Page 43 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

“Push.”

Oh God, if she had to push one more time. In fact, if she even had to hear the word ever again in her life, Claire would have to scream.

“Aarrggh.”

She settled for a terrible-sounding groan of pain instead.

After twelve hours of labor, she made up her mind that this would be the final push if it was the last thing she did.

She hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night and all she wanted to do was meet her baby and then roll over and go to sleep.

Although, given the way she was currently feeling, she wouldn’t even be moving any time soon, let alone rolling.

Yes, this would have to be the last push.

Logan leaned down, brushing away a hank of hair that had been plastered to her forehead by sweat. “Just a little bit more, sweetheart.”

He looked like hell warmed over, she thought as she prepared to push one final time.

Of course, she was certain that as bad as he looked, she must look at least a billion times worse.

Giving birth, she had discovered, was not an attractive process.

She was sweating like a pig, her eyes were probably bloodshot and her legs were like the Christmas goose.

“Now,” ordered her doctor.

Putting every ounce of energy she had remaining into it, Claire pushed. And suddenly, just like that, as though she hadn’t been struggling in vain for twelve hours, her baby arrived into the world.

“Congratulations,” the doctor called. “It’s a girl.”

“It’s a girl.” Logan beamed with fatherly pride, squeezing her hand so hard she winced. In fairness though, she’d been doing her fair share of that for the past twelve hours and he would probably have the bruises to show for it later on. “We have a daughter.”

As if to second that pronouncement, their daughter offered a hearty cry.

“Oh.” It was all Claire could manage to say. She hadn’t had much use for words in the past few hours. Her throat constricted, clogged by emotions so incredible, so powerful. Tears swam in her eyes, running down her cheeks.

Logan kissed her, a quick, hard meeting of mouths. “I’m going to see her now, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” she managed.

He disappeared from her range of vision for a few moments.

“Ten fingers,” he called from somewhere. “And ten toes. She’s beautiful. She has a head full of downy blonde hair.”

Then she heard a faint “oh no” issued from the same direction, followed by a loud thump. She struggled to sit up. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her heart lodging somewhere in the vicinity of her tonsils. “Is the baby all right?”

“She’s fine,” her doctor assured her, the crinkling of her eyes above the green surgical mask signaling that she was smiling. “But I’m afraid that Daddy has passed out.”

Claire was dimly aware of a low rumbling somewhere around the periphery of her subconscious.

It sounded familiar, comforting somehow, even though she couldn’t quite discern what it was.

She was so tired, bone-tired. She’d never been more tired in her life, in fact.

Her eyelids felt as if they had been glued shut with Krazy Glue.

As she became more aware of her surroundings, her memory reasserted itself.

Ah yes, the reason for her utter exhaustion.

She remembered endless hours of labor, excruciatingly painful before the epidural, not quite as bad afterward but still heinous.

She remembered the first cry of her baby as she came into the world, the doctor’s pronouncement that she had a daughter, Logan counting fingers and toes, then passing out.

Wait a second. Passing out?

She peeled her eyes open, searching the room, relieved to find Logan seated in a chair at her bedside, holding a bundle wrapped in a pink and blue blanket in his arms. He didn’t realize she was awake, so she took the liberty of watching him with their daughter for a few moments.

He was making silly little noises at the baby that she found hard to believe were actually coming from his lips, touching the oh-so-tiny hand that had risen from the blanket.

She’d never seen his face so filled with naked love and wonder before.

He looked, in short, like a man who had fallen completely and hopelessly in love.

He also looked as though he had recovered quite nicely from his earlier scrape, thank God.

“How’s she doing?” Claire asked, her voice coming out scratchy and hoarse.

Logan started, his gaze flying to her. “She’s wonderful. Perfect. A little angel. How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m sore.” She shifted uncomfortably. “And tired. But other than that, I’m happy. Relieved that it’s finally over and she’s here with us.” She paused. “How are you feeling? The last I heard before I fell asleep was that they were afraid you had a concussion.”

The look he gave her was embarrassed. “No concussion, just a goose egg and bruised pride. I don’t know what came over me.

I think it was that I hadn’t had anything to eat and I hadn’t slept.

All I know is that one minute I was looking down at our daughter about to cut her cord and the next there was a nurse hovering over me holding up three fingers, demanding to know how many I saw. ”

She laughed, then pressed a hand to her suddenly deflated abdomen. “That hurts.”

“Well,” Logan said expectantly, “do you want to hold our daughter?”

“Of course I do.” She’d been so exhausted earlier that she must have fallen asleep before she could even hold her daughter for the first time. But she didn’t mind. It seemed somehow more appropriate that Logan should be the one handing her their daughter for the first time.

“I present to you Baby Thumper.”

As though she were made of glass, Logan carefully laid their daughter into Claire’s waiting arms. As Claire looked down into the pink face and the wide blue eyes blinking up at her, an intense wave of love washed over her. She was sure she looked exactly like Logan had just moments before.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” She ran a finger along the baby’s cheek. “You’re right, she’s absolutely perfect.”

“Just like her mother.”

She looked up with surprise to find Logan staring at her intently. “Logan, I…” The words she wanted to say failed to find their way to her lips. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how happy she was to have him by her side with their daughter in her arms. How completed she felt.

But instead, she looked back down at the baby in her arms. “What do you think we should name her?” She pulled the blanket aside to examine her daughter’s miniature hands and her feet.

“She’s so small,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Claire’s index finger was longer than the baby’s entire hand.

It seemed almost surreal to finally have her in her arms.

Logan leaned closer, offering his finger for the baby to curl hers around. “Do you remember when we were in Maryland at that little café and we were talking about what we would name the baby if she turned out to be a girl?”

Of course she remembered every second of their time together in Maryland. It had been the best week of her life. The part that came after it, on the other hand, not so much.

“We decided on Julie,” Claire said, looking back down at their daughter. She looked like she could be a Julie, Claire decided.

“What do you think?”

“I still like it.” She looked back at Logan to find him still watching her with that disturbingly intent expression.

“So do I.” He paused. “What about a middle name?”

“My niece who passed away,” Claire said after a moment. “Her name was Elizabeth. I would like it if we could name Julie after her.”

“Julie Elizabeth Monroe.” He smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

He wanted their daughter to have his last name. It was something they hadn’t discussed in all the months leading up to this moment. The idea of Julie being a Monroe appealed to Claire. She was almost too afraid to hope there was as much significance to it as her labor-addled mind placed on it.

“It does have a nice ring to it,” she agreed, unable to keep her gaze from their daughter for too long. The newly christened Julie blinked up at her. “Not quite as nice as Derek Junior, but I suppose it’ll have to do.”

Logan laughed, the sound low, husky and pleasing to Claire’s ears.

She liked this intimate setting, just the three of them.

It was so easy to pretend that they were a normal family.

That Logan loved her and she loved him. Although she was beginning to realize that she didn’t have to pretend to love him. She already did.

Oh God.

When had it happened? She couldn’t really decide.

Maybe it had been happening gradually, in little increments.

Or maybe it had happened in the moment he walked into her hotel room in New York City.

Or maybe it had been the first time she’d seen tears in his eyes, when he had thanked her for carrying their child.

She didn’t really know when The Moment had happened, when she had fallen hopelessly, inextricably in love with Logan.

But she did know that she realized it for the first time right there in the hospital room, with their baby in her arms and him by her side.

“I called your mother, your sister and Derek earlier,” Logan said, breaking up her thoughts. “I’m sure they’ll all descend on us as soon as visiting hours start.”

“Mmm,” Claire murmured noncommittally. She was hesitant to have someone else intrude on them. Having Logan and Julie all to herself felt nice. “What time is it, anyway?” She felt as if she had been in the hospital for weeks instead of hours, so completely had she lost track of the outside world.

Logan flicked a glance at his watch. “Seven thirty.”

She noticed again how tired he looked. “Have you slept at all, Logan?”

He gave her a half smile. “No, but it wasn’t very highly recommended after my incident.”

It was Claire’s turn to laugh before wincing in pain. “How is your head feeling?”