Not Until You

by Corinne Michaels

  I pull Nicole closer and then dip her back. Her arms wrap around my neck as I cradle her. Then, I lay a deep kiss on her lips. It’s one of those camera moments that I hope someone has the wherewithal to capture.

  Epilogue

  Nicole

  ~Eight Months Later~

  “I hate you! I hate you so much! I hope your balls fall off!” I scream as another contraction hits.

  This fucking kid wouldn’t come out. I know I’m great and all, but she’s two weeks late. Two very long weeks in which I’ve been miserable, perpetually hot, and incapable of being more than five minutes away from the bathroom. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I haven’t seen my crotch in months and now some doctor is elbow deep in there.

  I want to die.

  “You’re doing wonderful,” Callum says as he pushes my sweaty hair off my face.

  “Fuck off.”

  I don’t care if I’m doing wonderful. I had a goddamn plan. I was going to have this baby at forty weeks, push for a few hours, not really breaking a big sweat, and be able to take photos that would be ready for social media right after.

  It’s been sixteen hours of fucking labor, a baby the size of a toddler is trying to come out because she wanted to stay put, and I’m pretty sure I burst a blood vessel in my eye from pushing so hard.

  “Deep breath, Nicole, another contraction is coming,” the doctor warns. I’m so glad he wants me to breathe. Stupid men. All of them.

  I turn to Callum. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I can’t, she can just stay in there.”

  At twenty weeks, we got our ultrasound that said we were having a little girl. I swear, I was online ordering things before we left the parking lot. This is my dream. Her room is absolutely stunning. It is pale pink with gray and gold accents. Callum allowed me to spend whatever I wanted on her room.

  Not that I wasn’t going to anyway, but each time a box came, he smiled, which made me get more boxes because I didn’t want to deprive my husband of his happiness.

  Now, I would do anything to make her stop trying to kill me.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think she wants to.”

  “Because you made her angry!” They did this. They induced my labor. “The kid wants to stay in, why are we forcing her to vacate the premises?”

  “You wanted her out,” he reminds me.

  I really wish that looks could at least turn people to stone. Statues can’t talk. “That was before I knew this was what I was asking for!”

  “How much longer does she have?” he asks the doctor.

  “If you can push really hard on this one, we’ll have the baby’s head out.”

  “Oh, so gross!” I complain.

  “Do you want to see?” he asks Callum.

  “No, he doesn’t want to see!” I grip my husband’s arm to stop him from heading down there.

  There are no mirrors or recording devices. My vagina is a mess, and there will be no seeing it in this state.

  No fucking way.

  None.

  He is to firmly stay out of my lower region.

  I’d like him to only be there for pleasure, not when this big-ass thing is pushing its way out.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I told you why!”

  He sighs. “Nicole, I already told you that I don’t care, and I promise to still love you no matter what I see.”

  Yeah, he says that now, but what happens if I shit myself because, apparently, that’s a thing while you’re in labor. No guy can just forget that. I would much rather be safe than sorry, and I would think he would know better than to push me on this. He had to fight me to even be in the delivery room. I voted for Kristin or Danielle.

  Of course, Danielle is working at Dovetail, and she said she would rather not piss Callum off by taking his spot in here and lose her job. As if he would ever fire her. She’s a giant chicken shit.

  Kristin tried telling me I would regret it before she admitted that she’d rather not be the target of my anger spurts.

  Another giant chicken shit.

  Heather wasn’t an option. I love her, but she’s all tough love, and I don’t need that. I want nurturing and understanding while I’m in hell.

  So, I’m stuck with my husband.

  “If you go down there, you’ll live to regret it. Try me, Callum Huxley.”

  He rolls his eyes and heads back up to the safe zone.

  “Oh! Fuck!” I scream as the next contraction hits. “Thanks for the warning, Doc!” I give him the look I just gave Callum not too long ago.

  “Just a few more pushes, Nicole.”

  Yeah, and then I’m going to find an ice bath because I swear my vag is on fire.

  “Get it out!” I demand. I’m over this. All of it—the pregnancy, the hormones, the bloating, and the pain. I quit.

  I’m the asshole who made a bet that I could do this without drugs. Again, my stupid stubborn side bit me in the ass. Guess who made that bet? Heather—now known as The Bitch.

  She tried to say that there was no way that my “prissy” ass could handle labor without painkillers. Not like she’s had a baby, but whatever, I still made the damn bet.

  By hour ten, I was begging for the damn epidural, but I was already too far dilated. They thought it would stymie the progression. Little did they know that it was going to happen anyway just because God has a sense of humor.

  “Here comes another one,” Dr. I-Have-No-Heart says. “The head is out, now I want you to really push this time.”

  I glare at him. “I’ve been doing that.”

  Callum pushes my hair back. “You have, love. You just need to do it again, okay?”

  I want to tell him no, but I know he’ll find some stupid thing to say, and I don’t really get a choice. I’ve never heard of a woman being able to actually quit childbirth. Although, if anyone could, it would be me.

  “I’m so tired,” I say while panting.

  “I know, but she’s almost here. Our little girl is coming.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. I’m right here.”

  I take the strength that he offers because I have none left. I’m completely spent.

  “Push, Nicole.”

  I don’t know where the might comes from when you have none, but it comes from somewhere. As exhausted, beaten down, sore, and even a little shattered as I am, I know my daughter needs me. I have to find whatever I have left so I can give her what she needs.

  So, I grip Callum’s hand and push as hard as I can. I vaguely register people counting, but I don’t focus on it. I just think of the baby. I think of Callum and how happy he’s been. I think about our friends and family in the waiting room. I think of the love that Callum and I share, and that gives me the fuel to push.

  “The baby is out!” I hear a nurse yell.

  I drop my head back to the pillow and Callum kisses my forehead. “You did it, love. You did it.”

  “Where is she?” I ask, with literally zero energy left.

  The nurse brings her over, placing her on my chest. “Here’s your son.”

  That wakes me up. “What?”

  “It’s a boy.”

  I shake my head in denial. “No. No, I don’t. I’m having a girl. Where’s the girl?”

  Callum’s face is beaming with pride. “A boy?”

  “No, I was cooking a little girl who was going to love pink. I . . .”

  The nurse lifts the leg and, sure enough, there’s a fucking penis.

  Callum’s big hand cups the back of the baby’s head. “Hello, son.”

  I look over, still waiting for the girl because . . . that was what they told me. I was having a girl, damn it.

  “We have a boy?” I ask again.

  “We have a son.”

  “Shit. I guess naming him Olivia isn’t going to work.” I look down at my chest, touching his face.

  He’s perfect. He has the cutest button nose and his head is round, not like some of my friend’s kids who came out looking l
ike a cone. His eyes open slightly but close right away.

  “No, I would think not,” Callum agrees.

  “Hi, baby,” I say to our son. “I’m your mom, you know, the one who has called you Livvy for the last few months, sorry about that.”

  Callum chuckles. “We didn’t pick a boy name.”

  No, because we thought there was a body part missing. I look down at him again, and then I smile. “What about Colin?”

  “Colin?”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s close to your name and English.”

  He seems to think it over, and I clear my throat.

  “Sixteen hours of labor, Callum. Sixteen.”

  He laughs and then kisses my lips before kissing the baby’s head again. “Colin Huxley. Welcome to the world.”

  * * *

  Thank you for reading Nicole & Callum’s story. If you enjoyed this, be sure to read Heather’s book, We Own Tonight and Kristin’s One Last Time! Danielle & Milo’s book - If I Only Knew - is coming soon!

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  For access to an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Epilogue swipe to the next page!

  Bonus Scene

  Dear Reader,

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  Books by Corinne Michaels

  The Salvation Series

  Beloved

  Beholden

  Consolation

  Conviction

  Defenseless

  Evermore: A Salvation Series Novella (Coming 2019)

  Indefinite (Coming 2019)

  * * *

  Return to Me Series

  Say You’ll Stay

  Say You Want Me

  Say I’m Yours

  Say You Won’t Let Go: A Return to Me/Masters and Mercenaries Novella

  * * *

  Standalone Novels

  We Own Tonight

  One Last Time

  Not Until You

  If I Only Knew (Coming 2019)

  * * *

  Co-Written Novel with Melanie Harlow

  Hold You Close

  Acknowledgments

  If you deal with me during this process, you deserve so much more than a thank you that’s back here. For real, I’m a little crazy and you know this, but . . . here it is.

  To my husband and children. I don’t know how you deal with me, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you. I love you all with my whole heart.

  My beta readers, Katie, Melissa, Jo : Thank you so much for your support and love during this book. I love you guys and couldn’t imagine not having you. I hope I did the British parts proud.

  My assistant, Christy Peckham: When I say I hate you, I’m totally lying. I love you so much. I’ll totally deny this.

  My readers. There’s no way I can thank you enough. It still blows me away that you read my words. You guys are everything to me. Everything.

  Bloggers: You’re the heart and soul of this industry. Thank you for choosing to read my books and fit me into your insane schedules. I appreciate it more than you know.

  Ashley, my editor, for always pushing me to write outside of my comfort zone. It’s truly a blessing to work with you and I love our crazy process. Sommer Stein, from Perfect Pear Creative, for being my friend and creating the most amazing covers ever. Janice and Michele for proofreading and making sure each detail is perfect! Christine, from Type A Formatting, your support is invaluable. I truly love your beautiful hearts.

  Melanie Harlow, thank you for being the good witch in our duo or Ethel to my Lucy. Your friendship means the world to me and I love writing with you (especially when you let me kill characters.)

  Bait, Stabby, and Corinne Michaels Books – I love you more than you’ll ever know.

  My agent, Kimberly Brower, I am so happy to have you on my team. Thank you for your guidance and support.

  Melissa Erickson, you’re amazing. I love your face.

  Vi, Claire, Mandi, Amy, Kristy, Penelope, Kyla, Rachel, Tijan, Alessandra, Syreeta, Meghan, Laurelin, Kristen, Kendall, Kennedy, Ava, and Natasha—Thank you for keeping me striving to be better and loving me unconditionally.

  About the Author

  New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Corinne Michaels is the author of multiple romance novels. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.

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  After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.