Page 18 of Beneath His Vow (Knocked Up and Locked Down #1)

FIFTEEN

LEXI

The weeks after I quit my job are healing. I spend time at the clubhouse, recovering from what happened, learning to feel human again.

Tasha tells me that James left the company the day after he attacked me, and when he came in to get his stuff, his face was all fucked up. I didn’t tell her that was courtesy of my husband.

My belly grows heavier. My hips ache, my back throbs, and I can barely breathe with her under my ribs, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

Casey takes care of me in every way. The last few weeks, he’s spent every available moment decorating the nursery and making a home for our daughter. She won’t sleep in here for a while, but I like knowing it’s ready.

By thirty-three weeks, I’m ready to drop this kid. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my entire life.

My bump is heavy, and my daughter feels like she’s constantly bouncing on my bladder, but Casey can’t keep his hands off me.

Every night before we go to sleep, he kisses my stretch marks while he talks to our daughter.

He’s going to be the most amazing father. He already is. The way he takes care of me makes all the darkness James left on my soul feel lighter.

Now, I’m thirty-eight weeks and two days, more belly than person and so ready to meet my kid.

Which is why I’m in the nursery, folding onesies, and trying not freak out about how big they are.

How the fuck am I supposed to push something that size out of my body?

I can’t even think about it.

I set it down as tightness spreads across my belly.

Ouch.

I’ve been getting Braxton Hicks for the last two weeks. The first few times it happened, Casey freaked out, thinking I was in labor. He was so stressed I’ve stopped telling him when I get them.

But damn, this one hurts more than usual.

I rub my lower back as the muscles tighten, breathing through it until it passes.

If this is just the warmup, I dread to think how bad the real show is going to be.

I reach for the next and smile. It was a present from Chopper. It has motorcycles on the front and is so cute.

I place it in the drawer with the others and glance around the room.

I love it.

Casey did such a good job. Sage green walls, soft accents—the perfect space for our daughter to sleep in.

“You’re supposed to be off your feet.”

I glance over my shoulder. Casey is leaning against the doorjamb.

He’s so damn attractive it makes my chest flutter like I’m a lovesick teenager.

He’s not wearing his cut, just a tight-fitting black tee that stretches over his thick muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos, including the one he’s started for our daughter.

“I’m pregnant, not dying.”

If he had his way, he’d keep me in bed all day.

But then my belly tightens again.

That’s the fourth one in quick succession.

I hold my breath behind my smile until it loosens.

Casey prowls over and even though I feel huge, he’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He cups my stomach, ducking down so he can kiss above the slope of my belly. “I want my girls resting.”

When he straightens, I smile at him. “This is my idea of resting, Casey. I enjoy sorting her clothes.”

He doesn’t argue. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like this kid is sitting so low in my pelvis I’m worried I might sneeze and she’ll come out.” I’m not even joking. It feels like she’s between my legs.

“Just means she’s getting ready.”

“Well, let’s hope she comes soon. I don’t think I can get any bigger. I’m already waddling like a duck.”

His fingers trail across the tight skin of my belly. “I like the waddle. It’s sexy.”

I snort a laugh. “Now I know you’re a lying.”

“I love everything about you being pregnant, Lexi. This big round belly that’s all mine, filled with our baby, the marks across your skin that show you carried her, that you fought a war for her. I can’t wait to get you pregnant again.”

I glare at him. “You’re not coming near me until she’s at least twenty. Period.”

I don’t mean it, and he knows it. As uncomfortable as I am, I’ve loved every second of carrying my daughter, and I love the way he sees me when I’m pregnant.

Another cramp ripples through my back. I rub absently at the spot. Of course he notices. “You hurtin’?”

“I’m fine. Probably just need to sit down for a bit.”

He raises a brow. “So I was right? You need to be off your feet?”

“I didn’t?—”

I don’t say anything more because what hits me isn’t a cramp. It’s breath-stealing pain.

My hand latches around his bicep as I fold over my belly. Fuck. Oh. Shit. That hurts.

It’s like someone is tearing through my insides.

Casey steadies me as my legs threaten to buckle.

“Babe? Is it time?”

“It hurts. Oh fuck, it hurts so bad.” The words are garbled under my gasp of pain.

I breathe through my nose, trying to stay calm, but it’s pretty hard when it feels like someone is taking a chainsaw to my uterus.

“Just breathe, Lex.”

I want to snarl at him to just fucking breathe, but there’s no air in my lungs anymore.

The muscles unclench and I can think again, talk again. “I think it was a contraction.”

“You think, or you know?”

I glare at him. “How would I know? I’ve never done this before.”

I don’t mean to snap and I feel instantly guilty. He doesn’t flinch. He never does.

“Was that the first one?”

Shit. I wince. “I’ve been cramping for the last few hours.”

He stares at me. Blinks, then narrows his gaze. “What?”

I scowl. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought it was Braxton Hicks. How was I supposed to know it was contractions? I don’t even know if this is a contraction.”

He huffs. “How far apart are they? Are they regular? Where are you feeling them?”

“I don’t know, maybe a few minutes, and it’s hard to tell.”

Before he can say anything, another pain rips through me. This one is worse and it feels like the baby is between my legs.

I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me upright because he kind of is.

This isn’t a practice contraction. It’s too sharp, too painful. My brain is in full panic mode as my body tightens to unbearable pain and then relaxes, as if it never happened.

“We’re going to the hospital.”

“And what if it’s not labor?”

“Lex, you’ve left nail marks on my arm.”

I peer down at the half moon indentations on his skin. Red and angry. “Shit. Casey, I’m sorry.”

He kisses my forehead, so tender, so warm that tears clog my throat. “Don’t. I’d take all the pain in the world if it helps you get through this.”

“You can’t say stuff like that unless you want me to cry.”

“Cry later. Let’s go and have a baby.”

The labor is awful. There are times when I think I come out of my body because the pain is so intense. It’s like dying while still breathing. Every part of me is fracturing from the inside out.

Hours into it, I’m so tired death begins to look like a reprieve.

Casey never waivers, not even for a second. He holds my hand through every contraction, holds my hair back when I puke my guts up right before I transition, and the entire time she’s tearing her way out of my body he’s whispering into my hair that he loves me and that I’m so strong.

I’m pretty sure I scream some terrible things at him, but with a final push, our daughter slides out of my body and into the waiting hands of the doctor.

The relief is immense, even though I’m shaking violently as I sag back into the pillows.

Am I dead?

Everything hurts.

I can’t see properly. My vision swims and everything tilts.

Then I hear it. The unmistakable squall of a newborn baby.

My chest is full as the doctor lays a pink wriggly baby on me and all the pain fades to the background.

She’s tiny, her face screwed up like she’s already pissed off at the world. White gunk covers her, blood too, but she’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever fucking seen.

I can’t look away, can’t do anything but stare at her and her bright blue eyes.

Casey kisses my temple over and over, like he can’t stand to not touch me for even a second.

“You did it. She’s so fucking perfect, Lexi. Look at her.”

He reaches out, and our baby wraps her fingers around his. Tiny nails, tiny everything. I’m already in love.

“Hey, little one. I’m your daddy. I’m the annoying guy who spent all that time talking to you while you were tryin’ to sleep in Mommy’s belly.”

I’m pretty sure every single woman in this room is melting. The nurses are smiling, the doctor too.

I can’t blame them.

“I already love her,” I whisper, dragging a finger over her soft cheek.

“I love you both,” he says, his voice raw. “Thank you, Lexi, for making me a father.”

His eyes are shiny with tears and I grip his hand.

“I love you so much. That might change when this happy period wears off and I remember her big ass-head tore my vagina on the way out.”

“You’re mine, Lexi Callahan. You and our daughter. And I’ll fuckin’ fight the world to keep you both safe.”

No matter what it took us to get here, it was all worth it.