Page 47

“Can you look at one another, please?”

He had a box full of props. A fox stuffie and signs that read, “Counting the days til you’re here.”

We’d brought the fox bicycle helmets and tiny shoes and baby clothes.

“I hope my bladder lasts until the end of the shoot.” There were no buildings on the den land, and I should have hired a portable potty, but Joss insisted he could pee behind a bush no problem.

“Garner, I’d like you to kneel and kiss Joss’s belly, please.”

I caressed my mate’s bump and placed my lips on his paternity shirt. Joss put a hand at the back of my head.

“Don’t move.” Ralph snapped away.

My mate was pressing his hand harder on my scalp, but I didn’t want to complain and ruin the shot. He was squishing my face on his big belly, and the world went dark as my eyes and lips were squeezed into the fabric.

“Babe,” I mumbled. “Not so hard.”

Joss’s body clenched, and his bump was harder than it had been seconds earlier. It had to be indigestion or acid reflux because he’d been suffering from both as the birth date drew closer.

“Maybe a little less grunting and more smiling, Joss. Shall we try again?” Ralph pleaded.

My mate let out a long breath and released me. I got up, thinking we’d end the shoot and head home. Joss had been sitting, also in my arms, and now he was standing and it was too much. He should be on the sofa holding lemonade with his feet up.

“I think Joss is tired, Ralph.”

“Perfect timing. I have everything I need. Wanna have a look?”

“No!” Joss’s screech had Ralph freeze, the camera extended in one hand.

“Ummm, okaaaay.” He backed off.

“That was a contraction. The baby wants out.”

Ralph’s eyes bugged out, and he held up his hands. “I know nothing about birthing babies.”

My gaze rested on the sign that read, “Counting the days til you’re here.” It couldn’t be today. We weren’t at home or the shifter birthing unit Joss had chosen because he wasn’t comfortable bringing the baby into the world without medical professionals assisting.

“We’ll get you back to town.” I unlocked the car and took my mate’s arm, but after a few steps he doubled up in pain and panted. Instinctively I breathed with him, and for those seconds, I experienced a sense of, not calm, because my mate was in pain, but as if this was meant to be. We were following in the footsteps of generations of shifters.

But once Joss’s body stopped cramping, I tried to pick him up, but he declared we’d never make it back to the city

“Ralph, make yourself useful and google birthing a baby in the woods.” Shifters had been bringing babies into the world by themselves since time began. I needed hints as to what I should be doing. “Wait, there are towels in a bag in the trunk and a blanket and cushion in the back seat. Also grab wet wipes from the glove compartment.”

Booker and I had started playing squash, hence the towels. And despite being hotter than normal, thanks to the little one inside him, Joss had taken to turning the car air-conditioningto freezing and covering himself with a blanket while I shivered beside him.

“What are the towels for?” My mate scrunched up his face.

“No idea, but they need them in the movies.”

Ralph deposited the items I’d asked for on the ground and then edged his way to his vehicle.

“Hey, we might need your help. Don’t go.”

Joss squeezed my shoulder. “Let him leave. There’s nothing he can do.”

“What?” I’d be alone with my mate, and I had no idea what to expect, despite watching videos and going to shifter birthing classes. Knowing the doctors and midwives at the birthing unit would step in had been reassuring, and my job was to support my mate. That was my role. Not to be a birthing coach.

“But he could… ummm…”