Page 27 of Reindeer in the Headlights
“What do you want for lunch? I’ll make you whatever you desire.”
“You can’t want that, because what I want, what I really, really want is a hot turkey sandwich from the diner.” He licked his lips. He didn’t just want one; he was craving it.
“Should we go out to lunch?”
“I don’t fit in the booths anymore.” A fact I’d forgotten about. “I don’t want to go there until I do. You can go.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” Not with him this pregnant and the diner being nearly half an hour away.
“Go.” He pointed in the direction of the road. “Go and get my turkey sandwich and pie… coconut cream if they have it. Oh, and if they have any of their chili...”
“Is baby hungry?”
“Yeah, oddly enough. I haven’t been for a few days, so maybe that’s a good sign. Please?” He gave me his puppy dog eyes, the ones he reserved for when he wanted something badly.
“Fine, I’ll go. Don’t go into labor while I’m gone.”
“I promise.” He held up two fingers. “No labor until you return.”
I let go of his hand and started walking around the house to the truck.
“Mate, you need to put some clothes on!”
Oops. I ran in the house, got dressed, grabbed my keys and wallet and another set of important items for the trip. After he settled on the couch with the two now-cats… although technically, probably still kittens, and started scrolling through the movie options for later that day, I left.
The diner was packed. I had no idea why. It wasn’t a holiday, they weren’t running any specials, and it was a little past normal lunchtime, but they were full. It took forever to get my order, and by the time I drove back and pulled into our drive, it was nearly an hour and a half later.
“I got your food!” I called, shutting the door behind me. I didn’t see my mate but heard the shower running. I set the food on the counter and went in to let him know I was back and see if he wanted any help or possibly company.
“You’re gonna be mad at me,” he said before I managed a word. He was leaning against the shower wall, looking absolutely miserable.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I promised you that I wouldn’t go into labor. And guess what?”
“You’re in labor?” I shouldn’t have gone. My poor mate had been dealing with this on his own.
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. Do you want me to call the midwife or take you to the hospital?” I asked. He had multiple birth plans, deciding that we would do whatever felt right at the time.
“Actually, I... I don’t know. Maybe after the shower and some food, I’ll figure it out.”
The human doctors were adamant… no food after labor started. They never really explained why. The midwife, who specialized in shifter births, didn’t have any such rule, so I wasn’t going to argue with what he asked for. Whatever my mate needed or wanted, he could do.
He stayed in the shower til it ran cold. I helped dry him off and blow-dried his hair. With only a pair of pajama pants on, he sat at the table with the chili, the pie, and the turkey sandwich spread out in front of him.
“I’m starving.”
He took exactly one bite of each before deciding he was full. The pregnant life.
“I’ll pack this up for you.” He’d probably want more in ten minutes. It was a common pattern lately.
I put everything away and nearly dropped it all as I was setting it in the fridge when I heard my mate cry out my name.
I ran to him and rubbed his back as he continued to wail.
When he was done, he straightened up. “Well, that was a bad one.”
