THE LAST CALL
A MMG Novel by RB Hilliard
Copyright © RB Hilliard, 2017
Kindle Edition
Edited by: C Brose and Petra Gleason
Cover by Tania Marinaro
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Warning: This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Names, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any similarities to real persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to YOU.
Thank you for joining me on this amazing journey.
Thank you for loving these characters as much as I do.
Thank you for the PM’s, pimping, and endless support.
Most of all, thank you for believing in me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One – Isabella and Dillon
Chapter Two – Sarah and Cas
Chapter Three – Ellie and Max
Chapter Four – Piper and Gage
Chapter Five – Joss and Kurt
Chapter Six – Polly and Harry
Chapter Seven – Max and Ellie
Chapter Eight – Cas and Sarah
Chapter Nine – Gage and Piper
Chapter Ten – Dillon and Isabella
Chapter Eleven – Cas and Sarah
Chapter Twelve – Piper and Gage
Chapter Thirteen – Polly and Harry
Chapter Fourteen – Max and Ellie
Chapter Fifteen – Dillon and Isabella
Chapter Sixteen – Cas and Sarah
Chapter Seventeen – Sally
Chapter Eighteen – Joss and Kurt
Chapter Nineteen – Piper and Gage
Chapter Twenty – Cas and Sarah
Chapter Twenty-One – Max
Chapter Twenty-Two – Ellie
Acknowledgements
Other Books by RB Hilliard
RB Hilliard’s Links
Welcome to The Last Call.
Where Max and Ellie finally get their end game and Gage and Piper reap the benefits from not letting go.
Welcome to The Last Call.
Where Dillon and Isabella realize what one more time really means and Kurt and Joss are flipped right side up.
Welcome to The Last Call.
Where Cas and Sarah figure out how to keep it simple and Harry and Polly take a chance on love.
Welcome to The Last Call.
Where friends come together as family and family means everything.
Welcome to The Last Call.
Where new beginnings are just around the corner…
Chapter One
Isabella and Dillon
‡
Isabella
“Don’t push.”
“I’m not going to push,” I panted. I was in pain, but I wasn’t anywhere near the pushing phase, yet.
“You look like you want to push,” Dillon argued.
“Would you shut up about pushing.” I hissed through tightly clenched teeth.
“I took your mind off the pain of the contraction, didn’t I?” His smug expression made me laugh.
“It feels like my body’s being turned inside out,” I whined.
“I know, baby. I would take your place if I could,” Dillon empathized.
“You wouldn’t last three seconds,” I countered. Another contraction came and went. As I relaxed back onto the mountainous stack of pillows, I glanced down at my husband’s jean covered crotch, and announced, “I’m breaking up with you.”
Nudging my arm, he muttered, “Scoot over, sweet cheeks.” Humor colored his voice, but I was too tired to care. He could laugh all he wanted. We’d see who had the last laugh when I refused to have sex with him ever again. After hours of labor with very little progress, all I wanted was this child out of my belly…and sleep, days of uninterrupted sleep. Yeah, right. I was never going to sleep again after I managed to squeeze this baby out. With a loud groan, I managed to move my huge ass over enough for Dillon to scoot in behind me. As he began to rub my shoulders and lower back, I felt the tension ease. “I can’t wait to meet her,” he whispered in my ear.
My husband, bless his giant heart, thought we were having another girl. I knew better. He wasn’t in the picture when I carried our daughter, so he didn’t get to see the difference between the two pregnancies. Not only was I sick as a dog with Amelia, I was ten times smaller. Nope, this was definitely a boy, and, judging by the size of my belly, he was going to be a bruiser. I can’t wait to see Dillon’s expression when he meets his son. That’s if his son would ever get here. With that thought, a massive contraction seized my lower back. When it curved around to my belly I fought the urge to scream – God, how I wanted to scream. When my obstetrician, Dr. Stimson, waltzed in looking all rested and relaxed, I bared my teeth like an animal and literally growled at him.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Whitaker?” he practically sang.
“Epidural, now,” I ordered.
“Let’s check to see how far along you are,” he replied. “Status?” he asked my attending nurses.
“Thirty minutes ago she was at a four. Contractions are approximately seven minutes apart,” one of the two nurses replied. I think her name was Wendy, but it might have been Karen. I wasn’t paying attention when they introduced themselves.
“Do you need me to move?” Dillon asked.
I clamped down on his hand, which was perched on top of my belly, and said, “Not yet.” Dillon wasn’t there when I gave birth to our daughter. He’d missed so much. Having his support through this pregnancy made me realize how brave – and stupid – I was the first time around. As the nurse attached the stirrups to the foot of the bed, I thought about Amelia’s birth, and how I wouldn’t have survived it without Sally. Where are you, Sal? The doctor rolled up to the foot of the bed, and Dillon tensed behind me. I turned my head and quietly explained, “He’s just checking to see how far along I am. If I’ve dilated enough, he’ll order the epidural.” There was no way in hell I was having this baby without an epidural.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable pressure, Dr. Stimson rolled back, stripped off his gloves, and smiled. “You’re at a five and ready for the epidural,” he announced.
“Oh, Thank God,” I breathed.
Dillon tensed behind me. “And this is my cue to leave,” he announced.
Dr. Stimson chuckled. “Not a fan of needles, I take it?”
“Nope,” Dillon answered.
“Then I suggest you take a fifteen minute breather. Your wife is in excellent hands, I promise.”
Dillon started to scoot out from behind me, and I grabbed his hand. “Babe, I can’t –” he started to say.
“Will you check and see if Uncle Charlie made it?” I cut him off before he could finish whining about the big, bad needle. The moment I was admitted to the hospital, Dillon called Uncle Charlie to let him
know what was happening. We hadn’t heard from him since, and that was over five hours ago.
I felt his lips on the side of my head. “I’ll find him. Be back in a bit,” he whispered in my ear.
Right as he hit the door, I called out, “Babe?” His silver eyes turned to me in question. “Will you also look for Sally?”
“Ibby,” he warned, and before I could respond he was out the door.
Damn!
A little less than four months ago my best friend, Sally, did something crazy stupid. On a scale of one to ten, it was maybe a six for Sally, but to those who didn’t know her, it was a twelve. Up to this point her crazy had been just that – crazy. This time, however, her poor judgment almost got people killed. She lost her job at LASH, which devastated her. I loved Sally beyond words. She’d been there for me when no one else was, but the girl was about as mule headed as they came. Even when she knew she was in the wrong, which was most of the time, she refused to admit it. So instead of apologizing for almost getting Cas and Sarah killed, and attempting to make it right like she should have, she got angry. Not only did she get angry, she took a job at Whisky’s, which seriously pissed off Dillon and Kurt, and stopped talking to all of her friends. The last time I’d set eyes on my best friend was three months ago when I dropped by her new apartment unannounced and found her with her bags packed and waiting on a cab. When I asked where she was going, she gave me a vague answer about how she was taking an extended vacation. We both knew the truth. She was running away. Never, in all the years we’d been friends, had I seen Sally run from anything. Before I could find out more, the cab pulled up. She told me she would be in touch, and then she was gone. That was the last I’d seen or heard from her. To say I was hurt was an understatement. Last week I asked Dillon to find her. He was beyond furious with Sally and felt she’d grossly mishandled the situation with Sarah. I couldn’t disagree, but she was my best friend. She’d been there for me through some of my darkest days. When Dillon refused to help me, I turned to Cas. This got back to Dillon, which started a huge fight. I couldn’t help but worry. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut. The Sally I knew wouldn’t miss the birth of my child for anything.
When Dillon returned, I could tell by his expression I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“No Sally?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Sorry babe, you know Sally. She’ll surface eventually.” I blinked back the tears. My best friend was missing and nobody seemed to give a damn. What if she doesn’t surface? I wanted to scream. Two weeks from now she was supposed to be standing beside me as a bridesmaid in Sarah and Cas’s wedding. What if she didn’t show? What if something horrible had happened to her?
Sally, where are you?
* * *
Dillon
As I watched my beautiful wife fight back the tears, I wanted to hurt someone, particularly Sally Fucking Wilder. What was she thinking? That was just it, she wasn’t thinking. Like always, Sally wasn’t thinking about anyone but herself. I loved her like a sister, but she was a spoiled, self-centered brat. My girl deserved better. As far as I was concerned, life had been so much easier…more stable… since Sally’s disappearing act. Ibbs wanted her back, but I wasn’t so sure I did.
“What about Uncle Charlie?” Isabella asked, once she’d pulled herself back together.
I lifted her hand to my lips and gently kissed it. “He said to hurry up. He’s hungry for lunch and doesn’t want to eat hospital food.” Her laughter filled the room and my heart swelled with love.
“And Amelia?”
“At the moment she’s perched like an angel in Sarah’s lap enjoying a snack of pretzel goldfish.” Her brow quirked and I fought the urge to drop a kiss on it. Isabella Whitaker was my life. Before she waltzed into my life and turned it upside down, or should I say right side up, I was a shell of a man.
“She’s such a sucker for food. Did she see you?” Up to about a month ago, our fifteen month old daughter only had eyes for me. Then she discovered snack food. Now, apparently, she had eyes for whoever was holding the bag of goldfish.
“She did.”
When her brow shot marginally higher, I laughed. “Sarah had the golden ticket.”
“Let’s hope she grows out of this phase,” Ibbs muttered as the nurse entered the room and began checking stats.
“Your contractions are three minutes apart and progressing,” she announced. After asking several questions about pain management, she strolled back out of the room.
Ibbs and I looked at each other and she shrugged. At my insistence, we’d gone to those classes that were supposed to teach us about childbirth. Ibbs did it without me the first time. This time I wanted the full experience. In my opinion, they didn’t teach jack shit. I was still sweating bullets. Ibby looked as calm and beautiful as ever. I’d missed so much. I tried not to let the guilt swallow me whole, but times like now…when life was staring me in the face, it tasted like a bitter pill wedged in the center of my throat, and I felt as if I could choke on it. I would never be able to get that time back, but I was here now, and I wasn’t going anywhere ever again. That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared shitless. What if I screwed up? I didn’t know the first thing about newborn babies. What if I held her the wrong way or accidentally dropped her? By the time Ibbs showed up with Millie, she was big enough for me to hold without fear of breaking her. The thought of accidentally hurting our child was seriously fucking with my head. Other than in a fight, blood was not my thing. Hell, just last week Millie had a nose bleed and I almost passed out. I was pretty sure childbirth wasn’t going to sit well with me.
“I want to name him Leo,” Isabella announced. My eyes jerked to hers, and it took me a moment to register what she’d said. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, and,” she rubbed her hands over her belly, “if this is a boy, I want to name him Leo.” I narrowed my eyes at her. Did she know something I didn’t? As if reading my mind, she said, “And no, I didn’t secretly find out the sex of the baby. I just think it’s going to be a boy, that’s all.” When we had the chance to find out the sex of the baby, Ibby wanted to but I didn’t. She hesitantly let me have my way. I hated to admit it, but I liked the name Leo.
“And if it’s a girl?” I challenged.
“If it’s a girl, you pick the name.” She rolled her beautiful eyes at me. “You’ve basically done so anyway,” she laughed. She wasn’t wrong. For weeks I’d been researching names. I’d narrowed it down to two, Allison and Ashlyn. I was leaning toward Ashlyn. Ashlyn Whitaker. Every time I thought about having a son, I clammed up. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because of what happened with my parents. I’d been seeing a therapist for over a year now. I’d accepted that I would forever bear the scars of my parents’ death and was slowly working through my issues, but the mere thought of bringing a son into this world scared the living shit out of me. I could handle another girl, but a boy, I wasn’t so sure about.
“Deal,” I said.
An hour later I found myself in what could only be described as a huddle at the foot of my wife’s hospital bed. Doctor Stimson was the quarterback, and I was the wide receiver. However, with my cape, booties, and gloves on, I looked more like a character from a comic book. I tried not to think about the blood and gore. You’ve seen worse, I kept telling myself. As the baby was pushed from the place I loved almost as much as my wife, I turned my head and took several deep swallows. If I hurled all over the doctor, I would lose my man card in a big way.
“It’s a boy!” the doctor announced. I jerked my head back and stared at…my son. I have a son. Seconds later the purple blob of ick let out a wail of protest. “My, you’re a big fellow,” Dr. Stimson said.
“How big is he?” Isabella called out. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t do anything but stare at our child cradled in the doctor’s hands. I have a son.
“Hang on and we’ll let you know,” Dr. Stimson answered. Within seconds the umbilical cord was snipped, and the baby was in the
nurse’s arms.
“Is he okay?” Ibby asked. I could hear the worry in her voice, and wanted to comfort her, but all I could think was, I have a son.
Like a lost puppy I followed the nurse over to a corner of the room and watched as she cleaned, weighed, and fiddled with our son. How did this happen? I asked myself. I was so sure we were having a girl.
“Ten pounds seven ounces, and twenty four inches long,” the nurse told the doctor. He repeated it to Ibby.
Completely dumbfounded, I stood there staring at our son. I didn’t know how to be a father to a son. The next thing I knew the nurse was standing in front of me.
“Take a deep breath,” she instructed. As I breathed in, she lowered the baby into my arms. “Make sure you watch his head,” she cooed. Once he was settled in the crook of my arm, she took a step back. I shot her a panicked look, and she smiled. “You’ve got this,” she urged. I slowly lowered my eyes to the bundle in my arms. With a head full of dark hair and big blue eyes, he was…perfect. As I stared into the scrunched up, squalling face of my son, I knew that my life would never be the same again.
I have a son.
Chapter Two
Sarah and Cas
‡
Sarah
“Have you spoken with the caterer yet? I gave her your number and she said she would give you a call.” Max’s eyes drifted to his wife. “Right, Ellison? Didn’t she say she would give Sarah a call?” he asked.
“Huh?” Ellie responded. Max’s eyes narrowed as he focused on his absent minded wife, and I tried not to laugh.
Before he could pounce, I jumped in. “The caterer called yesterday, Max.”
“Want me to take her?” Cas quietly asked from beside me. I wasn’t stupid. The man had been chomping at the bit ever since he walked through the hospital doors to get his hands on Dillon and Isabella’s daughter, Millie. I reluctantly handed the sleeping toddler over, and smiled when she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. One thing was for sure, Cas Ashford looked damn good holding a baby. One day this will be us, I thought.
The Last Call (MMG Book 5) Page 1