Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(84)

When it passed, I flopped back on the bed, my awareness returning in tendrils. “It hurts,” I moaned.

His face was dark with worry. “Can you turn this thing up?” he asked the nurse.

“Of course,” she said, stepping to the epidural drip to fiddle with it. “There. That should help.”

My hand darted out, snagging the nurse’s wrist. “I don’t want anyone in here but Theo.”

Her face softened, and she patted my hand. “I’ll go intercept your mom.”

“Thank you,” I said, relieved as she left.

Theo’s hands were in my hair again, gathering it up, twisting it into a fresh bun with more ease than I’d figure a man of his stature and experience would possess.

“Lean up,” he commanded, helping me to sit. He hitched a leg to half-sit so he could press his thumbs to the aching muscles low on my back.

I grabbed the empty stirrups with my hands and groaned.

He’d shucked off his coat, his tie gone. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, that button at the top undone. And his face was cool and confident as always. But his dark eyes were laden with concern.

Dr. Stout rushed in, smiling. “Looks like we’re having a baby,” she said as she approached.

“Oh, thank God. Can I push now?” I asked pitifully.

She chuckled. “I think so. Let’s see how we’re looking. Come on, feet up, Katherine.”

Theo moved out of the way so I could lie back just as another contraction came. I grabbed his hand, curling in on myself.

“Hold on, don’t push yet,” she said as she examined me. “She’s ready. Next contraction, we’re going to go for it, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” I hummed through pursed lips.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured.

“The epidural’s not working,” I half-sobbed.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Stout said with a comforting smile. “You’re almost there.”

“That isn’t really what I wanted to hear.”

“I promise, when your baby’s here in a few minutes, you’ll forget all about it.”

“Doubtful,” I snarked.

“Trust me, if we didn’t forget all this, we’d never have a second baby.”

I looked up at Theo, and he looked down at me.

“A few minutes,” he said. “A few more minutes, and she’ll be here.”

Tears surged out of nowhere. “I…Theo, I…I need to tell you…” The words died in my throat. It was too much all at once—the months of waiting, the depth of change, the realization of my feelings. The birth of our child. The look in his eyes. The ache of my heart.

But it was all cut short by that climbing sting of another contraction, my lungs locking.

“All right,” Dr. Stout said, nodding to the nurses.

They abandoned their tasks of readying the incubator and supplies to come to her side.

“Theo, grab her leg. Show him how, Jenny.”

Jenny wrapped her arm around the inside of my calf, offering cursory instructions as she took my hand with her free one. Theo mirrored her.

“Okay, Katherine. Push.”

I bore down, my face pinching closed, my awareness shrinking to a pinpoint of pain as I flexed my abdomen from the top and pushed, bracing against the stirrups and the arms around my legs.

“Breathe,” Dr. Stout directed, but I couldn’t, not until I’d exhausted my strength.

I sucked in a breath and did it again, lips curling and chin tucking.

“She’s got a full head of hair,” the doctor said with a smile.

“I bet it’s dark,” Theo said to me. “I bet she looks just like you.”

The contraction was over, but I couldn’t speak, didn’t lie back. My hospital gown was hitched up to the bend in my thighs, my vagina on display to the handful of people in the room, including Theo. I couldn’t even find it in me to be embarrassed.

“Okay, here comes another one,” she said. “Ready?”

I nodded, my vision dimming. I closed my eyes against it.

I knew when to push before she said it, the hyperawareness of every muscle engaged, the sensation of my body opening up overwhelming, the panic of knowing there was a human lodged in the exit maddening. I wanted her out. I wanted her out now.

So I pushed as hard and efficiently as I could.

“I’ve got her head!”

The panic rose higher, knowing I had another push but unable to swallow the logic. “Get her out!” I wailed, wild-eyed.

“One more push,” she assured me. “Get ready.”

I swiveled to look at Theo, who wore a peaceful expression.

“She’s stuck,” I choked.

“She’s fine, Kate. She’s perfect. Come on. One more, and she’s here.”

I sobbed, shifting to get myself ready, gripping their hands with slick palms, closing my eyes as the slow burn slipped over my aching belly once more.

And then I pushed.

I felt everything, felt her leave my body, felt the instant relief and alarming emptiness. Collapsed back on the bed. Heard her cry. My cheeks were cool. His lips were warm against them. His hands were strong and trembling as he touched my face. His words were soft and soothing as he whispered to me that I’d done it.