Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Get me a cold washcloth,” I bark. “How far apart are your contractions?”
“It’s coming.” She bares down, her knuckles turning white, her face bright fucking red and contorted in pain. “Arghhh.” Her entire body tenses, the veins in her neck webbing her skin like a road map.
“Oh, shit. It’s there,” Kitty screeches, pointing between Red’s legs. Lowering myself, I reach beneath her, feeling the baby’s head. There’s no waiting or going to the hospital. This baby is here.
“You’ve got this, take a big breath and push.” I guide her, mirroring what she needs to do with my own breathing.
“It hurts.” She cries.
“You won’t remember the pain when you’re holding your baby, come on, you can do this.”
“Arghhh.” She yells, taking her body to the peak of exertion.
She pushes the shoulders out and then the rest of the baby slides into my hands seconds later, water and blood gushing over my fingers.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Kitty squeals.
“It’s too late for that. Get me some towels.” My heart races as I check the baby over and clear its airways.
Two eyes, a mouth. Ten fingers, ten toes.
“I’m not due for a couple more weeks,” Red pants, groaning and baring down once more.
“You’re fine. The baby is here. You did it. Now you need to push the placenta out.” I place the baby on a towel laid out by Kitty. His little wail makes my heart bloom. Giving it everything, Red’s body tenses again as she howls.
“Don’t you have to cut that thing?” Kitty smashes her teeth together, jerking her chin to the umbilical cord.
“The hospital can do that.” I rub Red’s back, encouraging her to keep pushing until the placenta comes. “Good job.” She sags in exhaustion. “You did amazing,” I tell her, water brimming my eyes. Helping her to turn around and sit, I prop up her pillows and lift the baby from the towel, placing him on her chest.
Daddy rushes in holding a bunch of towels dripping wet, his eyes pinging to the blood and mess and the baby in Red’s arms. “Come meet our son,” she pants, a small laugh wisping from her lips.
“You did it.” He tosses the towels and comes to her side, stroking a hand through her sweat soaked hair and staring down at the new addition.
“He looks like me.” Daddy beams.
“A wrinkly old man?” Kitty guffaws. “You’re right.”
“I have a son.” He grins. Lifting the baby, Red places him in Daddy’s arms. He’s awkward at first, positioning the baby in one arm and taking Red’s hand at the same time. I fight the urge to rescue the little boy from his dad’s inexperienced arms and step back to let them have their moment.
Swiping a tear, I turn to Kitty. “How incredible.”
“I’m never having kids.” Kitty cringes. “Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital?”
“Yes, but let’s give them a minute. Childbirth is beautiful, Kit.” I sigh. A rush of emotion floods my chest.
“Tell that to her coochie.” She shudders.
Handing the baby back to Red, Daddy walks toward me with a determined gaze. Grasping my cheeks, he plants a kiss right on my lips before I can react or stop him. “Thank you for helping my woman, Princess.”
Silence fills the room before Kitty barks out, “how beautiful was that?”
I need to shower and erase that kiss from my memory with acid and a hard bristle brush.
No good deed goes unpunished.
I sense him enter the room before I feel him climbing over the bed to rest behind me. “You’re back?” I smile into the pillow, my soul seeming to settle now that Callan’s home.
“Did I wake you?” His body is close, but not touching. I yearn for his warmth.
“No, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” I stretch my limbs, ignoring the twinge of pain.
“I heard you had an eventful night.” He presses his lips behind my ear. I sigh and melt into the touch.
“A new King came into the world.” I smile. Red only needed two stitches and will come home tomorrow with her perfectly healthy baby boy.
“Do you want to go for a ride?”
That sounds ominous. “Where to?”
He kisses me on the head. “Get some warm clothes on. We’re taking my bike.”
When I get outside, he’s already on his bike and waiting for me with a spare helmet in his hand. He looks like every fantasy. That man shouldn’t be allowed to be so fucking beautiful. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I lift my leg over the bike. Slipping the helmet on, I scoot forward, my thighs clutching his, and wrap my arms around his waist.
“Ready?” I tap his shoulder to signal yes.
I’ve ridden on bikes all my life, had been on the back of Tyler’s since the age of fifteen, but there’s something different about being on Callan’s. It feels like this is where I’m supposed to be all along.