Page 37 of Knocked Up in Alaska

“I don’t freak out.”

“Ford.” Her lips curved into a smile containing a hint of exasperation. She tipped her head to the side in a way that said, Look at yourself.

He took stock. Okay, so he stood there filling the doorway, with white-knuckled grips on either side of the doorframe, leaning in as if he could somehow contain this situation with his body. Which he could not. Releasing a deep breath, he let go of the doorframe and stepped back. “I’m not going to freak out.”

“Your eyes are kind of…” She darted her pretty green ones up, down, left, and right. Then she reached up and rested a cool palm against his cheek. “Just relax. I’m not going to explode. Yet.”

Should have shaved, was the first unhinged thought to leap into his head. Had he known she’d be touching his face today he’d have smoothed it up for her. The next, more crucial thought was that he had to pull himself together. He willed his heart rate slower, rolled his shoulders to loosen them, and met her gaze with one he purposefully held steady. “And I’m not going to freak out. Yet.”

“Good.” She dropped her hand to his chest, and he wondered if she was checking his heart rate. “Dr. Devan took a day trip to Glacier Bay. She’s heading back now.”

“Glacier Bay?” His voice echoed loudly in the short hallway. “Holy shit.” This was bad. Bad, he silently reiterated as he dragged a hand through his hair rather than follow his first impulse to pound the wall. Gustavus, the closest town to the park entrance, was only about sixty miles away as the crow flew but had no road access. She’d either flown there or hopped on the ferry. Depending upon where she was in the park, it could take hours to return to Captivity. Did they have hours? “ETA?”

“Three hours. Maybe four. She’s pretty deep in the park. She took the earliest ferry to get there, but she’s going to call Captivity Air on the way back to Gustavus and see if she can arrange for a pickup.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“You said you wouldn’t freak out,” came a quiet voice from behind him. Somehow, he’d turned himself around. The hand in his hair was now a fist, yanking hard enough to make his scalp sting.

He swung back to face her. “You’re right. No reason to freak out. Just ’cause you’re in early labor, the doc is God knows where, and”—another sharp little factoid stabbed into his mind—“women are supposed to fly to the hospital in Juneau to have babies. The clinic isn’t a birthing center.”

“It is today. She’s delivered plenty of babies. They don’t normally do it at the clinic because of insurance reasons, but she wants me to stay put since my water has already broken. Things could move kind of fast, and— Oh…”

Now she grabbed the doorframe and held tight. With her chin to her chest, she sipped in quick, shallow inhales.

Before he knew what the hell he was saying or doing, he had his hands clasped around her shoulders, muttering, “Oh god, Lilah, baby, please don’t…” Push? Hurt? Have a baby? These things were all inevitable, he acknowledged even while he stood there trying to pour strength into her with the contact and absorb her pain. Wasted effort, the semi-functional logic center in his brain told him.

After forever she sighed, let go of the doorframe, and blinked at him. “Dang it. I’m supposed to time the length of the contractions. Do you think that was about a minute?”

“I think that was about a thousand years,” he replied, meaning it. “Here.” He undid his watch and handed it to her. “Use this. Let’s go.” Sliding an arm around her shoulders, he prepared to pick her up, but she stepped away.

“Uh-uh. Ford, I can walk.” She went on before he could argue. “According to Dr. Devan, walking is good. I’m just going to grab my purse from behind the bar, and then I’ll drive over to the clinic and wait for Beverly. I’m sorry to leave you short-handed like this—”

“I’m driving you.”

For some reason, she colored at his statement and shook her head. “Uh-uh. I can walk on my own, and I can drive to the clinic on my own. I don’t need you to take charge.”

He just stared, not a hundred percent sure he’d heard her right, but the little chin he’d always found adorable pushed forward, and she crossed her arms. Where was this resistant streak coming from? What had happened to polite, biddable Lilah? “This is non-negotiable. I’m driving.” He wrapped a hand around her arm. “You’re timing the contractions. It’s called teamwork. Come on.”

With that, he turned to get moving, but she dug in her heels. Okay, he could be stubborn, too, and he had a significant height and weight advantage. He towed her down the short hall, feeling like a bully. When they reached the kitchen, he’d had enough. He let go and turned to her. “Give me a little bit of a break, here, Lilah. Please. I’m trying to help.”

Blushing furiously, she folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor, then at something over his shoulder. “Can you drive me in my car?”

Fine. Done. Whatever. “I’ll drive you in any vehicle you want. Your Jeep. My truck. I’ll hotwire the Captivity Inn courtesy van if it makes you happy. Just say the word.”

“The Jeep,” she said softly but bestowed a quick, grateful smile on him. “The keys are in my bag.”

Awesome. They collected her bag. Silent Mike, Owen, and Louis assured him they’d hold things down at the bar. Thankfully, The Goose closed early on Sundays. It wasn’t until he was helping her into the passenger side of her truck and caught a glimpse of the wet stain on her leggings that he realized why she’d insisted on taking it. Not trusting himself to speak immediately, he went around and got behind the wheel, started the engine, and waited until she’d buckled her seat belt. Then he looked over at her. “Are we taking your car because you didn’t want to make a mess in mine?”

Her cheeks flamed, but she nodded. “Yours is so new.”

Jesus. This girl. He signaled and eased away from the curb. “What am I going to do with you?”

She looked his way, unwittingly, gut-wrenchingly beautiful with her long, light brown waves flowing back from her guileless face, showing off her high cheekbones, proud, straight little nose, and full, perfect lips. They curved into what struck him as a sad smile, and then she asked, “What would you like to do with me?”

Such a loaded question.

Nothing.

Everything.

Too many things he shouldn’t even try to articulate. He settled for, “Take you to the clinic. Hang around and pester you ’til the doc arrives.”

If she arrives.

Her eyes clouded. “Do you think you could stay for a while? Even after?”

The uncertainty in her voice broke him. She was anxious. Of course she was. Hell, he was terrified, and he had absolutely no critical role in this. She should have Shay by her side, or her mother. Unfortunately, due to bad luck and bad timing, neither of those people were going to be there for her. But he was.

He swallowed and squared his shoulders. “I’ll be at your side as long as you need me. Always.”

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