Page 43 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

My parents step out of the way, and I don’t even give them a backwards glance as we carefully walk back the way we came. They don’t deserve it, and I hope they abide by Bambi’s demands, and we never have to see them again.

Bambi’s grip on my hand is like a vice as we reach the truck, and I gently lift her in. The wet spot on her pants has grown and I hope that’s normal.

“I’m going to grab the hospital bag from inside then we’ll leave. Okay?”

Bambi nods and breathes like we’ve practiced. I gently shut the passenger door and run inside to grab the hospital go bag we packed weeks ago, sitting ready and waiting by the front door. Just in case I also grab a full jar of pickles from the fridge.

The entire drive to the hospital I speak loving reassurances to her and keep one hand on her stomach, hers resting on top of mine. I can feel something going on inside her belly, and the anticipation of meeting my son has heat burning the back of my eyes.

By the time we arrive at the hospital I’m breathing heavier than Bambi is. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain yet, I don’t think. There’s an expression on her face, and I can’t quite decipher if it’s pain or worry.

“Is everything okay?”

Pinched worried eyes turn to face me but relax the moment she notices my own concern.

“Oh, yeah everything is fine. I’m just…”

“Freaked the fuck out?” I suggest, because it’s what I’m feeling right now.

“Yeah, you could say that. By this time tomorrow we’ll be parents. We’ll have another living being to take care of and I’m worried I’m going to do something wrong. All the reading in the world can’t prepare you for the reality of taking care of a baby.”

“You’re going to be a perfect mom, Bambi. If anyone is going to fuck up it’s going to be me and I’m going to need you there to keep me in line.”

She cracks a small smile and looks down at her stomach, cradling it affectionately. I try to reassure her with a soft squeeze of her hand. She instantly laces her fingers through mine and rests both our hands on her belly.

“Everything is going to be fine. It won’t be easy and it sure as hell won’t be perfect by societal standards, but it’ll be perfect for us. Every moment of it will be amazing and we’ll both be there for it all. You hear me?” She looks up at me and graces me with a small, sweet, loving smile.

“Yeah, I hear you,” she answers.

“Good. Now remind me, which end does the baby come out of again?”

Bambi laughs and I can see her shoulders visibly relax, which is a good thing because if all labor is like the one I watched, this isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to hurt like hell, and I plan on being by her side every fucking minute of it.

We make it into the hospital without any contractions starting but as soon as she’s hooked up and in one of those hospital gowns in a room, the first one hits.

Bambi’s scream has me on the verge of needing my own sedative.

Her grip on my hand is tighter than any rope I’ve ever tied, and I begin profusely apologizing because I know this is at least half my fault.

The contractions continue on schedule, increasing in frequency and intensity just like the books said they would. When the time comes, we opt for an epidural and Bambi’s pain eases but doesn’t subside completely.

Before I know it, hours have passed, and the doctor tells me it’s time to push. I get into my position at Bambi’s side and hold her hand with mine while rubbing her back with the other.

Labor is loud and messy, and I don’t even consider looking between her legs for fear I may pass out.

I don’t know how women do it. If it were left up to men to give birth our species would have died out a long time ago, because none of us would have the mental and physical ability to do what Bambi is doing right now.

I coach her breathing like we practiced and wipe the sweat from her forehead with a cold cloth. With one last command from the doctor Bambi screams and bears down and just like that it’s over. One second, we’re just Warren and Bambi the next, we’re parents and Noah’s cry fills the room.

All sound other than his cry evaporates, every movement other than the nurse cleaning his tiny body disappears. There’s no one else besides the three of us in the world at this moment.

My attention is drawn from the nurse holding Noah to the doctor handing me a pair of scissors and telling me to cut. I take them and cut the clamped umbilical cord and watch every movement of our son while still holding Bambi’s hand.

The doctor finishes cleaning and stitching Bambi but we’re both focused on the crying baby being wrapped in cloth and brought back to us.

The nurse immediately lays him on Bambi’s chest, and she bursts into tears that have nothing to do with the pain of labor.

His tiny hands fist and eyes squint trying to focus in the bright light of the hospital.

“He’s perfect,” she coos, caressing his pink pudgy cheek.

“You’re both perfect,” I correct.

She looks up at me and the world feels right for the first time in my entire life. Watching the love of my life holding my purpose in life, my heart swells like a sail caught in a squall. Filling to near bursting in record speed, pulling me in the right direction.

~

Nearly fifteen hours after her water breaking, Bambi sleeps peacefully in the hospital bed, completely beat from labor.

In my arms rests the tiniest little person I’ve ever seen.

A small blue knit cap on his head where strands of dark hair poke out.

His face is squished and wrinkly and if his eyes were open, they would be a beautiful shade of gold like his mothers.

I gently rock in the rocking chair next to Bambi’s bed soothing the sleeping baby in my arms. Noah’s barely been in the basinet they provided because neither of us could give up holding him.

He fits comfortably in one of my arms, the tattoos dark and colorful surrounding him.

My heart skips a beat when he gurgles and twitches in his sleep.

“You don’t know this, but you’ve changed everything. If it weren’t for you, I may have missed out on the best thing in my life. Well, things now.”

I brush a fingertip over his scrunched nose and marvel at the person we made.

He may have been an accident or unintentional, but he was never a mistake.

He’s perfect and so is his mother. I look over at her fast asleep with her red ponytail all messed up and her mouth slightly open as she breathes deeply.

I don’t know how I could have ever thought I didn’t want this.

I know I was afraid that I might be like my father.

That having a family meant losing myself and falling to the bottle like he did.

Now I know that was his choice, and mine will be different.

I choose to be better, to accept the love of the woman of my dreams and to give as much love as I possess to our son.

The anger and scars I have from my childhood will never truly disappear, but I can move on from the hatred and learn from his mistakes. I have no doubt there will be times I suck at being a dad, but I won’t blame our son for that, and I won’t let it dictate the future.

“I promise I’ll never blame you for my shortcomings.

You’re going to have so much love you won’t know what to do with it all,” I whisper down to my son in my arms. “Things are going to be different for you. We’re going to laugh and play and as soon as your mother is willing, we’ll give you a sibling to love and play with too. Maybe more than one.”

“I heard that,” Bambi mutters sleepily. I look up to find her eyes half open and watching us.

“Do you disagree?” I ask and she smirks.

“No. But I’m not sure how well we’ll all fit in our two-bedroom apartment.”

“We’ll fit, don’t worry about that.”

She giggles and then winces, rubbing low on her abdomen.

“Sore? Do you need a nurse?”

“No, I’m fine. I just can’t laugh yet. I think I just peed myself. At least I hope that was pee.”

I stare wide eyed at her, mentally flipping through all the books I read about childbirth and the possible aftereffects. Bambi reaches out and pats my arm not holding Noah.

“It’s fine relax, I was joking. Nothing is wrong. The doctor and nurses said everything went as it should.”

I exhale a deep breath, relieved to know nothing went wrong with her health during labor.

“That’s not a very funny joke,” I chide, but only half-heartedly.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” she mutters. I scowl. “How is he? Still sleeping?”

“Like a log. Hopefully that’s a good omen for the future. All the books said to be prepared for many sleepless nights in the beginning. Maybe we got lucky.”

Bambi pushes herself higher up on the inclined bed and as soon as she’s settled, I reach over and place a kiss to her cheek. Her hair sticks up in every direction and she’s still a little sticky with sweat, but she’s perfectly beautiful to me.

“I think we’re lucky,” she says with a soft smile.

“I think so too.”

I know we’re not talking about Noah’s sleep schedule anymore.

I’ve felt lucky since that first night on my boat when she had more courage than me to kiss me first. If it weren’t for that night, my life would be on a completely different path right now, the wrong path.

I internally shudder considering I could have lived a life without ever truly loving.

A life without Bambi or Noah. A half-life always missing the most important piece.

“Get some more sleep, love. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll watch over you both.”

She nods, already slipping back into sleep. I tuck the blanket up around her neck and press another kiss to her forehead, Noah still fast asleep in my arms. My perfect little family.