Page 64 of With A Little Luck

Ridge

T he bond is a gift when Quincy doesn’t feel like speaking, and this contraction means business. Dr. Lindsay wasn’t joking when she mentioned Quincy could walk around dilated for several weeks. Today marks thirty-eight weeks and five days, and I’d bet my left nut that this is active labor.

Not that I’m particularly fond of my balls at the moment. First of all, they get shooting pains every single time a contraction ravages the bond. And secondly, they’re at least partially responsible for the pain Quincy is now experiencing every five minutes.

Her nails dig into my forearm, and she stops dead in her tracks on the way to the bathroom. She groans, swaying from side to side.

Dammit.

I’d do just about anything to be able to trade places with her. “Can I help in any way?”

“By not talking,” she grumbles. “Let’s just have quiet time for right now.”

I nod.

Message received, loud and clear.

Today has been brutal.

She’s thrown up twice and dealt with a stomach ache on and off all afternoon, but the mild discomfort ramped up to significant pain once the sun went down.

“Car is packed,” Hart says, jogging into the room. “Trigg called the office to let them know the contractions are coming?—”

“We’re all being quiet while I breathe through the pain,” Quincy hisses.

I nod like a total suck up, and Hart shoots me a what the hell ? kinda look. Yeah, I probably should have warned him, but then I would have been the one who got in trouble.

I’m already at the top of her shit list because I’m the one who impregnated her.

“Okay, let’s go,” Quincy says as the contraction starts to ease. “I have to pee so bad, which makes no sense since I peed two contractions ago.”

“It’s okay, Mama. The baby books said this would happen due to all the pressure down there.” I help her waddle to the bathroom and say a prayer that she doesn’t hate me after giving birth.

Trigg maintains a level of calm that I’m extremely envious of. It feels like the world is on fire, and I really wish Quincy would just say enough is enough and get the fucking epidural.

I keep my mouth firmly closed about that because it’s her body, but it’s eating away at my soul to watch her suffer.

Hartley stands behind her as she bounces on the birthing ball, and I pace the floor bare. The nurse has been in and out, but she pops back in, rubbing her hands together with what I assume is hand sanitizer.

She moves to grab gloves and smiles at Quincy. “How are we doing? Baby’s heart rate looks good on the portable monitors?—”

“I’d like to be checked, please,” Quincy says, nodding. “I changed my mind. I want an epidural if I can still get it.”

“I’m happy to check you,” the nurse says. “I do want to mention that if you get the epidural, you have to stay in bed. It’s for safety reasons, but it’s hard to be up moving around with a catheter, anyway.”

Why the hell is she trying to talk Quincy out of the epidural? Okay, maybe she’s just giving her the information, but I have to fight the urge to shush her.

Give my woman the good drugs.

Trigg strides over and squats down in front of Quincy. “Can I help you up, love?”

“Yep, and let’s move fast,” Quincy says. “I really don’t want to miss the window for the epidural.”

Oh, thank God .

“Are you doing okay, Dad?” the new nurse asks me as Quincy pushes through another contraction.

“Yeah, I’m solid.” I’ve got hold of her left leg while Trigg manages the right. That psychopath has not looked away from the danger zone once, but I’m trying to split my attention between Quincy’s face and what’s going on down there.

“Okay, take a seat if that changes,” the first nurse says. “It’s always the big guys who hit the floor, and we aren’t going to leave Mom to help you.”

Well, that’s a good thing.

Their focus should be on her.

“You’re doing great, Quincy,” Dr. Lindsay says.

“You really are,” Hart chokes out. He’s up by Quincy’s head, holding her hand. From how white his knuckles are, I’m going to guess she’s squeezing the ever-loving shit out of him.

The contraction slowly dissipates, and Quincy’s head falls back against the hospital bed. She’s exhausted, but in much better spirits since the epidural. She labored all night and through the morning. It’s almost four in the afternoon, and none of us has slept.

I’m running on pure adrenaline, but the bond says Quincy is beat. Every time I think the baby’s head is about to pop out, it scoots back in. I also read first-time moms sometimes push for hours, so I think she’s crushing this whole giving-birth thing.

Several more pushes produce limited results, but there is a little more progress, even if it’s a small amount.

It’s baffling to me how Trigg can watch without glancing away. I peek when the exciting stuff is happening, but it feels rude to stare. Everything is swollen and bloody, and it looks painful as fuck.

I’d get shot all over again if it meant Quincy didn’t have to go through this.

The only thing keeping me going is knowing we’ll meet our daughter soon.

Guilt still threatens to eat me alive, though.

Not only did she spend eight months doing everything alone, but now every bit of this is on her shoulders as well.

Another contraction begins, and Quincy’s face turns red as she pushes.

“That’s it, Quincy. Just like that,” Dr. Lindsay says. “You’re doing great.”

My jaw falls as the baby’s head pops out, turning to the side. She has a head full of dark hair, just like me and Quincy. She’s also bloody and gooey, but Dr. Lindsay pats around her head.

Everything becomes background noise, and on the next contraction, the baby’s shoulders pop out.

My eyes fly from the baby to Quincy, but Hartley cradles her cheeks in his hands as he whispers something. I’m so out of it that I can’t make out whatever he said.

It feels like I’m in a tunnel.

“Don’t pass out. I won’t be able to save you,” Trigg says, giving me a serious look.

The doctor places the baby on Quincy’s chest to clean her off, and I’m so distracted that I ignore the nurse the first time she speaks.

“I can take over here,” she says again. “Go check on your wife and daughter.”

“Thanks,” I say as the baby starts to wail.

My knees shake at the sound. That’s a good sign, right?

I’m out of it as I stagger the few feet to Quincy’s head.

“I’m so proud of you,” I choke out and promptly burst into tears.

Hartley holds his phone, taking pictures.

Trigg appears on her other side, and he doesn’t hesitate to stretch out a hand to pat the baby’s back.

My system is too overloaded to know what to do or who to focus on, but I’m just thankful I haven’t passed out.

Leaning over the railing, I run my fingers over Quincy’s cheek. “I love you so fucking much. Can you believe it? We made a whole tiny person.”

She laughs, even though she looks exhausted. “Love you too, but for the record, she didn’t feel tiny. Do giant heads run in your family?”

I bark a laugh.

Yeah, now that I think about it, they probably do.

I’m really fucking lucky that Trigg is an unrepentant stalker. I never would have recovered from missing this.

There are very few times when I wish we had a fourth guy in our pack, but it would make splitting shifts easier.

Trigg cuts the umbilical cord, and he and Hartley accompany the baby to the nursery while I stay with Quincy.

The way this hospital is set up, if you opt for a birthing nest, you have to swap to a different room after giving birth. Quincy didn’t want to go that route, meaning we get to stay in the same room for the rest of her postpartum stay.

I wonder if they’ll refund me the difference since we didn’t end up using one of the nests? Damn. Maybe Easton is right. I am cheap.

Quincy’s first trip to the bathroom is rough, but the massaging of her stomach that the nurse does after might actually be worse. Her pain filters through the bond, and it’s at contraction levels.

The nurse gives Quincy her pain meds, asks her a bunch of questions, and finally leaves.

I hover near the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say or what to do.

Quincy reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Cuddle with me?”

Nodding, I lower the bed rail and climb onto the bed next to her. It’s a slow process because I’m terrified of hurting her, but once I get settled, she scoots over and rests her head on my chest.

“How are you?” I ask, my voice coming out weirdly raspy.

She laughs weakly. “I’m hanging in there. What I really need is for Hart and Trigg to bring the baby back. I hate having her out of my line of sight.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But at least we know they’ve got her. Have any opinions on names yet?”

“Maybe.”

I tilt my head down, kissing her forehead. “Oh yeah? I’m all ears.”

She shrugs. “I was really stuck on Valley for a while, but Ridge and Valley… I’m not sure that would work, especially if we have more kids. I found Camdyn the other night, and it also means valley without being so blatant about it, but I like Meadow too.”

My heart races. “So you don’t hate me and would possibly be open to having more kids one day?”

“Of course I don’t hate you.” She slaps my chest. “I love you, even when you’re being a pain in the ass. And I don’t know. I mean, give me more than two hours to recover from the last kid, but yeah, I think I’d be open to having more children.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” I break out into a wicked grin. “Well, in that case, I’m down with whatever name you like best. Camdyn is adorable. Cam makes for a great nickname. Meadow is sweet. It would be fitting.”

Basically, this goes back to not being able to deny her anything. She just pushed out an eight-pound, twenty-inch baby with my eyes and Quincy’s nose. I’d give her legitimately anything she asked for.

“Camdyn is perfect,” she whispers.

I’m still not sure what I did in life to deserve her, but I’m really fucking grateful for the universe’s mistake.