Page 52 of Tempting

I pop my eyes open and realize Nixon’s weight feels so real because it is very real and very much wrapped around me. “That wasn’t a dream?” I ask hoarsely and lick my dry lips.

“Shit. That wasn’t a dream.” I fly out of bed, looking for my pager. “Where’s my?—”

Nixon sits up, shirtless, and grabs something from my nightstand.

I do not need to be noticing the way his muscles flex in the early morning light.

I swallow down that thought as he hands me my pager and phone. “Thanks,” I murmur. “Shit.” I hit speed dial and lock my eyes with Nix. “Brynnie thinks she’s in labor.”

Deacon picks up on the first ring. “Kenzie... Brynn’s water just broke. I’m putting the phone on speaker. She’s getting dressed.”

Shit. She’s nearly three weeks early. “Sounds like we’re having a baby today. Is she contracting?”

“She can hear you,” Brynn snaps from what sounds like across the room. “And I thought they were Braxton Hicks.”

I realize I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom, completely naked, and Nixon is just sitting there staring at me with hungry eyes, and my stomach flips.

Damn. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask, knowing her answer will determine whether I get to shower or not.

“Umm...” Brynn waffles, and I hear Deacon whispering sweet words to her.

“They’ve been about eight minutes apart,” he tells me, and Brynn clears her throat and groans.

Yeah. That’s definitely another one.

Once she can speak again, she moans. “More like six minutes, Kenz.”

“Six minutes,” Deacon blurts out, and she shushes him.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I thought we had at least three more weeks.”

“Red.” His voice is soft and placating. “You’re bag’s packed. Let’s go. Anything you don’t have, someone can grab.”

I look at the clock. “Nope. No more packing. I want you to grab what you have and head to Kroydon Hills Hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

Looks like no shower for me.

“Shit,” Deacon chokes.

“What’s wrong?” My radar goes on high alert. This is the first time I’m delivering a loved one’s baby, and I’m going to make sure everything goes right for her. It has to.

“I’ve got to wake Kennedy up. Jace and India aren’t home,” he groans.

Deacon’s assistant coach is Brynnie’s and my Uncle Jace, and he happens to live next door to them. But he and his wife left this morning for her brother’s wedding.

See . . . ? Six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

“I can take her,” Nixon offers, and all the color drains from my face as the other end of the line goes silent... Until it isn’t.

Damn it.

“Kenzie...” Brynnie says calmly. Too calmly. “Why do I hear Nixon’s voice in your condo at four-thirty in the morning?”

“That’s not Nix,” Deacon tries to tell her, but he’s full of shit. Not only has he coached Nixon for a handful of years with the Revolution, he also coached Nixon at Boston University before that. That man knows the voice of the man I slowly turned to glare at.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, dear. Oh, fuck this.” She must take the phone from Deacon because her voice gets much closer and clearer through the call. “Nixon Joseph Sinclair. What are you doing with her at four a.m.?”

---