing that intimidates that man more than an independent woman. Finances are bound to be playing on her mind.

“What girly crap are you two watching?” I tease.

“Probably something awful if Steph has any say in it.”

“Maybe I’ll go work in my office.” I make a show of standing up, but she grabs my hand and pulls me back down to the couch before snuggling in closer.

“You’re not spending a night off away from me. And I know you secretly love a chick flick anyway.”

“Wildly untrue.” I scoff.

“I heard you singing along to Pitch Perfect the other night, you don’t fool me.”

I nip her in the ribs with my fingers. “Don’t repeat that, you’ll absolutely kill my street cred.”

She giggles and arches out of my reach. “I forgot that you’re so big and bad and have a reputation to protect.” She rolls her eyes dramatically.

“You bet your sweet little ass I do.”

I lay hands on her again, tickling her sides where I know it makes her squirm the most.

She shrieks, trying and failing to stop me.

“Ryan!” she cries.

“Promise you won’t tell,” I insist.

“I promise, I promise!”

I stop, chuckling as she catches her breath and shoots me daggers with her eyes.

“You know I hate being tickled.” She playfully smacks my arm.

“That’s what makes it so much fun.” I smirk.

She settles back in the couch, one hand on her cute little baby bump, the other on the remote, and she scrolls through Netflix, no doubt looking for the most girly movie on there to torture me with now that I’ve crossed the line with tickling.

I don’t give a shit what we watch; I’d sit through anything for this woman.

I slide a hand in next to hers; it’s still hard for me to believe that she’s growing our baby in there. It’s incredible when you think about it. A human growing inside another human. Wild.

“If you put on Fifty Shades, I really am leaving,” I warn as she pauses on the title.

She giggles, her eyebrow raised in challenge, but thankfully she keeps scrolling.

“What about –” Her sentence is cut off. “Did you feel that?” she demands.

Her eyes are wide in shock.

She gasps, and this time I feel it too. The baby – it’s kicking.

“Holy shit.”

She nudges my arm, her eyes still wide. “No swearing in front of the baby, if we can feel it, surely it can hear us.”

I chuckle and immediately feel another flutter under my palm.

“I think the baby likes your laugh,” she says in wonder.

“We need a nickname for this kid,” I tell her. “I’m sick of saying ‘it’ and ‘the baby’.”

“I’ve been using ‘peanut’,” she murmurs, still sitting motionless, waiting to feel another flutter.

“Peanut it is.” I nod.

I hear the front door open and shut.

“Come on, Peanut, kick for Daddy,” I coo at Darcy’s stomach.

“The baby’s kicking now?” Steph asks excitedly as she breezes into the room and takes in the two of us snuggled on the couch.

Darcy nods her head in short, sharp bobs. “For the first time just now.”

She lets out an excited shrieking noise, kicks off her shoes and makes a beeline for us.

“Get out of the way, baby hog, it’s my turn.”

I chuckle, and reluctantly move my hand out of the way for Steph to have space to lay her hand on Darcy’s stomach.

“Hello to you too,” Darcy teases.

I smile as I watch Steph slide in next to her. I love how comfortable she and Freya are here. Neither woman feels the need to knock or ask to get a drink or something to eat. They make themselves at home – because they can feel that this is Darcy’s home, and they’re a package deal, the three of them.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I just hope that one day Rebel might be a part of this too. She’s my best friend, and even though I’ll be completely and utterly outnumbered, I wouldn’t really mind. Life would be pretty much perfect.

“Why isn’t it doing anything?” Steph pouts after a minute of nothing.

“She was contemplating watching a kinky movie the first time it happened; maybe we should put on some porn?” I suggest with a smirk. “Might get things moving.”

“We are not watching porn,” Darcy deadpans, giving me a ‘watch yourself’ look.

I know the baby has kicked again because both women’s eyes fly to Darcy’s stomach.

“I felt it!” Steph says. “Your baby is a little horn dog.”

“Steph!” Darcy scolds her. “Don’t call my baby a horn dog.”

“Fine,” she replies, sassily. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. One mention of porn and it’s having a party in there. I bet it’s a boy. No girl gets that excited about porn.”

I can’t help but laugh at the horrified expression on Darcy’s face and the utterly convinced one on Steph’s.

I don’t say it out loud, but I’d love a boy – if nothing else, it would help balance out numbers around here.

“You really are something else. I can’t wait for you and Mark to have a baby one day. I’m going to make the most inappropriate comments.”

She leans back in her seat, tucking her feet under her bum. “Don’t you be putting that out into the universe. You might be happy growing a bun in your oven, but I’m not ready. I can barely keep myself on schedule let alone a small human as well.”

I chuckle and take the remote from where Darcy has left it lying on the couch. I’m pretty confident Steph can’t keep to any type of schedule whatsoever, but I’m not about to burst her bubble.

“Men in Black?” I suggest hopefully.

“No,” they both reply in unison before going back to their conversation which I tune out. There’s only so much girl talk my masculinity can handle.

“Shooter?” I try.

I don’t even get a reply, just matching ‘absolutely not’ looks.

“The Notebook?” I joke.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Steele,” Steph replies, snagging the remote from my hands before I even register the action.

“I was kidding.” I reach after her, but she’s already pressing play.

Darcy just giggles and gives me a look. “It was your idea.” She shrugs.

“Honestly? You’re going to make me watch The Notebook? Shall I just give you my balls so you can keep them in your purse?”

“I could put them in mine, they can keep Mark’s company.” Steph smirks.

Darcy shakes her head in amusement and wiggles her butt forward to get up. “I’m making popcorn.”

I rest my hand on her thigh. My princess... no movie is complete without a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn.

“I’ll get it. You stay and catch every second of this girly crap. I’d hate for you to miss even a glance at Ryan Gosling.”

She grins at me, more than happy with that deal.

“So much for not being a fan, you know the actor’s name.” Steph smirks.

I flip her off, get to my feet and head for the kitchen. Hell, maybe I’ll whip up a three-course meal while I’m in here – anything to try and salvage the last part of my manhood and get me out of tearing up about a love story.

* * *

“You’re up early.”I kiss the top of Darcy’s head on my way to the coffee machine.

She’s sitting on a stool, a cup of tea next to her and her laptop open.

I don’t know what time she woke, but when I opened my eyes this morning, she was gone from next to me.

“Thought I’d make a start on this week’s column.”

I pour a cup of black coffee and turn back to face her.

“What’s this one about?”

“Fast fashion. It’s encouraging people to think before they buy. To buy more sustainable products and items that are more diverse.”

“I’ll look forward to reading it.”

She nods her head at me, and I can tell by her expression that she doesn’t believe I’d ever read her articles.

Little does she know, I have every magazine that her writing is featured in, from every week since the day I met her. They’re collecting dust in a big box in my garage, but I have them and I’ve read them all. Every single one.

Ever since she told me what she did, with such passion, I’ve hung on her every written word.

Five years ago:

“What do you do for a living, Clark?”

I smirk at the use of the character name. I tried to tell her my real name earlier, but she told me to shush, that’d I’d ‘ruin it’ or something.

“Family business,” I answer vaguely.

She raises a brow at me but doesn’t push it further.

“What about you, Barbie?”

She smiles. “I write for a magazine. I only get a weekly column right now, but I work behind the scenes on a lot of content for the magazine and also with some of the authors who are publishing through our sister company.”

“You’re a writer.” I nod. That fits with what I know of her so far. I bet she’s brilliant.

She scrunches up her nose. “Sort of. I only have one little column. I’d love to get into some of the bigger articles, and I’ve always dreamed of writing a novel one day. Maybe a thriller... or a mystery. I have a lot of ideas, I just don’t know if anyone would want to hear them.

“I want to hear them,” I reply simply. “I want to hear them all.”

“I’ve been thinkingabout asking for some of my hours back... I gave up pretty much everything else I was doing, except my column... I was just thinking maybe I could do a little more. Working from home of course.” She lifts one of her dainty shoulders in a half-shrug.

She’s watching me carefully, gauging my reaction. It takes me a minute to understand why she’s acting like she needs my approval.

Because she needed his.

I bet she gave it up for my dipshit brother and his out-of-control ego.

I can just picture him strutting around, telling her that she didn’t need to work. He wouldn’t have liked her independence. I’m sure he would have much preferred that his pretty little wife be at home, waiting for him every night with dinner on the table.

He wouldn’t have wanted her to work – and she would have complied.

Instinctively, I want to tell her that I’m more than happy to support her financially now and for the rest of her life if that’s what she wants, but I don’t think that is what she wants. She’s telling me exactly what she wants – I just have to listen.

She wants to be treated as an equal, and in her mind, that means contributing to the finances, however unnecessary that might be in my mind. This isn’t about me, this is about her.

“Sounds good, princess. Can’t hurt to ask, right? See what they have available that interests you,” I reply casually.

She brightens instantly and releases a nervous breath.

I swear to God, every single day this woman shows me another little part of her that Jacob has broken or cracked. It makes me want to peel the skin from his bones and pull him apart piece by piece. He abused her. He might never have laid a finger on her physically, but he’s emotionally damaged her, and it’s up to me to find a way to help her put those pieces back together.

“I mean, they might not have anything, or whatever, but it’s worth asking. They might need help with the manuscripts,” she rambles excitedly.

“You could always start working on a book of your own.”

Her eyes, that had drifted to her computer screen, flash back to my face.

“I’ve always wanted to write a book.”

“Mmm?” I feign surprise as I sip my coffee.

She nods. “Since I was a kid.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

She shrugs. “I don’t really know the first thing about writing a book.”

“You’re a born storyteller, Darce, just open a blank document and start typing – see what comes of it.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I guess I could give it a go.”

“I think you should do whatever makes you happiest. If that’s more hours at the magazine, then do that, if it’s finding hidden gems in other people’s words, then do that. And if you want to write something for yourself then you know I’ll support you with that too.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. She looks yet again, like she’s going to cry.

“I won’t let you struggle, princess. We’re a team, I’ve got you and you’ve got me. We’re in it together. I just want you to be happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

We stare at each other in silence for a few beats. I don’t think she knows what to say, I can only hope that means I’ve said the right thing.

“Sometimes I hope the baby is going to be a girl, because she’d be the luckiest little girl in the world to have a daddy so sweet and considerate.” I’m surprised by her train of thought, but I let her continue. “But now, just right now in this moment, I’ve decided that I hope it’s a boy – the world needs more men like you, Ryan. You’re unbelievable. If we had a son and he grew up to be half the man you are, I’d be the proudest mother on earth.”

She’s got me blushing now – a rare occurrence, but there’s just something about praise from her, it means more than it does from anyone else.

“I love you, Darcy.”

Her mouth falls open and she blinks at me, once, twice and then a third time.

I cross the room to stand in front of her, so I can touch her while I repeat the words I know she heard but hasn’t seemed to absorb.

I take both of her hands in mine and look down into those brilliant eyes. God, I hope our little peanut gets those eyes. They’re my favourite part of her.

“Darcy Shearer, I love you, so fucking much.”

Tears pool in her eyes and she pulls me closer, burying her face against my chest. “You love me?” she asks, her unsure voice muffled against my shirt.

“Yes, I love you, princess,” I say with a grin. She’s so fucking sweet.

I can feel my shirt getting wet from the moisture spilling out of her eyes.

She sniffs a few times and then finally looks up at me, her eyes glassy. “I love you too, Ryan.”

So much sincerity, truth and love.

Those are words I’ve dreamed of hearing for over eighteen hundred days.

I try to clear my throat, it feels thick, like all my emotions are stuck in there. And all of a sudden, she’s not the only one with glassy eyes.