Page 90 of Boss Daddy

James had already been a rock during this pregnancy, but ever since learning we wanted him to be the twins’ godfather, he’s gone into overdrive.

He goes on. “Besides, the security staff can survive without me breathing down their necks for one night.”

Samuel chuckles and claps him on the shoulder. “Fair enough.”

A flurry of motion near the door catches my attention, and Dr. Mayer finally steps in, her smile reassuring as always.

James, seeing that things are about to get real, slips out with a wave.“I’ll be back in once they’re here.”

“How are we doing, Erin?” she asks, setting her bag down and slipping on a pair of gloves.

“Ready to get these babies out.”

She laughs softly. “Good, because you’re fully dilated and ready to push.”

Holy shit. It’s happening.

My heart skips a beat. Fear and excitement flood through me in equal measure.

I grip Samuel’s hand tighter and look up at him. “Here goes nothing.”

“You’ve got this,” he says, his voice steady and sure.

The room buzzes around me, voices blending into a hazy backdrop of urgency and professionalism. But my focus narrows to one thing: bringing my children safely into the world. I clench my teeth, gripping Samuel’s hand like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality, and bear down with everything I’ve got.

“Good, Erin!” Dr. Mayer’s voice cuts through the pain. “You’re doing great. Keep pushing!”

I grunt, the pain white-hot and consuming, but I push again, harder this time. A rush of relief floods through me as I feel the shift, and then I hear it, the tiny, piercing cry of my firstborn son.

“He’s here,” Samuel says. He cranes his neck to see. “Erin, he’s perfect.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I can’t stop yet. My body reminds me quickly that I’m not done. Another wave hits, and I brace myself, already exhausted.

“There’s another one waiting for his turn,” I say. I’m rallying, still in total disbelief that I’m about to push a second kid out of my body.

Samuel turns to me. “You can do this.” His eyes are locked on mine.

“Baby, I love that you’ve got my hand, but I think you’re about to crush my fingers.”

Samuel laughs, a warm sound that cuts through the haze of pain. “Sorry,” he says, loosening his grip slightly. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good,” he says. “Now get ready, baby. One more to go.”

I nod, my breath hitching as I bear down again. But nothing happens. Panic flares in my chest, and I glance at Dr. Mayer. “Why isn’t this one coming out as easily?”

“He must be a mama’s boy,” Samuel says.

I let out a breathy laugh, but it’s cut short as another contraction tears through me. “Not funny.”

“Just a little stubborn,” Dr. Mayer says. “Keep going—you’re almost there.”

Minutes later, the pressure builds to an unbearable peak, and then suddenly, it releases. A second cry fills the air, this one louder but just as heart-stopping as the first. My head falls back against the pillow, the exhaustion overwhelming.

“Baby number two,” Dr. Mayer announces, her voice warm and happy. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad.”

Samuel kisses my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he steps away to see our sons. The ache in my chest isn’t from the labor, it’s from the love I already feel and the need to hold them.

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