Page 67 of Tossed into the Mob
“A girl.” Niles squeed.
Brock collapsed in a heap of jelly limbs. “Please.”
I placed our wailing daughter on my mate’s chest and took off my hoodie and wrapped it over her. Watching my mate’s face transform from laboring omega to new dad was interrupted by a wail of sirens.
“The ambulance.” Niles was crying and stroking the baby’s head.
I was gulping back tears, trying to be professional but just wanting to hold Brock and our daughter and forget the rest of the world existed.
“Sorry, we went to the wrong floor.”
Brock wanted to go home, but I asked him to let the hospital staff examine him and the baby. They wheeled Brock and our daughter into the elevator, and Niles and I squeezed in with them. My hand was in Brock’s as I thought of who all I had to contact. My folks, of course, and then Grandpa. He’d notify everyone else.
As I entered the hospital, I observed the staff not as their colleague but as a new father. People congratulated me, and I must have thanked them, but I longed to be cuddling with my mate and baby girl.
When the doctor pronounced both Brock and our daughter healthy, my mate was placed in a wheelchair. Niles was going to take him to the main entrance while I drove the car to meet them.
“We don’t have the infant car seat,” Brock pointed out. Ours was at home with all the other baby paraphernalia.
Damn. I hotfooted it to the mall over the road and bought one and raced back to my mate. But while I’d been gone, Grandpa had arrived, along with Rudy.
“Brock told me the baby was born in your car.”
I assured him our daughter was healthy, but he insisted we take his car and he’d follow in the birth mobile, as he referred to my vehicle.
Neither Brock nor I argued. He was exhausted, and we wanted our daughter at home where we could enjoy being a new family.
Brock sat in the back seat with the baby while Niles was with me in the front.
“Too hot or too cold?” I adjusted the temperature, not wanting our daughter to be uncomfortable.
“It’s just right.” The baby was wearing a onesie Grandpa had brought and was covered in a blanket, not one of the thirty or so that sat in the nursery. I had visions of being overrun with zombie baby blankets.
“Is there something wrong with Grandpa’s car?” my mate asked before yawning.
“What? Why?” I studied the dashboard and took my foot off the gas. There were no red lights alerting me to a problem, and we had plenty of gas. “No.”
Brock giggled. “I love that you’re driving safely, but our daughter will have her first birthday in the car if you don’t go a little faster.”
“Fine.” I pressed on the accelerator and increased the speed by one mile an hour. “We have precious cargo and can’t afford to get in an accident.”
“Okay. I love you, brand-new alpha dad.” Brock caught my eye in the rear-view mirror.
“Love you forever and always, my amazing mate who brought our daughter safely into the world.”
Brock's eyes began to close as he rested a protective hand on the baby.
“What are you going to name her?” Niles asked.
TWENTY-FOUR
BROCK
The woods smelled different today as I trailed my fingertips over the long grass. Treyton was carrying the baby in the carrier on his chest, and Dad was with us as we strolled in the woods behind our house. My mate may or may not shift later, but if so, my dad and I would wander home and bathe the baby.
Being mated to a shifter had improved my scenting ability, and I picked up the earthy scent of moss that covered the rocks near the creek. The pine tree sap was particularly strong today, and I wrinkled my nose at the decaying leaves under my feet.
Treyton paused and waited for me to catch up while Dad bent over to sniff a wildflower.
