Page 56 of Upshot

“I did. When I couldn’t get you to answer the phone, I wanted so badly to storm over to your house. I wanted to pound on the door until you had no choice but to hear me out. But I realized I needed to go back. I had to burn that bridge permanently. I needed my father to see me do that.”

“What did you do?” she whispers.

“I handed him my resignation, and I left. I quit my job, packed my stuff, and listed my condo. Oh, and the sailboat is en route to Lake Travis. I’m not sure where that is, but they assured me it would be a decent lake to sail on.”

She laughs. It’s the best sound I’ve heard in a week. “It’s between here and Austin.”

“That’s perfect.”

“But, Rand, you quit your job.” She takes my hand. I must be saying something right. “What will you do?”

“I’ll find something. I’m not worried.” I take her other hand. “I don’t even care what it is. As long as I’m here, I’m where I belong. With my family. All the rest is just details.”

Brontë’s eyes blink several times. I might lose my mind, waiting for her to respond. I don’t know what I’ll do if she leaves anyway. My mind refuses to contemplate that question.

She was so worried that I would take our child away from her with our fancy lawyers and endless funds. But she’s always been the one who holds all the cards. I don’t just want the baby, I want the mother too.

“Say something,” I beg.

Anything would be better than silence. She nods twice then her eyes go wide.

“I think we’ll have to talk about this later,” she says.

No, I don’t want to talk about this later. I want to work this out now. I need her forgiveness, or I don’t think I can survive. Hold on. Why are my pants getting wet? Oh, crap. I jump up from the couch and look at Brontë.

“Yeah, your family is about to make an appearance,” she says.

“We should go to the hospital.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. Geesh. All of our problems fly out the window. At least for now. She’s right, we can deal with that later. Right now, we have something much bigger to think about.

“Don’t panic. We have time. I don’t want to ride the whole way with wet pants.” Okay. I can handle this. I negotiate million-dollar deals, or I did. This is a cakewalk. Yeah, I’m laughing at me too. I have no idea what to do.

“What do we need to do?” When in doubt, ask the obvious.

“Can I take a shower?”

“Of course. Come on, I’ll help you.” Taking both of her arms, I pull her up from the couch. Carefully, I help her up the stairs to the bathroom. I sink to my knees to wrestle off her shoes, socks, pants, and still sexy but wet panties. She removes her shirt. “Do you need me to stand in the shower with you?”

“No, I think I’m okay. Do you have anything I can use for pants?”

Turning the shower to lukewarm, I help her inside. Then it’s time to hunt for pants.

“Rand!”

I toss the sweats I pulled from the drawer on the bed and race back into the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, jerking open the shower door. She’s holding on to the side with a grimace on her face. “Contraction?”

She nods. I step inside, turning the shower off. In less than two seconds, I have her in my arms. It’s not long before she straightens back up.

“I’m good. Can you help me dress?” We step from the shower. I can’t seem to let her more than an arm’s length away as I dry and dress her.

The sweats look interesting pushed under her belly, but they’re all I have. I almost have her dressed when she doubles over again. I remember I read somewhere that I should be timing these things.

“Let me get you settled so I can time you. Where would you like to lay down? The couch is leather, so I should be able to dry it if you want to go there,” I say when the contraction passes.

“Okay, but can I walk through the nursery once more before we go downstairs?”

“Whatever you want to do.” Taking her arm, we walk down the hall to the nursery. She stands in the doorway, looking around. Then, with a nod, she starts for the stairs. I’m right there to make sure a contraction doesn’t hit and cause her to fall.

---