Page 119 of Hooked On Them

“You’re progressing nicely, about seven centimeters. We’ll check again soon.”

As she left, the door swung open with a dramatic flourish, and Miles appeared, struggling with an enormous duffel bag.

“What in the world? I already have my bag.” I laughed. “Did you pack for a month-long expedition?”

Miles dropped the bag and rushed to my side, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I thought you might want a few more things.”

He started unpacking: fuzzy socks in three colors, lip balm, a sleep mask, a tiny fan, multiple hair ties, a photo of all four of us from Christmas, a travel pillow, slippers, and what looked like an entire CVS pharmacy aisle.

“How are you feeling?” He came over to the bed and smoothed my hair back.

“Like I’m about to push a watermelon through a keyhole, but otherwise great.”

He laughed, taking my hand. “Your dad and Josie are in the waiting room when you’re ready to see them.”

The door burst open again, and there he was, still glowing from victory, hair damp from a hasty shower, eyes wild with a mixture of triumph and terror. Dominic.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he panted, clearly having run from wherever he’d parked. “Traffic was a mess. Did I miss anything? Are you okay? Is the baby coming yet?”

The question barrage hit me like a verbal tidal wave. “Slow down, Stanley Cup champion. We’re still in the early stages of this marathon.”

Dominic crossed the room in three strides, cradling my face in his hands like I was the most precious thing in the world. His fingers trembled slightly against my skin.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

I snorted. “I’m sweaty, puffy, and hooked up to more wires than NASA Mission Control.”

“Still beautiful.” His thumbs stroked my cheeks. “I can’t believe this is happening today.”

Something about the wonder in his voice melted through my sarcastic defenses. My eyes pricked with tears. “Believe it. Your daughter has impeccable timing.” I didn’t want to burst his bubble and tell him it more than likely wouldn’t happen until tomorrow.

Dominic’s smile was watery as he leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “Are you scared?”

“Terrified,” I admitted. “But so ready to meet her.”

Carter approached with a cup of ice chips, held out like an offering to a goddess. “Sustenance for the warrior queen.”

“Thank you, loyal subject.” I accepted a spoonful of chips, letting them dissolve on my tongue.

The atmosphere in the room settled into a comfortable pocket of calm before the life-changing storm. Miles pulled up a chair and took one of my feet into his lap, massaging gently. Carter settled on my other side, and appointed himself Chief Ice Chip Provider. Dominic sat on the edge of the bed, one hand on my belly, the other brushing hair away from my face with reverence.

Hours had passed, and my dad and sister had visited and long since gone back to their hotel to get some sleep. I was getting a second wind after a brief nap.

After a gnarly contraction, Carter pulled a Bluetooth speaker from his bag. “I made a birthing playlist.”

Three groans filled the room.

“What? It’s carefully curated! I spent hours on it!”

“Does it include ‘Push It’ by Salt-N-Pepa?” Miles asked dryly.

Carter’s silence was damning.

“Absolutely not.” I relaxed back into my pillows as the contraction ebbed. “No pun-based birthing music.”

“Fine.” Carter looked wounded. “But I’m keeping ‘Ice Ice Baby’ for when we need to remember the importance of ice chips. We need to keep you hydrated.”

Another contraction built, stronger this time, and I gripped Dominic’s hand. He immediately leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re doing amazing.”

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