Page 23 of Knot Your Baby

Sophisticated? Calm?

I laugh and shake my head.

I don’t know why I laugh.I am so out of his league, it’s not funny.

His boss strides over, sweat-soaked and weary, surveying the scene. “Everything’s contained,” he says, shaking his head. “Butyou—” He points at me. “What were you thinking? You can’t just run in there. That was reckless.”

My cheeks heat up. “I needed to save my stuff.” My voice comes out weak and defensive, like I need to justify my actions. “My business for the next few months is here.” I hold up the diary.

The fireman’s hand rests on my knee, grounding me. His warmth spreads through me, cutting through the panic swirling in my chest.

“Reckless,” his boss repeats, folding his arms across his chest as if trying to contain a storm of frustration. “What if you’d gotten hurt? We’re not here for your bakery.”

I fight back tears.

Then it hits me—an intense pressure low in my belly.

No, no, no. Not now.

I will the feeling away as if the sheer force of my hopes will stop this from happening.

But my body betrays me again; another wave crashes through me. My breath catches in my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Breathe,” he urges softly, still crouched before me, and I feel him draw closer, protecting me.

“Freya?” His voice is firm, but still so tender.

I pull the mask back. “It’s fine,” I manage between breaths that come faster now.

His gaze narrows as he studies me closely. “You don’t look fine.”

Suddenly warmth rushes down my legs—a trickle that steals my breath away.

“Oh god.” Panic floods through me as realization hits me.

The other fireman notices instantly; his expression shifts from concern to alarm. “Fuck—that’s all we need.”

“I’m not giving birth here,” I protest, voice trembling as I lean forward slightly, desperate to hide this from everyone around us—especially him. “I need to go home!”

“You need the hospital.” His boss is already moving into action mode while still staring at me in disbelief. “Take her.” The command leaves his lips with an authority that leaves no room for argument.

I stare at the fireman with his big hand still on my leg, and all I can focus on is the warmth as he turns it over and shows me his palm. “Give me your keys.”

Chapter 7

Zane

I remove my oxygenmask and helmet, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. The omega in front of me gasps, her green eyes going wide.

“Keys,” I repeat, trying to maintain my professional demeanor despite how adorable she is. “I need to get you to the hospital.”

“I need to go home.” She crosses her arms, wincing as another contraction hits.

“You’re in labor. Hospital. Now.”

“I can’t. I need an overnight bag.”

I shake my head.

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