Love Me (One Night with Sole Regret 12)

“Tow it,” Chad snapped. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m not leaving her alone.”

Now that Lindsey’s pain had diminished—at least for another eight minutes or so—Lindsey was thinking a bit more clearly.

“Let the lady do her job,” she said before kissing Chad. “Go park the car and call Owen. Tell him to call everyone else on our list, okay?”

“But—”

“Please hurry,” she said. “You need to get all that done before the baby is born. The longer you wait—”

He set her in the wheelchair and lifted her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I love you. I’ll be right back. Don’t have that baby without me.”

“I love you too!” she called after him as he raced away.

By the time Chad returned, she’d been checked by a midwife and found to be dilated to seven centimeters, admitted into her room, and dressed in a hospital gown. Now she was being hooked up to an IV.

He rushed to her side and stroked her hair from her face, kissing her lips. “Sorry I took so long. I couldn’t find a place to park, and I couldn’t get ahold of Owen, so I called Mom and she wanted to chat.”

“It didn’t take you long,” she assured him, fingering the scar over his ear.

“Did they say when she’ll be born?” He slid a hand over her belly.

“Anywhere from ten minutes to six hours from now.” She laughed at his incredulous expression. “But probably an hour or two.”

“Mom says not to have that baby until she gets here.”

“I’ll try not.”

“She also said you should have warned her that you were going to have the baby two weeks early. Your surprise baby shower is tomorrow, and you’ve ruined everything.”

Lindsey covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “A surprise shower. . . She did that? For me?”

“Are you surprised?”

Not really. Joan was good to her.

“It’s been hard keeping it a secret,” he added.

“You knew?”

“She only told me yesterday, but she’s been planning it for weeks.”

“I guess that’s why she was being so nosy about my past family and friends.”

“Nah,” he said with a laugh. “She’s always nosy.”

Now that Lindsey was no longer panicked that she’d end up giving birth outside the relative security of the hospital, she could relax and think and talk. Chad tried to make her as comfortable as possible by offering more back rubs, ice chips, and gentle words of reassurance even when she was cussing through her contractions. An anesthesiologist had been called to give her an epidural but had yet to arrive. She was starting to think she didn’t need one. Not because the contractions didn’t hurt, but because the pain seemed worth it. Soon she’d be able to hold Daisy and see her, smell her, kiss and cuddle her. Lindsey couldn’t wait to meet her daughter.

“Did you mean what you said about getting married?” Lindsey asked Chad between contractions.

Chad had been staring at a monitor but went completely still—as if he’d turned into a possum and thought she wouldn’t be able to see him if he didn’t move.

She plucked at the sheet covering her legs. That was fine. She didn’t need to be married, and she didn’t want to pressure Chad into doing something he wasn’t ready to do. She wasn’t sure that she was ready for marriage either. Being a new mom would be challenging enough without adding being a new wife to the mix.

“I meant it,” he said, still not looking at her. “I shouldn’t have blurted it out the way I did, though.”

“Why not?”

“I should have prepared what I’d say and done something special and gotten a ring. So pretend I didn’t mention it, and I’ll surprise you with a real proposal someday.”

“I don’t need all that,” she said. “And I already have your ring.”

He sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand. “What are you talking about?”

“The ring Josie returned to you. I still have it in my purse.”

He cringed. “You were supposed to pawn that. It’s cursed.”

“It’s pretty,” she said. “And I don’t care that it used to be Josie’s.” As soon as the words were out, she knew she was lying, because she was hit with a bout of extreme nausea.

“Well, I care,” he said. “It’s bad enough that you have to accept Josie’s used fiancé. There’s no way in hell you’re wearing her used engagement ring. Are you in that much of a rush to get a ring on your finger?”

She hadn’t been before, but now that he’d broached the subject, yes! But she said, “No. Take your time. I can—” Another contraction gripped her midsection, and she tried breathing through it to keep the swear words locked inside, but it was no use. “Son of a hell-born bitch. How do I keep forgetting how much these fucking hurt when there are only seven pain-free minutes between these rancid cunt-whores?”

“Six minutes between now,” Chad informed her. He gritted his teeth. “You’re breaking my fingers.”

“Would you rather I shove a cantaloupe up your ass and let you try to push it out?” she shouted at him.

“I’ll pass.”

“I might give it a try,” Owen said from the doorway. “Sounds kinky. Can I come in?”

“I’d wait thirty seconds if I were you,” Chad warned.

“Why thirty seconds?”

“She hasn’t gotten her epidural yet.”

She cursed the anesthesiologist, the inventor of IVs, and the taupe wall color before the pain finally lessened and she took a breath.

“Chad said he couldn’t reach you,” she said, panting in Owen’s direction. She released Chad’s hand, and he gave it a shake.

“I got his message,” Owen said. “Is it safe to enter now?”

“You’ve got six minutes before the scary returns,” Chad said, massaging his knuckles.

“I’m not scary!”

“Of course, you aren’t, angel. Ice chip?”

She was thirsty, so she

opened her mouth, and he scooped in a few bits of unsatisfying ice. She’d save cursing out ice chips to accompany her next contraction.

“I’m surprised Mom isn’t here yet,” Owen said as he approached the bed.

“She’s picking up someone from the airport,” Chad said.

Owen frowned. “Who?”

Chad shook his head and glanced pointedly at Lindsey, who narrowed her eyes.

“Are you keeping something from me?” she asked.

Before he could answer, the anesthesiologist arrived with his scary arsenal of long-ass needles.

“I think we should grab a cup of coffee,” Owen said, looking a bit green as he eyed the doctor’s instrument tray.

“I’m not leaving her by herself,” Chad said.

“But you hate needles,” Owen said.

“Does anyone actually like needles?” Chad asked.

“I love them,” the doctor quipped. He held up a frighteningly thick one and cradled it in both palms as if it were a treasured newborn.

Lindsey whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand searched blindly for something to cling to and found Chad’s hand again. Owen stepped out of the room when they positioned Lindsey on her side and had her round her back so the doctor could insert the catheter between her vertebrae. She was suddenly rethinking the epidural thing.

The doctor numbed her skin with a local and waited for her to suffer through another contraction before he got serious. The grinding sensation of the needle against bone was the worst of it. She experienced no discomfort when the needle was inserted or when the catheter was threaded into place. Anesthetic was administered through the catheter, and the numbing sensation spread outward far more quickly than she’d anticipated. Chad held her hands the entire time, but didn’t watch. His face was buried in the bed beside her.

Lindsey’s next contraction was only a minor discomfort. She could vaguely feel that it was happening, but it didn’t hurt.

“Oh my, that’s better,” she said, smiling at Chad, whose face was now inches from hers. Only six minutes before, that would have been a dangerous position to place himself. Her nurse checked her progress again—eight centimeters and progressing nicely—before stepping out of the room and promising to return soon. She made Chad promise to alert her immediately if Lindsey had an urge to push.