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He winked. "Don't worry. Not many people do."
Before he could get her up fully, however, another contraction hit. Still holding her hand when she cried out, Raith hissed as she attempted to squeeze his fingers off.
"Jesus," he said and tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let go. She sobbed harder and looked scared to death by the time the pain passed.
"I want Dylan," she bawled.
"It's okay," he murmured and smoothed his hand over her hair, unconsciously calming the locks that had become frazzled. "Don't cry. I'll get him for you. Put your arms around my neck for now, though, and I'll carry you to where we need to go."
Shaking her head, Willow's cousin stared up at him with a pair of wide blue eyes. The poor girl was frightened to death.
"I'm too heavy," she croaked, looking absolutely mortified.
Raith chuckled. "Honey, you can't weigh but a buck twenty-five and that's as pregnant as you are. I can carry you, no problem."
But the stubborn woman only bit her bottom lip. "I'll get you all wet. You know what that is, right? My water broke."
He'd had his suspicions, but she didn't need to go and verbalize it. Ignoring the fact he'd have that stuff drenching his clothes, he took the woman's chin and looked her directly in the eye.
"Camille," he commanded. "Put your arms around my neck. Now."
She did so without further complaint. He hefted her into his arms and moved past the checkout registers toward the front
doors before she spoke again.
"That's exactly something Willow would've done, you know," she murmured thoughtfully and then shocked the stuffing out of him when she rested her head on his shoulder. "You bossing me around back there; it reminded me of her."
"Just be glad you got me instead of DeVane," he answered. "I doubt she'd be able to carry you so easily."
Camille Taggart lifted her face and sent him a surprised look. "You call her by her last name too."
Raith opened his mouth but didn't have the opportunity to answer, which was just as well. He wasn't too sure what he would've said. Instead, her eyes went huge and her arms tightened around his neck, damn near choking him. Face turning purple, he tried not to pass out and drop her, and gratefully sucked in air as soon as her contraction passed.
"God, I feel like such an idiot," she wailed, burying her face into his collar.
"It happens," Raith commented and then muttered, "Thank God," when he heard the sound of an ambulance blaring down the street toward them.
"I'd been having pains all morning," Camille went on, lamenting her predicament. "But the baby isn't due for another three weeks. I just thought it was a false alarm. So I went grocery shopping and all of a sudden the Atlantic flooded out around my ankles right in the middle of the frozen food section, and the pain came so fast, I just... I couldn't stop it."
Raith carried her toward the approaching vehicle. As it stopped in front of them, he turned his attention back to her. "Looks like your ride's here, Mrs. Taggart." He set her gently on the stretcher two paramedics had readied. But as soon as he tried to release her, she grasped his arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" she said in a panic. "Don't you dare leave me."
"Uh..." he sputtered, not wanting her to strangle him again. "Mrs. Taggart, I don't think—"
She tightened her grip. "You get my cousin pregnant, you can God damn keep calling me Camille." When another contraction began, she wrapped her second hand around his forearm. "And you're not leaving until Dylan or someone in my family gets here." Then she gripped him tight and groaned out an ungodly sound of pain and anger.
So Raith decided to stay with her all the way to the hospital and into the maternity ward. He held her hand, and they both winced every time a contraction hit. Afterward, he mopped her sweaty brow dry. Then, without fail, she asked for her husband. And every time, Raith would answer, "He's on his way," which seemed to relax her.
He almost hugged Dylan Taggart when the man finally blew into the delivery room, twenty minutes later.
"Camille," he gasped, hurrying to her and pressing his hand to her stomach.
Raith immediately stepped back and muttered, "About freaking time."
"I'm okay," Camille assured her husband, taking his hands and
bringing them to her mouth for a kiss.
