Emergency Delivery (Love Emergency)

by Samanthe Beck

  Madison hugged Joy to her, as if this was a test, and if she failed, she’d lose her daughter. “You don’t have to. I can call…someone.” Her eyes wandered to the room phone sitting on the bedside table.

  Right. She could call the tooth fairy, or Santa Claus, or worse, the loser who had planted a baby in her belly and then fucked up so badly she’d refrained from uttering his name even once while labor pains tore through her. That motherfucker wasn’t getting back in the picture on his watch. “I insist.”

  “Wonderful.” Alyssa brought her hands together and beamed. “Now, you do have an infant car seat that meets federal and state safety standards in your vehicle, correct?”

  Fuck. He looked at Madison.

  “It’s in my car.”

  “I can go get it.” He held out his hand for her keys. Might as well solve the car question sooner rather than later.

  Madison retrieved her keys from the bedside table and then handed them over. He absently noted her nail beds showed good color, while listening as she rattled off the car’s location—a Dome Drugstore parking lot at the corner of… He held back a wince as she rattled off an intersection in a crappy area of town. What was she doing shopping there?

  “Okay,” he said and got to his feet. “Y’all finish up on the paperwork and whatnot. I’ll be back in”—he mentally judged the distance to her car’s last known location and then tacked on some contingency time if he needed to stop somewhere and buy a car seat—“forty minutes.”

  “Perfect.” Alyssa gave him a thumbs-up, and he hit the road. Surface streets took him to the janky Dome Drugstore, and a cruise through the small parking lot confirmed her car was gone. He pulled out his phone and keyed in the telephone number on the sign warning shoppers of the strictly enforced two-hour parking limit. Hopefully her car had been towed and not stolen, but she’d have to call the tow yard and sort it out, because he didn’t know her license plate number.

  Siri got him to the nearest Target. He grabbed a red cart and headed to the baby section as fast as the wonky wheels would permit. Then he made a left turn into…holy shitsville. Two aisles of car seats confronted him. All he wanted to do was get the damn seat, put it in the cart, and get the hell out. But nooooo, it couldn’t be that easy. He had to narrow it down by size, weight, and whether it should be compatible with X type of carrier, or Y type of stroller, or a fuckton of other accessories. He turned to a woman standing nearby with one kid in the front of the cart, one strapped to her chest, and what appeared to be one on the way, but he knew better than to speculate on that out loud.

  “One-month old. Which do I choose?”

  “What’s the theme?”

  “Huh?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, we’ll take it down a level. Boy or girl?”

  “Girl.”

  “Aw. Congratulations. Well, you’ve come to the right person, because I have some experience”—she patted the kid in the cart, and then the one in the strap-on—“and this is the best, in my opinion.” She tapped an elaborately decorated fingernail to a box displaying a cushiony-looking car seat.

  “Awesome. Thanks so…” He blinked, squeezed his eyes shut, and blinked again as the three hundred and forty-nine dollar price swam in front of his eyes. “…much.”

  “It looks like a lot, but trust me, it’s going to save you chiropractic visits in the long run.”

  He pulled one of the big boxes from the shelf, deposited it in his cart, and then rubbed a spot near his temple, where his own personal version of a labor pain started to throb. “Got it. I appreciate the help.”

  “No worries.” She hefted her distended belly. “What else do you need?”

  He started to say “nothing” but then thought about Madison with nothing to wear except yesterday’s clothes, which had spent time on a dirty drugstore floor.

  “Uh, maybe something comfortable for a new mom to wear?”

  “Follow me.”

  What happened next would remain a blur in his mind if he stayed lucky. Clothes, and stuff, and then more stuff, went into his cart, from sections of Target he’d never dreamed of visiting. He handed over his credit card at checkout without so much as a wince.

  He was numb, and he had to get back.

  His Target tour guide supervised him while he installed the car seat, and then he raced back to the hospital.

  …

  Madison reclined on the bed and closed her eyes while Joy nursed. Anxious as she was to get out of the hospital, she’d been a mom long enough to value a moment of calm when one presented itself. Besides, another couple minutes and Hunter would officially be twenty minutes late, which most likely meant—

  The door to her room burst open so suddenly she nearly bobbled the baby. Hunter stood framed in the opening.

  “Holy crap. You came back.”

  He grabbed onto the doorjamb and steadied himself. In his other hand he held a big Target bag. “You doubted me?”

  She had. She’d seen the ambushed look on his face when Alyssa had suggested he drive her home. A part of her had expected a nurse to stride in with her keys and some excuse like, Hunter’s sorry, but he had to bail. “It crossed my mind you might have other things to do today.”

  “Nope. I’m your taxi.” The door swung closed behind him as he advanced toward the bed, his eyes scanning her face. Then his gaze dropped, and he paused halfway across the room in what struck her as an uncharacteristic display of hesitancy.

  Joy’s suckling noises interrupted the silence, and heat swept into her face as she realized she was sitting there with her dress unbuttoned, her nursing bra unclipped, and her breast hanging out. Not even her breast, no, because her breasts—perky curves she remembered from before she’d gone all pear-shaped—had grown into oversized globes with a job to do. She barely recognized them, and she sure as heck didn’t want him getting an eyeful. If he hadn’t been gay already, the sight of her boobs would definitely turn him.

  Mortified, she scooped up the baby blanket slung over the bed rail and covered herself, before slumping back against the pillows and resettling the baby. “Sorry.”

  “For what? Being a good mom? Want me to come back in ten minutes?”

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. “No. Please take a seat. She’s almost done.”

  “Okay.” His voice came from the bedside now, and she heard him lower himself into a chair. She forced her eyes open and found him staring at her, so close she could see mesmerizing threads of gold around his pupils. Those dark centers expanded a little as she stared, and she saw something else in there. Something that made her wish they’d met under different circumstances. Like maybe he’d come into the coffee shop where she worked, flirted with her while he’d ordered, and instead of being upset when she’d told him they’d sold out of the coffee of the day, he’d told her she could make it up to him by joining him for dinner. Then she’d step out from around the register, her big nursing-mom boobs and post-birth belly preceding her, and…the fantasy dissolved. Now it was her turn to clear her throat. “You’re not gay, are you?”

  The smile returned. She knew because the corners of his eyes crinkled.

  “I never said I was gay. I asked if you’d feel better if I told you I was gay.”

  “You introduced Beau as your partner.”

  “He is my partner. We’ve worked together over five years.”

  “Split the hair however you want, Hunter. We both know you lied.”

  His gaze never wavered, but he had the good grace to twist his lying lips into an apologetic smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable. You had enough to worry about without adding self-consciousness to the mix.”

  Okay, so maybe his motives had been noble, but still. The self-consciousness came back in full force now. Her cheeks flamed again, until a little gurgle erupted from under the blanket.

  “She’s done.” Madison shifted the baby to her shoulder and re-clipped the bra. “Give me a second, and we’ll be good to go.”

  “No w
orries.” He stood and walked to the window while she quickly buttoned her dress and then put Joy over her shoulder and patted her back. Her good little eater rewarded the effort with a quick burp.

  He turned to face her. “I thought maybe you’d like to change before we go.”

  She ran a hand down the skirt of the wrinkled dress the nurse had been kind enough to rinse out in the bathroom sink while helping her shower last night. “I…um…this is all I’ve got.”

  “I had to stop at Target.” He pointed to the bag he’d left on the chair. “A lady at the store suggested you could use a few things. I went with her suggestions.”

  “Oh, that was very sweet of you, but…” She couldn’t afford new clothes. Even so, she peeked inside. A light gray top claimed her attention, and something that looked like coordinated, loose fitting pants. Heaven in a stretchy cotton blend. Then she spied a pale purple sleep bra along with a three-pack of matching undies and felt her face heat. “Thank you.” She’d repay him, somehow. “How much do I owe you?”

  The question provoked a frown. “Nothing. Consider it a baby gift.”

  “Hunter, you already gave me the best baby gift ever, in the form of a safe delivery of my daughter. Besides, these things don’t qualify, since they’re for me.”

  “There’s stuff in there for Joy, too.”

  One-handed, she dug past the layer of post-birth loungewear to a five-pack of pink onesies, a little pink and white sweater, matching leggings, and a hat. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I hope she likes pink,” he joked and gave her a hint more than the default smile. “That seemed to be the prevailing color option.”

  Lord, this poor man was going to see her bawl, again, if she didn’t get herself under control.

  “Will you hold the baby for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  “She should be mellow since I just fed her,” she babbled as she carefully transferred her daughter into his arms. Joy shadowboxed the world for a second and then snuggled in as he drew her to him. His midnight blue long-sleeved T-shirt clung to the kind of wide, solid chest a girl could snuggle into and feel protected—especially a girl too young to recognize not every wide, solid chest offered protection. He repositioned Joy in his arms, and the fluid cotton T-shirt draped over tight, flat abs. He’d haphazardly tucked the front into his jeans. Wear-softened denim rode lean hips, molded hard thighs, and relaxed into all kinds of interesting ridges and creases in between.

  In between? Good lord, Madison, stop staring at his in between. She jerked her gaze back up to his face, relieved to note Joy claimed his undivided attention. “Just, um, holler if she starts to fuss.”

  He sat on the bed and gave the baby his lethally charming grin. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, pretty girl?”

  They would no doubt be fine. She, on the other hand, was turning into a basket case. The sight of this big, powerful man holding her little girl so gently did funny things to her insides. She grabbed the bag and retreated to the bathroom.

  Taking the packaging off the bra and underwear selected for her by the same big, powerful man caused another surge of emotion. Namely, embarrassment. She tried to reach past it and get to gratitude, because what he’d done was both thoughtful and generous, but dear God. What girl wanted a masterpiece of masculinity like Hunter Knox to look at her and think—she stared at the items in her hand—full-coverage nursing bra and granny panties?

  Telling herself to let it go, she pulled on a pair of the briefs. Next came the bra. She tugged it over her head, twisted it into place, and looked down at herself. The underthings were darn comfy, actually, but kind of feminine, too, thanks to the color. Then, for some masochistic reason, she turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the door—a luxury she didn’t have where she was staying. Oh yeah. You sexy.

  The nurses had warned her not to expect her flat, pre-pregnancy stomach back right away, but Jeez, was it normal to look like she still had another baby to birth after this much time? She turned to the side and ran her hand over the soft, poochy area below her navel that had once been taut and flat. Maybe they’d missed one. Was that possible?

  “Doing okay in there?”

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when Hunter’s low voice came through the door. “Fine. Just fine.” Aside from wasting time thinking crazy. She had more important things to worry about than whether she’d ever look normal again. “I’m almost ready.” A quick rummage through the shopping bag produced the top. She pulled the tags off and tugged the soft gray cotton over her head. The crossover neckline managed to flatter her nursing-bra-induced cleavage at the same time it kept the girls handy for feedings. Tiny pleats just beneath went a long way toward disguising Joy’s unborn sibling. “How’re you doing out there?”

  “We’re A-OK. One of us is thinking about taking a nap.”

  The matching bottoms had wide legs and a fold-over waist, like flowy yoga pants. She dragged them on, pushed her hair back from her face, and then opened the door. Since he’d made the effort to be funny, she joked back. “Which one?”

  His eyes slid from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and back up, pausing for an extra moment at her chest. A renegade hormonal butterfly fluttered through her belly, even before he gave her a slow smile.

  “The cute one.”

  New rule. No joking with the pretty man.

  But she couldn’t help smiling as she tossed the bag on the bed and reached for Joy. “Now who’s being cute?”

  He transferred the baby into her arms. “I’d say the honor goes to you.” He must have picked up doubt in her expression, because he tucked a stray hair behind her ear and added, “You look good.”

  Heat snuck into her face. “Yeah, well, I’m sure compared to”—wow, there were so many awesome moments to choose from, between giving birth right in front of him, bawling all over him in the ER, and flashing her burly breast at him when he walked in—“the various states you’ve seen me in, fully covered in clean clothes is a major improvement.”

  Her attempt to deflect the compliment backfired. He didn’t move away; he stepped closer and traced Joy’s tiny fist with his finger.

  “Being on hand to help you welcome this baby girl into the world ranks high on my ‘Best Calls Ever’ list, but to be honest, I paid very little attention to whether your shoes matched your purse. I was too busy assessing details like whether your pupils were equal and reactive to light. Today I can appreciate different details.” His hand settled on the sleeve of her shirt. “Like how this color brings out the gray in your irises, which turns your eyes soft and dreamy. But if it makes you feel better”—he took her chin and tipped her head back an inch—“your pupils are equal and reactive to light.”

  Okay, now she felt like an uptight idiot. “Thank you for noticing. Both things.” Make that an awkward, uptight idiot. “And for the clothes.” She took a step back. “Can you spare a minute for me to change Joy into an outfit before we go? I want to make sure she’s warm.”

  “Take your time.” He slid his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and then thumbed the screen. “I’ll be right back.”

  Probably scrolling through messages from friends he’d had plans with. Messages along the lines of, ‘Where the hell are you?’ because, come on, a guy like Hunter had better things to do with his free time than hang out at the hospital. He went places and did things. And the things he did probably involved at least one female friend, her brain insisted on adding as she worked Joy’s little arms and legs into a onesie.

  The sooner she got out of his hair, the sooner he could get on with his day. She put the jacket on Joy, and the hat, and then picked her up. “Okay, baby girl, let’s get this show on the road.” She snagged her big canvas purse with her free arm and slid her feet into her black flats.

  It took some doing, but she managed to get the Target bag on her arm, too. She reached the door just as Hunter came through, and they nearly collided. His hands landed at her hips to steady h
er, and then he backed her into the room. “Whoa there, turbo. Nobody walks out of a hospital. They’ve got protocols.”

  “We sure do.” Alyssa appeared in the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits.”

  “For heaven’s sake. I can walk.”

  Alyssa shook her head. “Rules are rules. Have a seat, honey. You don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?”

  No, she didn’t. Hunter took Joy and then her diaper bag and the shopping bag. She lowered herself into the wheelchair. Once she’d settled, Hunter handed the baby back to her. She held her hand out for the bags, but he waved her off.

  “Oh, honey, don’t tell me you’re leaving our goodies behind?”

  She craned her head around and looked at Alyssa. “I don’t want to double-dip. I got them the first time around.”

  “Take them. The orderlies will toss whatever you leave behind. There’s even a canvas bag in the third drawer, to carry everything. Hunter, be a doll and—”

  “I’m on it.” He walked across the room to the bassinet. When he bent over to dig the bag out of the lowest drawer, the sight of his jeans riding low and tight over his ridiculously toned ass almost made her lightheaded. Behind her, Alyssa mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Lawd ’a mercy.”

  “Huh?” Hunter shot the nurse a quizzical look but didn’t straighten.

  “Nothing, sugar. Keep doing what you’re doing. Take your time.”

  He rolled his eyes and went back to bagging the diapers, wipes, infant formula, and other freebies furnished by the hospital. She and Alyssa passed the next three minutes in reverent silence as they watched his truly mesmerizing array of muscles bunch and flex under his clothes while he completed the chore.

  “Finished.” He straightened, hefted the bag to his shoulder, and turned to face them.

  “Those drawers are deep. Maybe you ought to check again?” Alyssa suggested. “Just to be sure you got the job done right?”

  Hunter’s slow, cocky grin launched a thousand bad ideas directly into Madison’s no-fly zone. “Ladies, I always get the job done right.”