Page 52 of Her Shifter Babe

The police were called, and Jamie was dragged away for surgery to try and fix the damage I’d done.

I hope I fucked his face for life. Asshole, pretty boy.

I carried my pregnant mate back to her bed to be checked over by the staff and I refused to leave her side, even when Tommy asked me to. “No.” I snapped at him. “I’ve been keeping my distance and look what happened! No, means no, brother. I’m not leaving her. Never again.”

Stacey smiled at me with tears in her eyes, clearly overwhelmed but grateful for my protective and possessive brand of support during this frightening and trying time for her.

I held her hand as they poked and prodded at her and declared she still very much needed to remain on bed rest. When everyone left, including Tommy, I finally melted onto the bed with her, dropping my head and pressing a kiss to her swollen belly. “Please forgive me, Stacey.”

She stroked my head and ran her fingers through my hair, seemingly willing me to feel comforted, when it was her who needed it most.

“I should have always trusted you,” I lamented. “And I’m so sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want you or the baby. I was acting like a jealous ass. I’m better than that, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” she finally said after a time. “I understand why you felt the way you did, and it’s okay that you were worried. It’s a very human thing to feel. And I’m happy to do a paternity test to prove to you she’s Tommy’s. I’ve already asked the nurse and she said we can do that as soon as she’s born.”

I kissed her belly again and shook my head. “No, that’s not necessary. She’s ours and I love her already.” Flooded with emotions I’d never felt before, I lifted my head and stared at my mate. “And I love you, Stacey, so much. I thought I was going to die when I saw him with you, trying to take you away. It was like having my heart torn out of my chest.”

She huffed out a laugh. “I almost died on the spot when he walked back into my life, at your house, and here, again. But I’m okay. I promise. I’ve learned that I’m a little tougher than I ever thought I was.” And she looked it, in fact, she had more color in her cheeks than she’d had all week. The rosiness suited her.

I tilted my head at her, a silly wolfy mannerism, and assessed the feelings emanating from her. “If you don’t mind my saying, you seem... content in a strange way.”

Stacey actually smiled at me this time. “Is it terrible that I feel, relieved?” she asked.

“Not at all. Jamie won’t be bothering you again, I promise.”

She squeezed my hand and settled into the bed. “I know and it’s all thanks to you.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I might need to rest for a while, I’m exhausted, but can you stay, please?”

I kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

And I wasn’t. I’d hired a new chef during the week—an old friend from culinary school. Before Stacey I’d never imagined I could let someone else run my restaurant, my kitchen, or my business. But she’d very quickly shown me what my true priorities were. Nothing mattered in life if I didn’t have my mate or my child. Their well-being and happiness was everything to me. And no amount of money or success, or control over my work life, was ever going to make me as truly happy as this spectacular woman.

She murmured something that I didn’t quite catch as she drifted off to sleep, interrupting my train of thought.

I leaned forward. “Sorry, what was that, beautiful?” I whispered.

“I love you too, David,” she whispered back.

My heart broke and was remade in that moment and I knew my life—our life—was never going to be the same again.

***

THE NEXT SIX WEEKS were insanely busy. Stacey, of course, stayed in the hospital and we got an extra bed added to the room so that Tommy and I could stay with her as frequently as possible.

At thirty-seven weeks pregnant, Dr. Morton told us the baby and Stacey had waited long enough given the touch and go nature of their situation, and it was time for a C-section. There were tears of fear from Stacey—it certainly wasn’t the dream birth she’d hoped for—but in the end, everything went well, and our beautiful daughter was born.

Margaret Rose Bailey. 6 lbs. 6 oz. and absolutely perfect.

Stacey and the baby stayed in the hospital for a few more days. Observation was required for the baby and Stacey needed medication after her surgery, then it was time to take her home.

Home.

I don’t think I’d ever appreciated the word as much as I did, now. “Are you ready to go?” I asked.

Stacey was busy looking through the cupboard and the drawers for the sixth time to make sure she had everything.

Our sweet little Maggie was fast asleep in my arms and my heart beat with a steady, happy rhythm in my chest. I’d never known love like this before setting my eyes on my daughter. She was a perfect, mini replication of her mother, with her perfect Cupid’s Bow lips and a cute tuft of downy blonde hair.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, grabbing the baby bag.

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