Worst Valentine's Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology

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Worst Valentine's Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology Page 9

by Kilby Blades


  “Wait, Marley. I’ll help,” Chad said. He offered his hand.

  “Who’s hurting her?”

  “Your kid. She’s in labor. They took her down to the spa.”

  “She’s that loud?”

  “They thought she’d be more comfortable on one of those spa couches. Plus, there’s lots of towels and water and shit.”

  The elevator doors opened at the spa entrance.

  “Doooon’t touuuuch meeeee theeeeere you pervert!”

  “I need to examine you,” came a stranger’s voice.

  “You are not going anywhere near my lady parts. Who the hell are you anyway? Where’s my doctor?”

  “Carlo’s an EMT. The storm...”

  “Fuck the storm.” She panted. “He has a mobster name. No mobster is…” Oh god. Ow, ow, ow, oooooow.”

  “Breathe, Rach.”

  “Shut up, Victor!” She’d actually growled that time.

  “Rachel?”

  “Maaarleeey! You did this to meee.”

  I stumbled closer. Chad got me a stool. I sat and took her hand in mine. “Sweetheart. When? How?”

  Damien laughed. “I think we know how.”

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me!” She tugged on my hand and I leaned closer. “They won’t give me drugs. Or booooze,” she wailed. “I quit!”

  Carlo shook his head. “We don’t have the approved drugs at hand and I suspect you’re too far along. When did the contractions start?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Lots of women have babies without drugs,” Victor chimed in.

  “You’re strong,” Damien added.

  Rachel was pale, her hair drenched in sweat and stuck to her face, but her expression would have made a Viking shield maiden hesitate. “Walk away now or I’ll use your balls to demonstrate the importance of pain killers.”

  Victor and Damien stepped back, a little lost. None of us knew how to help. “Rach… I…” My voice shook. She had to be okay.

  Another contraction hit her hard. The men in the room held their breath, and if they were anything like me, thanked the gods they weren’t female.

  “I’m having my baby surrounded by men who don’t have a fucking clue!” She sobbed. “I want my mom!”

  “You do?” She and her mom didn’t have the best relationship.

  “Ditch that comment. I want druuugs!”

  “Think about the beautiful baby who can’t wait to meet you.” I washed her brow with cool water, kissed her cheek, her palm. She seemed to calm.

  Another security guard ran in. “I smashed some ice. Saw it on TV. Chips are good for her to suck on.”

  “Thank you.” Carlo pressed on Rach’s belly while I fed her ice. “Baby’s in the right position. Everything seems good,” Carlo said.

  “Is your head okay?” Rachel reached toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I’m fine.” My pain was nothing compared to what she was going through. I looked to Carlo. “What can we do?”

  “Sit behind her and support her back, hold her hand, rub her belly. Your job is the most important. I need to check…” He gestured toward the obvious place.

  “Rachel.” I crawled behind her, drawing her back between my legs.

  “Don’t even. Oh!”

  “Breathe baby. Deep breaths in. Blow out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”

  She followed my lead until the contraction calmed. “I hate you.” Her voice was too weak.

  “I hate me too. Lean into me. I’m here. I’ll never leave again. I love you.”

  “It’s coming so fast now.”

  Carlo turned to our group. “Does she like music?”

  “Yeah. She does. I’ll grab my guitar.” Victor raced toward the stairs.

  I handed Chad the cool cloth. “You can help too. Keep her cool and comfortable.”

  “Sure. This shit is crazy.”

  “No fucking cursing…around Junior!” Rachel croaked out.

  “Oh, okay.” He slumped, whispering, “I’m never having kids.”

  Two security guards entered. “All is secure Mr. Granger.” They whispered. “Can we ask her a question?”

  “What?”

  “We have a pool going. What do you think? Can you tell? It’s a boy, right?”

  “Take them out.” Carlo said.

  Damien ushered them through the door. “She’s in a delicate state.” Damien leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Cassie’s sure it’s a boy.”

  “You are so…so dead to me, boss,” Rachel grumbled, panting again.

  “Let me check you,” Carlo pleaded.

  “He’s an EMT. He’s delivered dozens of healthy babies, Right?” I looked to him for support.

  “Um…”

  “UM?” Rachel dug her nails into my thighs and rose up as much as she could. I’d probably have scars.

  “To be honest, I just started last week.”

  “What exactly have you done?”

  “Resuscitated a couple of elderly people. Splinted a few broken bones. Treated a burn.”

  “No babies,” I said, resigned.

  “Not yet, but I’ve taken the training.”

  Victor laughed. “I could write a song about this.”

  Rachel twisted her head in Victor’s direction. “Start strumming, Music Man!”

  “Okay, okay. What tune do you want?”

  “My favorite. Play my favorite or I’ll shove your picks where the sun don’t shine.”

  Victor played one of his biggest hits, a mellow song about love and loss and forgiveness.

  “What is that crap?”

  “Your favorite.”

  “Not anymore. It’s not helping. Play a different favorite.”

  He played a few chords. “Not that stupid one.”

  Carlo scooted closer, but Rach started to sob. “He’s not my doctor. My doctor is a forty eight year old woman with three kids of her own. She knows what’s happening to me. Tell me the fuck what’s happening to me!”

  “Your cervix is opening so the baby can fit through. The child is in the perfect position. You’re doing great.”

  “I know that shit. Oh god, Marley!” The pain seemed worse this time. “I want to push. I have to…”

  “No pushing unless you let me examine you.”

  “Will you geld Marley when my baby is born?”

  Damien and Victor laughed.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Them too.”

  “Sure. Marley, hold her steady. Damien, Victor, keep her legs open wide. I’m going in.”

  Victor slid off the guitar strap. “First baby born at the club. We’re making history!” He pumped a fist in the air, before taking his assigned position.

  “Can you…just stab him with that…that pair of scissors?”

  “You’re fully dilated. Great job. Go ahead and push at the next contraction.”

  “Like I have a choice.”

  Rachel screamed and grunted and groaned. I had to keep from crying out myself, she was holding my hand so tightly. “The baby’s coming, honey. Just a few more minutes.”

  “Why isn’t it out?”

  “Doesn’t usually happen in one push,” Carlo said, busy doing whatever he was doing down there.

  “Two pushes or I’m quitting.”

  He smiled. “You can’t stop the process.”

  “I was supposed to have another few weeks. Oh noooo.”

  “Push now.”

  She screamed. Victor screamed. Damien looked horrified. Steven grinned. Chad covered his ears. But a moment later, Carlo was holding a gooey, red skinned, squirming baby. He used banana clamps on the cord, rubbed its tiny back until it choked out a cry, dried it thoroughly, then wrapped it in a fresh towel and placed it on Rachel’s belly.

  “Meet your son.”

  “My son?” Rachel whispered, still breathing hard.

  “Our son.” I kissed Rachel’s cheek, then the forehead of our tiny miracle. “He’s beautiful.”

  Rachel twisted her m
outh into a scowl. “He looks like an old version of you. Puppy dog eyes and all.”

  Victor had edged closer. “Are you sure it’s a boy, because Sloane was positive it was a girl.”

  Rachel lifted the towel, her eyebrows rising. “Definitely a boy.”

  “Cassie was right.” Damien smirked.

  “Lucky guess.” Victor grunted.

  She frowned. “Uh… Doc… Something’s wrong.” Rachel howled and Carlo gestured to Steven.

  “Take the baby, please, Steven. You’re not finished, Ms. Abercrombie. There’s another one on the way. Everyone back in position.”

  Victor and Damien were stunned into silence. A rare occurrence, at least for Victor.

  “Now!” Carlo’s tone was not to be denied. Everyone shuffled back.

  When my latest contraction calmed, I glanced around. Steven had placed our son in a bin lined with cozy spa towels. At least Succubus One and Two and I had made it to the club. I might have been giving birth in Samson’s Lyft stuck somewhere in the middle of the storm. Or worse yet, in the apartment with only Marley to help.

  I banged my fists on Marley’s muscular thighs. He probably didn’t even feel it. “How could my nice doctor not know there was another succubus?”

  “It happens.” The EMT shrugged.

  Stupid answer. “It doesn’t just happen, Santino.”

  “I have twins in my family,” Marley added. I twisted my head to look at him. He lost the grin fast.

  “You’re just telling me this?”

  “We hadn’t spoken about children.”

  “All this time I thought I was super fat. My mom…”

  “Don’t listen to her. Ow.”

  I was crushing his hand. Tough shit. “I have to push, I have to push. I have to puuuuush!”

  “Do it!” Carlo had an intensity to his gaze I hadn’t noticed before.

  Damien and Victor joined in. “Push, push, push, push.”

  “Bikini wax appointments!”

  They shut up.

  With a final bust of energy, I pushed baby two into Carlo’s waiting arms. The tiny thing cried right away. “A girl.”

  “I knew it!” Victor punched Damien in the shoulder.

  “The boy was first.” Damien said.

  “So what?”

  “Marley, your first… job as a father is to …to kill my bosses. Doc, If there’s another baby, send it back. I’m done.”

  “Just the second placenta.” Which looked like nothing I wanted in my body ever again. Uch.

  Carlo had rested our tiny daughter on my chest. I could tell right off, she’d look a lot like me when she grew up. Plus, she was much noisier than the boy, already giving me attitude.

  I passed her to Marley. “Here ya go, Daddy. Might as well get used to holding them.”

  Damien and Victor rolled over a couple of stools. “Twins are a lot to take care of.” They sat. “I suppose you’ll be out for a long time.”

  “Maybe years.” Victor’s words caught in his throat.

  They’d pulled out their pleading faces. Victor was better at it than Damien. Damien’s still looked like a snooty rich guy.

  My slow smile had them leaning away. Who’s got the power now, bitches? I motioned to Marley to wipe the sweat off my face. “I’ll take two months.”

  Victor smiled. “We can manage two months.”

  “That’s not long enough!” Marley complained, sliding out from behind me and adjusting the spa chair so it supported my back.

  “It’s gonna be fine, honey, because when I come back, there’s going to be a door cut into the wall leading from my office to the empty office next door. Inside will be the best nursery ever built just for our babies and an amazing nanny will be there to help out. I will have free child care for as long as I work here. Correct, gentlemen?”

  “That used to be my office,” Damien said.

  “Do you use it? Ever?” Victor asked. “We’ve been using our Dads’ old offices.”

  Damien sighed. “I agree.”

  “Yes, from me! What a relief.”

  “Oh, you think I’m done?”

  They shook their heads in unison, resigned.

  “A limo will pick us up and drive us home. Offer the job to Samson first.” I didn’t want him to lose out on his regular client. He had a large family.

  “Yes, to all your demands.” Damien said.

  “Good. Now come here so you can meet our babies.”

  “Exceptionally cute.”

  “Yeah, adorable.”

  Wrinkled newborns weren’t really their thing, “Thank you both. I can’t ever…”

  “Shush. You’re family.”

  Victor slapped Marley on the back. “Damien and I have a proposition. We’re starting a charity foundation in Damien’s Dad’s name and we need someone to run it. The Mission Restoration Project will be just one of the organizations we’ll be sponsoring. I don’t suppose you’d like to submit your resume?”

  My sweetie looked gob smacked. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

  “You can have Victor’s old office.” Damien said.

  “What? Wait a minute.”

  “Fair is fair.” I said, laughing at Victor’s expression. “I suggest we meet at a later date to discuss my raise, Marley’s salary, and the hiring of my assistant.”

  “Your assistant?” Damien repeated.

  “I’m going to have to nurse my babies once in a while.” I glanced down. “In fact, I should probably…”

  “Everyone out!” Damien shuffled Victor, Chad and Steven out the door, then picked up his handset. “Attention. This is Damien Granger. We are pleased to announce the birth of Succubus One and Two. A healthy boy and a healthy girl. The boy was born first.”

  Cheering sounded in the hall outside our door. Had everyone been lurking there, worried about me? Tears filled my eyes as Carlo handed me my hungry son. “Maybe I’ll name him Carlo.”

  “Don’t. I had to live with people making me an offer I couldn’t refuse my whole life.”

  “I’m sorry about…”

  “You did great. I still want you in the hospital as soon as possible so they can examine you and the kids.”

  “Okay, Doc. You did great too.”

  “I’m going to clean up, but I’ll stick around until an ambulance can get here.”

  “Thanks.”

  The little guy latched on without a hitch, and before long all kinds of peaceful hormones were flowing through my body. Marley picked up our daughter, humming a sweet song to calm her as I watched my little man suckle. I felt like the luckiest person on the planet. Yeah, walking didn’t exactly sound like something I’d want to do right away, and I think I could sleep for a month straight, but shit, I’d popped out twins, then negotiated the best deal any secretary could ask for with two powerful, wealthy business owners.

  Mom can talk about my birth all she wants. I win hands down.

  Marley kissed me, sweet and delicious. “Love ya, baby. You did good.”

  “You too, Daddy.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Love it or Leave It” by Eva Moore

  Lauren Sykes grinned as she reposted another viral Valentine’s Day video. The latest popular challenge revolved around stunt proposals, and her feed was blowing up. Her hashtag #LoveItOrLeaveIt had an avid following. She loved her job.

  Well, she’d much rather be creating the content for The Windy Wendy, the online lifestyle magazine she worked for, but she’d settle for collating it and spreading the joy for now. That’s how she’d grown their social media following into the six figures over the last year. Her hard work was about to be rewarded with her first feature. This was her big break and would open the door to more writing opportunities. She was on her way. Look out, world! Here I come.

  Her phone chimed with the special tone for her boss, and she picked it up immediately.

  Wendy: Come see me. Now.

  Oh shit. What now? When the editor-in-chief, Wendy Nichols, wanted to see you inst
ead of just texting, something big was up. Since it was nearly five on a Tuesday, she packed up her laptop and grabbed her coat, before hustling to find Wendy. Two days a week the small staff all met up at the free range office for meetings and collaboration. The rest of the time they worked wherever they could get WiFi. The day pass was cheaper than renting permanent offices and kept the group flexible, but it was limited to eight hours and hers were almost up. It also meant that she had to wander a bit to find where her boss was set up for the day. She found Wendy making tea in the gourmet communal kitchen.

  “Hi, Wendy. What’s up?”

  “How’s everything going for the Valentine’s Day story?”

  When her boyfriend, Devin Ballaster, scion of the Cogman-Ballaster pharmaceuticals empire, had invited her to a charity ball to fight heart disease, she’d seen her chance. She’d pitched the inside story to her editor as her first chance to write a featured story for the magazine. Her plan was to Instagram story her entire night and then do a full feature write up for the next morning’s upload.

  “It’s going great. I’ve got a more detailed outline of the evening if you want to see it.”

  “No. But I think I have something that you should see.”

  That didn’t sound good. Lauren looked at the phone Wendy turned toward her and saw her boyfriend Devin with his arm around Monica Delancey, the lithe blonde actress that she recognized from the latest Marvel movie. “Real Life Avenger Fights Heart Disease,” read the headline. God damn it.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “No. I didn’t know.” That bastard. Her mind was reeling, but she clamped down on her urge to curse in a bid for professionalism. “But don’t worry. I’ll still get you your article.”

  Somehow. How the hell was she going to pull this off? She’d figure it out.

  “Lauren, if you can’t…”

  “I can make this work. Trust me.”

  Before her boss could take away her shot, Lauren turned and hustled out the door. Before it closed, she had her phone tucked against her ear as she juggled bags.

  “What the fuck, Devin?”

  “Hey, you saw the picture. I was gonna call you.”

  “Actually my boss saw the picture and wanted to know why the guy I thought was my boyfriend is taking someone else to the Valentine’s Day ball.”

 

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