Page 32

MERIT

This acid reflux is killer.

Granted, I did eat fried rice for supper. And a hot dog during the first quarter. And a Snickers bar during the second quarter. And I may have had a couple of sips of Anna’s slushie. Well, really, half of it.

But still.

It shouldn’t be this bad.

I lean forward, inserting myself between Raylee and Ella. “Do y’all have anything for heartburn?”

Ella cocks her head, wafting the smell of her shampoo in my direction. “You’re sick?”

I shake my head. “Just too many flavors in my stomach.”

“I think I have some Tums out in the car,” Raylee says, standing.

Pushing up, I rub my chest. “I’ll go with you. I need to stretch my legs.”

“Me too,” Ella adds. She looks behind her to Teresa, who’s holding Hardy on her lap.

Teresa smiles brightly. “We’ll watch the kids, sweetie.”

I glance one last time at the field, catching the play, before we walk up the bleachers. We’re still pretty far from the gate, but that doesn’t matter, Crutch immediately knows his wife is in the vicinity. He’s like a hound dog with a nose specifically designed for her. His eyes latch onto her, devouring her, like he’s never seen a woman more beautiful. And I have to admit, Ella is gorgeous. But, of course, she’s not the only hot one in that relationship.

Crutch is drop-dead sexy tonight. Black polo with the sheriff’s department logo. Jeans. Boots. Gun.

He’s like a modern-day cowboy.

Of course, I prefer my modern-day football player with blond curls and deep blue eyes and freckles on his nose.

Crutch slides an arm around Ella’s back. “And just where are you ladies off to?”

“Merit has indigestion. Raylee’s got some medicine in her car.”

His brow furrows. “I’m working the gate.” He searches the crowd, looking for someone. When he loudly whistles, Ridge immediately appears from down the hill, catching Crutch’s eye.

Excusing himself from the group he’s talking to, Ridge jogs over to us. “What’s up?”

“The girls need to get something from Raylee’s car.”

Raylee dramatically sighs. “Y’all do realize that three grown women are quite capable of walking across a parking lot by themselves, right?”

Ridge wraps an arm around her shoulder and pushes her forward. “Yeah, but good thing you don’t have to.”

We’re nearly to Raylee’s SUV when it happens.

In one way, I guess it’s good to know I was wrong.

Very wrong.

It feels like someone just popped an industrial-strength rubber band inside my body. It’s an audible snap. I can actually hear it vibrate against my own eardrums.

It feels like I just got kicked by a goat.

Yeah, that happened once, so I know what it feels like.

The second my water breaks, fluid pours down my legs, soaking my panties and leggings. Liquid pools on the pavement. And the very next second, everything inside of me drops . Including Daire. There’s a heaviness in my crotch, like a bowling ball is about to fall out of me.

I feel open .

Exposed.

I feel like I need to… squat.

So, that’s what I do. I squat down, slapping my hands on the pebbled asphalt. A cry falls from my mouth.

Ella’s hand circles my shoulder. “Merit?”

Ridge spins on his heels, instantly hearing the worry in her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Raylee asks.

“Her water broke,” Ella answers.

Her words slowly sink in. I can’t believe she just said what I was thinking. That makes it real.

Very real.

“Holy shit!” Raylee bounces up and down.

Racing to my side, Ridge bends down and scoops me into his arms. “Change of plans. We’re going to my truck instead.”

I can’t believe this is happening. Like right now.

“It’s too early,” I protest. “It’s not time. There’s still fifteen more days to go.”

“Tell that to my godson. He has other plans.”

A cramp—well, I guess, it’s actually a contraction—overcomes me, making me wince. Fortunately, it only lasts for a few seconds. After that, I’m extremely cognizant of the fact that Ridge’s hands are near my ass and sliding all over my drenched clothes. Even his shirt is wet. “Oh no. You’re getting…my stuff…all over you.”

He glances down, checking his shirt. It doesn’t faze him. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“You’re used to it?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Merit, I’m a paramedic. I’ve delivered babies before.”

Holy crap. “Are you gonna deliver my baby?”

Gifting me a gentle smile, he chuckles. “No, the doctor’s gonna delivery your baby. At the hospital. We have plenty of time.”

Raylee opens the front passenger door to his truck.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Open the back. She’ll be more comfortable back there.” He then tells Raylee to get in first and sets me down beside her.

Crutch calls out in the distance, racing over to us. “What’s wrong? Did Merit fall?”

“Her water just broke.” Ella breaks into a wide smile.

“Holy shit,” he says.

That seems to be the consensus.

“We need to go get everyone,” Ella grabs his arm, pulling him.

Ridge is about to shut the door when I kick it with my foot. “Wait! Don’t tell Holt!”

Ella lifts an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“He’s down by a touchdown. Wait until the game’s over. Don’t tell him now.”

Crutch turns to his wife, lowering his voice. “Is she crazy? He’ll kill us.”

“Merit, we need to go. Now.” Ridge slams the door.

I pound on the window, yelling behind the glass. “I mean it! Don’t tell him yet. He needs to focus on the win.”

Jumping behind the wheel, Ridge pulls out of the parking lot. Raylee’s like a cat on a hot tin roof, hopping all over. And as for me, things are starting to get pretty damn uncomfortable down there—well, everywhere, really. My back is tight, and it feels like someone is rolling over it with a bicycle.

Yeah, that happened once too.

Ridge hits the button for his flashers and drives at a speed usually reserved for ambulances. I don’t have my seat belt on, so I’m flopping around like a wet fish. Raylee’s phone rings, and I hear her talking, but I can’t even focus long enough to decipher who’s on the other end of the line.

Ridge’s voice catches me off guard. I look up to see he’s on the phone too. “Deke? It’s Ridge.” After a pause he says two simple words. “It’s time.”

I can’t believe it’s time.

“Daddy?” I lean on the console, wondering if he can hear me.

“Merit, you need to sit back. You don’t have a seat belt on,” Ridge orders, before turning back to the phone. “We’re on our way to the hospital. She’s in labor.” When I don’t sit back, he calls for Raylee and she gently pulls me against her lap.

Ridge watches us in the rearview mirror before he responds to whatever my dad asked. “He’ll be right behind us. They’re having to pull him from the game.”

I look at Raylee, pouting. “I told them not to.”

She just laughs, “Yeah, he’ll probably be mad about that.”

A super-fierce contraction sends my body into a spasm, making me hold my breath.

“Merit, you can’t do that. You have to breathe,” he says.

I do my best to follow Ridge’s instructions, but it’s hard. Not only because of the pain, but because of the emotions swirling through my body like a firestorm. As soon as the contraction ends, I burst into tears.

Raylee squeezes my arm. “Oh honey, don’t worry. You can do this. Everything’s gonna be fine.” She tosses her hand in the air. “I read something that said eight babies are born every second in the world. Hell, if I can do it—twice—you are more than capable. I’m a wimp.”

I rub my eyes. “It’s not that.”

And surprisingly, it’s not. There’s a strange sense of calm flooding my body. Like a fine mist settling over a lake in the early morning. I’m not sure what all will happen, but I know we will be okay. Daire and me. Me and Daire. We’re going to be fine and healthy.

“Then what’s wrong?” she asks.

A loud sob wails from my body like a siren. “I can’t believe I’m not married.”

“Huh?” The look on her face is priceless. If I were in a better frame of mind, I’d laugh.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna be an unwed mother.”

“You’re engaged.” She points out the obvious, nodding to the ring on my finger.

“Engaged isn’t the same as married.” I attempt to wipe the snot from my nose, but I only succeed in spreading it all over my face. “What will my grandfather think?”

Raylee’s eyes widen, and she leans forward, grabbing the back of Ridge’s headrest, whispering into his ear. “I thought her grandfather passed away?”

I nod and hiccup, angry that my face is now sticky and itchy from the tears and snot. “He did. He’s dead,” I say bluntly. Falling back in the seat, I wiggle around through another contraction. “But can you imagine what he’d say? In the Old West, I’d be labeled as ruined .”

Raylee just stares at me. Eventually, she plasters a big smile on her face. “Well, hey, it’s the twenty-first century. Times change.” She shrugs, “Besides, he’d probably be more upset by the thought of you using a big, hot pink dildo.”

“Fucking shoot me now,” Ridge mumbles from the front seat.

At the hospital, everything is a rush. A whirlwind. It’s obvious they do this kind of stuff every day, but I don’t. It’s quite overwhelming. By the time Holt races into the delivery room, I’m already in a gown and hooked up to monitors.

He told me the vision he’ll have of me on his death bed will be that time at the farm—the moment he was able to fully soak in my pregnancy. White sundress. Rubber boots. Setting sun.

And this? This is the vision I’ll have of him on my death bed. The look he gives me when he comes into the room? I’ve never seen that look before. Never. It’s more than adoration. More than worship. More than awe. We own each other. In this very moment, I know we will own each other forever.

Not to mention, he looks delicious. That coach’s polo hugs his sweaty body in all the right places. His rippled arms are still carrying sunburn across every corded muscle. His jeans are slung low on his hips, and his sweaty blond curls peek from beneath his ballcap. There’s even a piece of grass stuck to his cheek.

And then he kisses me.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I say back.

“Can I make a request for the birth of our next child?”

“Next child?” I snort. “Can we make it through the birth of this child first?”

He completely ignores that comment. “Promise you’ll never put football ahead of our family. You do that, and I’ll do the same.”

I nibble on my lip. “But you were down by a touchdown. I figured we had time.”

“It’s just a game.” He kisses me again, sucking my bottom lip between his. “You’re my life.”

I wish I could soak up more of the moment, but a contraction hits. Hard.

Shit. This hurts.

Holt grabs my hand, holding it tight. As soon as it passes, Raylee jumps up, offering me ice chips. By now, everyone else is filtering in, and my delivery room has more people in it than a discoteque.

“What’s going on? What’d the doctor say?”

Ridge speaks up from the corner of the room. He’s already changed shirts. One of the nurses gave him a scrub top. Really, I think she just wanted to watch him take his shirt off. “She’s already at seven centimeters. It happened really fast. Doc’s surprised since this is her first.”

Holt lifts an eyebrow in good humor. “Something you’re not telling me?”

I scowl. “Yeah, you and your super sperm are taking a long hiatus after this.”

He just laughs. “Epidural?”

Raylee nods. “She requested it. We’re just waiting on the anesthesiologist to come in to administer it.”

I reach out for Holt’s arm, but my IV catches in the bedsheets, pulling the needle at a weird angle. “Ouch.”

He gently untangles the cords. “What do you need, baby? Tell me what to do.”

“You need to give Ridge some money,” I whisper.

His nose scrunches, making his freckles jump. “I do?”

By the time I got out of the truck, Ridge’s tan leather seats were tinged pink, covered in fluid and blood and mucous. I point to my crotch, safely hidden under the stiff hospital sheets. “ Stuff got all over his seats. We need to pay to have it cleaned.”

He just smiles and nods. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

Knowing Holt, he’ll probably try to buy his best friend a whole new truck.

“Mom and Daddy? Granny?”

“I’ve talked to them. Their bags were already packed, so they just tossed them in and got on the road. They’re driving as fast as they can.”

“Holt,” Crutch peeks into the room, interrupting us, “he’s here.”

“Who’s here?”

Holt ignores me again. “We’re ready for him. Bring him in.”

“We’re ready for who?” I ask.

When Pastor Clark walks into my hospital room, I’m completely shocked. Why on earth is the football team chaplain here?

Holy crap. Am I dying? What if something is wrong, and they aren’t telling me because they’re afraid I’ll flip out.

My voice catches in my throat, suffocating me. Sweat breaks out on my brow. “Pastor Clark? Am I dying?”

He holds the Bible in front of his chest and gifts me a comforting smile. “Of course, not.” His grin shifts, and his eyes dance. “Now, who’s ready to get married?”

What a stupid question.