"Just hang on, hon. You're doing great. The baby's crowned and ready. One more minute and you'll be done." Gray gave himself a mental thunk on the head for letting the we reference slip. Hadn't he learned anything from her first two deliveries? But worrying about Lori battered his defenses more than a little.
God, she was a trooper. This labor had been short but intense. She'd sworn like a crew dog during transition, and she looked ready to fling a few more curses his way.
Then she deflated back on the pillow with the end of her contraction, exhaustion stamped along the gentle curves of her face. "I wanna stop for a while." Lori gripped a nurse's hand while turning pleading eyes on Gray. "Can't we go home and finish tomorrow? I've already done this twice. Isn't it your turn yet, flyboy?"
"Next go-round, I'll see what I can do." Gray eyed the fetal monitor. Good strong heartbeat for the baby. The other line monitoring contractions inched upward, already predicting an end to Lori's brief respite. "Break's over, hon. A ten count and you're done. Come on. Bear down. One. Two. Three. Four. Good job. Almost there. Five. Six. Seven—"
He palmed the head, a rush of love already firing up his arm. Thank heaven for professional instincts. "Hold on while I turn the shoulders…"
The baby shot forward, already wailing, into Gray's waiting hands and straight into his heart. "It's a boy! We have another little boy, and oh, God, Lori, he's wrinkled, red, and scrunched but so damned perfect."
The tiny, damp body squirmed in Gray's hands and in some distant part of his mind he knew he should be evaluating. But he simply stared mesmerized until his vision blurred.
"Gray?"
His wife's voice broke through, freed a blink and a tear that Gray shrugged his shoulder to swipe away. "Yeah, hon?"
"I want to see him. Hold him."
Her whiskey warm voice drifted over Gray. Six years of marriage hadn't diluted the potency at all, merely aged and enhanced.
"You bet. Just a minute and we'll have him cleaned up for Mama." Gray made quick work of the umbilical cord and traded places with Lori's OR while the pediatrician checked and wrapped the newborn.
Wisps of hair escaped Lori's braid, caressing her damp brow. Purplish stains of weariness smudged beneath her eyes.
And she'd never been more beautiful.
Their four years in Washington had passed in a flurry of change, love, the occasional argument and more love. He still enjoyed the hell out of making-up sex.
Lori had taken a year off from work to play with Magda and teach her English. After Travis was born, Lori had cut back to half days and consulting, eventually adding John Grayson to their growing family.
The transition to military life hadn't been wrinkle free for Lori, but they'd worked together, talked, compromised and loved. His boots no longer restless, Gray welcomed the return assignment to Charleston Air Force Base to serve as Chief of Flight Medicine.
He'd missed his parents and was glad to have them close again. They spoiled their grandchildren shamelessly—giving Gray and Lori the occasional evening to themselves.
He lifted his son from the warmer, the baby now swaddled, the head of dark hair covered with a tiny cap. Gray passed their infant son to Lori as he'd done twice before with their boys and once with their daughter, Magda, who'd come to them older but every ounce as special. "Here's your mama, little guy."
Lori reached, happy tears already streaking her face. Cradling him in her arms, she opened the blanket to count fingers and toes. "Oh, Gray, he's beautiful."
"Yeah, pretty incredible." He stared straight at his wife. "I love you."
How easily the words flowed these days.
"I love you, too."
Lori tugged Gray down by the front of his scrubs for a kiss. Their lips met with a tenderness as powerful as passion. The baby squawked between them, and they pulled apart, laughing.
Gray sat on the edge of the bed, tucked Lori into the crook of his arm and admired all eight pounds three ounces of their latest son, a son they'd conceived on a midnight walk nine months ago. "Any thoughts yet on a name? Mom's got that charm on hold at the jewelers."
A mischievous smile played with Lori's full lips, stirring an urge in Gray he wouldn't be able to fulfill for six more weeks.
"How about Ryan? To commemorate our most recent night beneath Orion's belt?"
A smile of his own broke free along with a chuckle. "Ryan. I like it." He stroked a knuckle along his new son's baby-soft cheek. "Ryan Davis it is."
They sat wrapped in each other's arms and the moment, until Gray realized the room had been cleared and the doctor leaned against the wall flipping through a chart. A nurse poked her head in the door, "Colonel Clark, are you ready for the rest of your family?"
Family. What an awesome word. "Sure. Send them in."