“I love when parents don’t find out. It’s so much fun. What do you think it is?”

  “I think it’s a boy.” I look over at Jack Henry and he winks at me. “He thinks it’s a girl.”

  Amy picks up the printout and looks for a moment. “I’m going girl based on the higher heart rate.”

  I read that online. “Is that true? A girl has a faster heartbeat?”

  “It’s an old wives’ tale—and obviously isn’t a hundred percent—but I can tell you that after working here for thirteen years, I think there’s some truth to it.”

  Jack Henry is grinning, so sure of himself, as he has been since eighteen weeks when he saw the baby’s face for the first time. “She said it’s an old wives’ tale so calm down.”

  “She also said she’s worked here thirteen years and believes there’s some truth to it,” he argues.

  Dr. Sommersby comes into the room and interrupts our debate. “Are we ready to get this stitch out?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The bed is converted so my feet are placed in footrests and a speculum is inserted. “This part is just like when you get a Pap.” I try to relax, concentrating on my breathing, but I’m nervous. I researched cerclage removal before we came and most people said it hurt.

  She’s moving the speculum around and it’s a lot of pressure. I tense when I shouldn’t. “Hang in there, Laurelyn. I know it’s uncomfortable but I’ll try to keep the discomfort to a minimum.”

  I hear the sound of the scissors snip and I swear it feels like she nicked my cervix. I involuntarily jerk. “Sorry, Laurelyn. There’s a little bit of scar tissue grown over the suture so you’re going to feel a little tugging.”

  A little tugging, my ass! A much more accurate description would be that I’ll feel like my cervix is connected to a four-wheel drive and will be yanked out through my vagina. I tense again, squeezing Jack Henry’s hand, and cry out because I can’t stop myself. “Ohh …” It’s not my good kind of ohh that Jack Henry evokes. It’s my damn, I’m hurting really bad ohh. Huge difference!

  “The stitch is out so I’m going to check your cervix and see how much you’re dilated.” I feel the pressure of her fingers, which is minimally better than the speculum. “You’re between two and three centimeters so we’ll let you hang out here for a few hours and see if anything happens. I don’t want you to eat because if you go into labor, I’m not stopping you, even though you’re technically still considered preterm.”

  I know all babies aren’t the same, but Donavon was a month early and he did great. I’m not worried.

  The transformer birthing bed is converted back to normal and I get as comfortable as it will allow me to be. It’s not really a bed made for relaxation, though. “Need anything, love?”

  “I can’t think of a thing.”

  I’m observed for hours and I’m only having irregular contractions, so we’re awaiting the final verdict as Dr. Sommersby does another cervical exam. “Okay, it’s been three hours and there’s no change, Laurelyn. You’re still between two and three centimeters, so I think it’s fine for you to go home. But I want you to return for the usual things we’ve talked about—leaking, bleeding, contractions every five minutes or less for at least an hour.”

  Jack Henry smirks and wags his brows at me. I might be mad if he wasn’t so damn cute doing it.

  Dr. Sommersby leaves and I slip out of the patient gown so I can get back into my clothes. “You are loving this, aren’t you?”

  He’s watching me shimmy back into my panties. “The degree to which my happiness has risen is absurd. You’d probably want to smack me if you truly knew.”

  I put my arms through my bra straps and reach around to fasten it. “I’m pretty sure I want to smack you now.”

  “You can if you’d like because there’s no way to steal my joy—unless you change your mind. You’re not, right?”

  I consider jacking with him about it but he’s desperate. I’m not sure the poor boy could take it. “You can bone me like you own me.”

  He does another juvenile fist pump in the air. “Fuck, yes! Get your clothes on so we can get to the house—fast—and take them off again.”

  Well, at least he’s romantic about it.

  * * *

  We pull into the garage and Jack Henry, as usual, comes around to open my door and help me out of the car. I step out and he pulls me into his arms for a sweet, delicious kiss. It begins slow and rhythmic but quickly turns rushed and heated. His mouth leaves mine and trails down my neck while his hands move beneath my shirt to my pink lace bra. He rubs his thumbs over my nipples and I feel them instantly harden beneath his touch.

  I wasn’t sure I’d really feel like doing this after being placed in stirrups doing the spread-eagle with a pair of scissors stuck up my vajayjay, but Jack Henry has a way with me. I can never tell him no. Almost. I don’t have a problem with turning him down after he’s pissed me off.

  He decides he’s done with kissing in the garage and takes me into the house through the kitchen. Mrs. Porcelli is there putting away dishes when she turns to see us. “Aww … no baby today. I’m sorry, Laurelyn. I know you were hoping it would happen.”

  “It’s okay. The baby will come when he or she is ready.”

  Jack Henry wastes no time in trying to shove Mrs. Porcelli out the door. “Laurelyn and I had a big lunch in town, so I think it’ll be fine if you want to take the rest of the day off. We can have sandwiches tonight or I’ll go into town for takeout.”

  “I don’t mind staying to prepare dinner. I was planning to cook beef stroganoff.”

  I’m afraid he’s going to toss her out on her keister, so I step in to persuade her. “We had a big lunch so a sandwich is fine for tonight. You can do the stroganoff tomorrow night.”

  She looks like she’s considering it, but what she doesn’t realize is that Jack Henry isn’t giving her a choice. “I have a few things I need to take care of in town. I wouldn’t mind leaving a little early to save myself from spending Saturday doing them.”

  “Perfect. I’m glad it’ll work out so you can enjoy your Saturday off.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” She goes to the cabinet to retrieve her purse. “Enjoy your day together.”

  I blush at her words but wait until she’s gone to say anything. “She knows.”

  “Knows what?” he asks.

  As if he doesn’t have a clue what I mean. “What we’re up to.”

  “So?”

  “It’s a little embarrassing.”

  “What’s there to be embarrassed about? You’re my wife and you’re pregnant so I’m pretty sure she knows we have sex.”

  I know he’s right but I still feel awkward at times. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels weird having another person in our home privy to our personal lives. It never seems like we have complete privacy.” I try not to think of her washing our linens and seeing the evidence of our lovemaking on them.

  “Do you want me to let her go?”

  “Oh, no. I love having Mrs. Porcelli around. She frees me up to do the work I need to do.”

  “She’s getting older and has a new grandchild she doesn’t see as much as she’d like. She might be interested in cutting her hours back. That would give us more time at home, just the two of us.” I point at my belly and he laughs as he cradles it with his hands. “Pardon me, Miss Maggie James. I meant to say the three of us.” I no longer say anything about him always calling the baby Maggie James. I gave up a while ago.

  He takes my hands and pulls me out of the kitchen toward our bedroom. We’re almost through the door when he turns and cups my face, giving me another loving kiss. “I love you so very much.”

  “I love you too.”

  We move toward the bed, kissing en route, before we stop next to it. He peels my jacket from my shoulders and tosses it to the bench at the foot of our bed before pulling my shirt over my head. I’m wearing a pink lace bra, not what I consider sexy, but my breasts have gotten bigger the last couple of weeks so they’re really jacked. “These are fantastic.” He caresses each one before pulling my bra down and reaching into the cups to lift them out. He thumbs my nipples again, watching them harden before he takes one into his mouth. I glide my fingers through his hair as he sucks one and then the other.

  When he’s finished, he bends at the knees and crouches down to remove my socks and boots. I unfasten my bra while he pulls my leggings and panties down my legs. I’m left standing completely naked before him. He steps back, looking me over from head to toe, and I suddenly feel self-conscious about my body like never before. I clasp my hands in front of my large belly because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m unattractive.

  “Don’t cover yourself. I love looking at your pregnant body and the only thing I see is beauty when I look at you.” He comes to me and caresses my bump. “I may be one of those guys with a weird pregnancy fetish because this really turns me on.”

  I unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he takes care of the cuffs. After he’s shirtless, I work on his pants as he kicks out of his shoes. Teamwork. That’s why we’re a perfect pair.

  He pulls me close and my abdomen presses against his. The contact sends chills all over my body. My hair stands on end. I covet the feel of his warm skin against mine. He holds my hips as he lowers his lips to my shoulder and drags a slow kiss up toward my throat. “I want you ninety-nine different ways right now but tell me what’s going to be best for you.”

  I don’t really know. My belly wasn’t huge the last time he was on top of me. If we had continued having sex throughout my pregnancy, I’m sure we would’ve adapted our positions as I grew. But we’re going from doing it while I had a near flat stomach to … this. “I don’t know except I can’t tolerate lying flat. It makes me lightheaded.” It’s been so long and I want this to be good for him. “I can get on my stomach—sort of. I mean, I can get on all fours.” I guess I should have just said rear entry—it’s the way he loves it best anyway.

  He slides his hand down my cheek. “No, I want to see your beautiful face while I make love to you.” He pats the bed. “Sit here for me.” He reaches up to the head of the bed to grab several pillows and places them behind me. “Lean back on these.”

  My feet are on the railing of the bed and I’m in a reclined sitting position. He puts his hands under my thighs and pushes my legs back. “Feel okay?”

  I’m already rocking my hips in anticipation. “Yeah.”

  His erection is rubbing against me and I anticipate him sliding inside at any moment, but he doesn’t. I wait some more. And he still doesn’t. “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes are squeezed shut as if he’s in pain. “I’m psyching myself up so I don’t come two strokes in.”

  “Not gonna happen. But if it does, we’ll keep doing it until you get it right.” He opens his eyes to look at me and I wink at him. “Go for it, tiger.”

  He eases into me and groans, “Fuck!” He pulls back and then thrusts slowly again, appearing as though he’s savoring the best moment of his life. “I can’t believe how tight you are.” He shakes with a rigor. “My God, it’s sending chills up my spine, it feels so good.” He pushes into me a few more times. “Is this good for you, babe?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He moves his hand to where he’s moving in and out of me and strokes the sensitive spot above our union. “You like me thumbing your clit?”

  Is he kidding me? “Oh,yeah. Don’t stop.” He circles it fast and hard and then slow and soft. Just at the moment I think he’s going to alternate the strength and speed, he changes motions completely and rubs it back and forth, side to side. He’s stroking me on the outside with his fingers and the inside with his cock at the same time. He thought he would be the one to come fast, but it’s going to be me if he keeps this up. “I’m already getting close.”

  He’s moving faster now. “Do it. I want to feel your body quiver and contract around me because you’re coming hard.”

  I prop on my elbows because I want to watch Jack Henry moving in and out of me. Seeing what he’s doing and the look on his face jumpstarts the onset of those pre-orgasm sensations that will give life to the quivers low in my groin. I lean back and lift my hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. Then the first wave comes. “Ohh … Here it comes.” I clench my legs around him tight but he keeps moving when my insides squeeze around him.

  “L … ” That’s all he manages to get out and I know it’s because he’s in that place with me. I see it all over his face. Very little sets him off faster than hearing me say that he’s made me come. I think it’s because he loves knowing he’s the only man in this world holding the power to shatter me into a million magnificent pieces.

  He gives me a naughty little sideways grin and leans down to kiss one of my bent knees. “That was so fantastic.”

  I move the pillows behind me and scoot to the middle of the bed. “Come up here with me.” Since I can’t tolerate lying flat, I turn to my left side and he spoons behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and rubbing my tummy.

  The baby is active, moving all over the place. “I do believe that stirred her up.”

  When I look down, I can see the waves of movement under my skin like a restless sea. “I’m going to miss this.”

  He pulls me close and kisses the back of my neck. “You won’t because she’ll be in your arms instead.”

  Nothing is holding this baby in now. “He or she could come any day.”

  “Are you sad you didn’t go into labor today?”

  Of course, I am. “Yeah, but mostly because it’s what I’d come to expect. Clip the stitch—a baby drops out. My cervix is incompetent, so why does it decide to suddenly become capable of holding this baby in?”

  “I don’t know. You’d need to ask the good doc that question.”

  “I am a little sad we aren’t in the hospital having a baby right now, but I’m happy we’re getting this special time together before it comes.”

  He snuggles behind me and I know where it’s leading. “I’m glad you feel that way because I’ll be ready to have some more of this special time together in a little while.”

  Greedy horn dog.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jack McLachlan

  It’s been three weeks since the cerclage was removed, making Laurelyn thirty-nine weeks—seven days from her due date. To say she’s disappointed that we haven’t had a baby is an understatement. She’s beyond miserable, tossing and turning all night because she’s so uncomfortable, and last night was no different. She finally dozed off from exhaustion around three. I did as well. But now it’s barely five and she’s restless again.

  “Mmm … ohh …” I hear her moaning as she tosses in bed. That’s a new sound.

  “You okay, L?”

  “Sss … ” I hear her sucking air through her teeth. “Ooh … ”

  I sit up to turn on the lamp and see her lying on her side with her legs pulled into a half-fetal position. “What’s happening, love? Are you in pain?”

  She’s covering her face with her hand. “Mmm-hmm. Bad.”

  My heart takes off in a sprint to race my stomach up to my throat. “Is it labor pains?”

  “I think so.”

  Shit. I’ve been preparing myself for this for months but I’m seeing there is no being prepared. “When did they start?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  An hour? How did I sleep through her being in pain for that long? “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I was waiting to see if they went away. I didn’t want to get you up if it was false labor.”

  Laurelyn’s selflessness can sometimes get her in trouble. “You have an incompetent cervix. Dr. Sommersby told you to not wait around if you thought you were in labor.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait any longer because the last couple of contractions were really bad.”

  I’m out of bed and at her side to help her up. “Will you help me change into my yoga pants and a T-shirt?”

  “Yeah. Where are they?”

  “Second drawer, right side of the dresser.”

  I dig through the drawer. “The black or gray ones?”

  “Black.” I shove the others back in, not caring if they’re neat or not.

  “Which top?”

  “The cream and silver striped V-neck.”

  I help her dress and then she goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair. When she finishes, she sticks her head out. “I’m going to use the bathroom and then we can go.”

  I’m sitting on the bed with her bag in my hand when she calls out for me. I open the door and she’s sitting on the commode, her legs pressed together. “I felt pressure like I needed to use the bathroom. When I sat down, I felt something pop.”

  She wrinkles her brow when we hear something dripping. She parts her legs to look. “That’s not pee—I guess my water broke. Whatever it is won’t stop coming out and I can’t control it.” Then it’s past time to go to the hospital. “Can you get a towel for me to put between my legs? It’s probably going to gush when I stand up.”

  She places it between her legs and stands. “Eew, it feels like I’m peeing on myself. Get some more towels for the car because I have a feeling this is gonna keep coming.”

  I don’t care about the car’s seat. “We can have it recovered.”

  “It’s silly to ruin the leather by not protecting it with towels.”

  I reach into the cabinet and grab a handful. “Fine, let’s just go.”

  We get into the car and I notice her tensing and holding her breath every three or four minutes. “Just how much pain are you having?”

  “What? Like on a pain scale?” she asks.

  “Sure. One to five.”

  She grimaces and air hisses through her teeth. “Four and a half.”

  “What would classify as a five?” I probably don’t want to hear her answer.

  “My leg being sawed off without anesthesia.” Nope. Didn’t need to hear that.

  Shit. She’s going to be dilated a lot when we get to the hospital. That’s what Dr. Sommersby warned us about—a precipitous delivery. I looked it up when she used that word and it means the baby comes in under three hours from the onset of labor. She’s almost two hours into having painful contractions.