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“We have to go. Now!” Harris lifted me into his arms like I didn’t weigh any more than our daughter and carried me out to the last car in the driveway. “Who’s is this?”
“Mine,” Lana called as she jogged after us. “Put her in the back. I’ll drive.”
“We’re coming too.” Mom jumped in beside me from the other side, and Nat took
the front passenger seat.
“I’ll take care of everything here,” Aunt Emmie promised. “We’ll meet you at the hospital in an hour or two.”
“Wait until Jess gets back from ice cream with Hayat,” Mom practically begged. “If he’s there, he’s going to freak out until the baby is born. Just let him have a little more peace before he finds out.”
“You got it. Be careful. Good luck, Lucy!”
Two hours later, our son was put into my arms, screaming angrily at the world for being pulled out into reality. My entire body ached, not a single muscle wasn’t protesting, but I’d never felt so good in my life. Tears poured from my eyes as I kissed the top of his head, my fingers trembling as I played with the dark curls that matched those his sister had been born with.
“Looks like we’re going to have a little MMA superstar if Dev and Jesse get their way,” Nat teased in a soft voice as she and Mom stood on one side of me. “Or another generation of drummers.”
Harris stroked his hand down our son’s back. “I don’t care what he does. I’m just glad he’s here and healthy.”
The door to my room flew open, and Dad stormed in. “Why didn’t someone fucking call me?” he raged, only to stop in his tracks when he spotted his grandson lying across my chest. “Holy fuck. He’s here.” He crossed to the bed, and Mom and Nat quickly got out of his way. His hand shook as he pushed a few of my curls back from my sweaty face. “Are you okay, Lu?”
“I’m okay, Daddy,” I assured him with a tired smile.
He glared over at Mom and Nat. “Someone should have called me when you went into labor.”
“But you were taking care of Hayat,” I reasoned. “We figured you had the hardest job and didn’t want to bother you.”
“You still should have called,” he complained.
“I will next time, Daddy. I promise.”
“Next time?” He blanched. “How many more times are you going to do this to me, Lu?”
I gazed down at the perfection that was my son. The dark curls, those lady-killer dimples that were already breaking my heart as he snuffled around my chest hungrily. He looked just like Hayat, who was the perfect combination of Harris and me. Seeing this miracle we had created together, I completely forgot how uncomfortable I’d been in the last few weeks, how painful it had been to push him into the world.
“A few more at least.”
“Fuck,” Dad groaned.
One of the nurses who was monitoring me while the doctor made notations on his chart about the delivery spoke up from across the room. “Do we have a name to put on his chart?”
“Evan,” Harris answered, his gaze finding mine.
I smiled. “Evan Michael Cutter.”
Mom and Nat let out dreamy sighs. “Oh, I love that,” Nat gushed.
It was hours later before the grandparents left, along with the entire waiting room full of family members. I was so exhausted, my eyes wouldn’t stay open, but I couldn’t turn my brain off long enough to find sleep.
“Come hold me,” I pleaded with Harris, who was camped out in the recliner beside my bed answering all the texts from our friends who hadn’t been able to make it to the hospital or the party earlier that day.
He dropped his phone on the rolling table without hesitation and came to lie on the bed beside me. I pillowed my head on his shoulder and snuggled as deeply into him as I possibly could. “You okay now?” I asked.
He blew out a long breath. “I should be asking you that, sweetness. You’re the one who just gave birth to my behemoth of a son without a single drop of pain relief.”
“You were upset earlier.”
“I hate seeing you in pain,” he grumbled, his hands stroking over my hair. “It’s hard to watch that and feel helpless to do anything but stand there.”
