Page 94 of The Bartender's Baby

“There’s my family,” he said, voice gravelly but wonderfully familiar.

I set the car seat on the floor and rushed to his side, tears spilling over once more. This time, they were tears of joy. He smoothed his hand over my head and hair, shushing me, kissing me, murmuring, “Don’t cry, princess.”

It took a minute until I could pull myself together and lift my head, finding Nate’s eyes red and glassy. His hair was complete chaos, his body covered in a hospital gown, with wires hooked up to him and a few machines, one of them a heart monitor, displaying the beautiful and perfect rhythm.

“How are you?” I asked, and he shrugged, vaguely motioning to his left leg.

“They got me on some pain meds. I got a pretty good gash and burn on my calf that they fixed up, and besides some smoke in my lungs that feels like I swallowed a cheese grater, I’m fine.”

His voice did sound like it had been dragged over broken glass and then put in a blender. “How’s Frog?”

I leaned over to tug the car seat closer, our son blissfully asleep and unaware. “He’s okay. I fed him while we were in the waiting room.”

I couldn’t help the way my voice broke on the last syllable, but I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. Perched on the edge of his bed, I laced my fingers through his, unwilling to let him go. “What happened?”

He dropped his head back to the pillow, his eyes half lidded. “Remember how I said the HVAC system was fucked?” When I widened my eyes in horror, he released a long, painful sigh. “I was by myself in the office when I heard some sounds. By the time I got out to the floor, the ceiling was already on fire.”

“Oh god,” I whispered, scooting as close to him as possible, reaching out my free hand to curl around his bearded jaw.

“It spread quick,” he went on, though I didn’t need much more of an explanation. “It’s bad, the damage. I’m not sure…”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.” I cupped his face with both of my hands, catching the vague scent of smoke off his skin. I assumed his clothes were trashed. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about. You’re here with me and George. That’s all. That’s everything.”

Tears fell from my cheeks and onto Nate’s face. He didn’t wipe them away, merely bent forward to kiss my wet skin. “I was so scared,” he said, and I could hear his own tears in his voice. “All I thought about was you and George. You two were the last thing I saw.”

I dropped my head, crying and kissing him, barely breathing as I tried to get it all out. “I love you. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry about what I said to you. You’re not needy. You’re perfect. I love you, and I won’t hold back. I—” My breath hiccuped. “I promise, no more holding back, because I love you.”

He wiped his palms across my eyes and face. “I’m sorry too. You’re not frigid. You’re the very opposite. You’re full of emotion. You just needed a fire to let it out.”

I thumped his chest, snorting a laugh that caught in my throat, causing me to cry more. “I fucking hate you so much. Never do that to me again.”

He pulled me toward him for a kiss on the lips that tasted salty and full of promises. “I love you,” I said against his mouth. “I love you. I love you.”

He smiled. “I think I like that even more than you begging.”

I pushed away from him to roll my eyes. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

“Yeah.” He covered my hand with his. “Taking care of you and our baby.”

I couldn’t deny that.

“But until I know more about the damage to Walt’s, I’m not sure about our financial situation,” he said soberly until his blue-gray eyes lit with levity, his mouth curving into a teasing smile. “You might have to support us, and I’ll have to be a house husband for real.”

“That’s okay,” I agreed easily. “I kinda like the sound of that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?”

“You’d look damn sexy vacuuming in an apron.”

His laugh melded into a cough that had me reaching for the cup of water on his side table, holding it out for him to sip from. When he finished, he smiled at me. “Anything for you, princess.” Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said and reached down for George when he whined. I handed him over to Nate then snuggled into his side.

Even waiting in this emergency room with the love of my life hooked up to beeping machines, I felt content.

Nate was going to be fine.

Our family was whole and happy.

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