Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

“Now,” Sawyer said, massaging my tummy. “What else can I do to make you feel ready?”

I grinned at him a little sheepishly. I was in full nesting mode. I knew it. He knew it, yet he was too damned sweet to comment on my slightly hysterical need to have our home perfect for when the baby showed up.

I tilted my head, going over the mental checklist in my mind. “I think you’ve covered everything, Sawyer McCoy.” I smirked. “But there is one last thing I want.”

“What’s that?”

“A kiss,” I said, crooking my finger for him to come to me. I had long since lost the ability to reach up on my tiptoes to try and meet him halfway. Poor Sawyer practically had to bend in half to reach me.

“Always,” he said, lowering his face until his lips brushed over mine, soft at first then hungrier as he explored my mouth.

Seven months of living together, being together, and the man still took my breath away. Still ignited a fire inside me like nothing else. And we’d done our fair share of mentally growing and bonding too—without him, I’d never have the sense of trust and happiness that I did now. And without me, he wouldn’t have learned the importance of self-care, but I ensured he prioritized himself now too.

He tilted my head back, getting a deeper angle as he claimed my mouth with sweeping passes of his tongue, reminding me exactly how he felt between my thighs.

“Ow!” I jerked away from him, my hand flying to my lower back as a pain settled there. A much deeper, more intense pain than I’d been dealing with on the regular.

“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked, concern flashing in those gray eyes as he looked me over.

I took a deep breath and shifted my weight, hoping that would alleviate the pain.

It didn’t.

This time, a powerful surge of searing fire wrapped around my hips and circled to the source, my lower back. A deep cramp settled there, so much I could barely breathe.

“Echo?” Sawyer demanded.

I locked on his gaze and then smiled a near panicked smile. “It’s happening.”

He tilted his head for a second, then realization clicked, and he jolted. “It’s happening?” He gasped, then jumped into action. “It’s happening!” He raced out of the room and was back with the go-bag slung over his arm in five seconds flat—I’m not even sure if he moved that fast on the ice.

“Here we go!” Sawyer had his arms around me in an instant before he lifted me and cradled me to his chest.

“Omigod, Sawyer, I can walk!”

“You can waddle,” he said. “And that isn’t quick enough.” He hurried us through our home and settled me in his brand new Rover, a rear-facing car seat already expertly installed in the back seat.

“Slow down,” I said, cringing through what I now knew was another contraction. “You’re going to scare everyone in Reaper Village.”

“Oh, right,” he said as if I’d suddenly reminded him of something. Then he laid on his horn in a weird succession of honks.

“What the hell?”

He gave me an apologetic look before returning his eyes to the road. “Lukas worked that out with me a few weeks ago. So anyone home would know it was happening.”

I gaped at him.

“I’ll text him when I get you to the hospital,” he said. “Just in case he didn’t hear that.”

“Honey,” I said, trying to laugh but failing because of the sheer pain ripping through my lower half. “Everyone in Reaper Village heard that.”

“It’s happening,” he said again, a crazed kind of smile on his lips.

“Breathe, baby,” I said.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” He teased, but took a deep breath.

Ten minutes later, I was in a wheelchair being ushered to the room our baby would be born in.

An hour later, I was in the worst pain in my life.

But nowhere close to having our baby.

“You sure you don’t want me to call the nurse?” Sawyer asked, pressing a cold was cloth against my head. “We can get you the drugs.”

I shook my head. “I want to wait,” I said.

Sawyer sighed.

“What?” I breathed. “I don’t want it to wear off when the big show happens!”

Sawyer bit back a laugh, and I glared at him but chuckled through the pain.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” he said.

I cringed against another wave of knives stabbing my lower back. “You take beatings on the ice all the time,” I ground out.

“That’s nothing compared to this.”

I sighed as the contraction ebbed. “You know, you’re right. It totally isn’t.”

Sawyer laughed, and I managed a weak one myself.

The door to our room swung open. “Do we have a wee baby yet?” Connell said, coming into the room. Logan and Cannon followed in behind him. The two looked terribly uncomfortable while the Scotsman looked like he could check to see how dilated I was if we needed him to.