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One thing was for sure, with Nathaniel Graystone at her side, it would be one heck of a ride.
EPILOGUE
TESS let out a low groan as the pain gripped her abdomen, then panted through the agonising wave that followed and counted it down.
Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds...
She lay rigid on the bed, her fingers curling into a death grip on the sheet waiting for the wave to pass. Once it finally dimmed and released her from its grip, she gave an exhausted sigh before lifting the watch on the nightstand.
Nearly a minute long and a lot less than ten minutes apart. She caressed the huge mound of her belly and turned to stare at Nate. His handsome face looked peaceful and content in the moonlight as he lay on his stomach snoring gently beside her.
She glanced down at her bump. ‘Okay, Junior,’ she whispered into the darkness. ‘I think it’s time we woke Daddy.’ She shifted over trying and failing to relieve the now constant discomfort in her lower back. ‘But be prepared for fireworks.’
Reaching out, she pressed a hand to Nate’s broad shoulder and gave him a firm shove. ‘Nate, wake up. It’s party time.’
His eyelids drifted up, his sleepy gaze unfocused. ‘Huh? What?’
‘I’m in labour. We should probably go to the hospital.’
The quietly spoken words had his eyes snapping open the rest of the way, and his now laser-sharp gaze shooting down to her belly. ‘But you’re not due for another week,’ he said, jerking upright in the bed as if he’d just been prodded with a hot poker. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Pretty sure.’ She grinned at the raw note of confusion and terror. ‘I’ve been having regular contractions for four hours and they’re less than ten minutes apart now and getting stronger.’
‘Four hours!’ he shouted. ‘What the...?’ Leaping out of bed, he began swearing under his breath as he raced around the bedroom gathering up his clothes and struggling into them at breakneck speed. ‘Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?’ he cried, sending her a dark frown when she let out an exhausted chuckle.
‘Because I knew you’d freak out, and there wasn’t anything you could do.’ She let her lips curve, despite the cramping pain already radiating up her back and signalling another contraction. ‘Duh?’ she added.
‘It’s not funny.’ He stood in the middle of the room, raking his hair back as he glanced around, frantically searching for something. ‘You are in big trouble, lady...’ The threat trailed off as he swore again. ‘Where’s your case? I thought we had it right here.’
‘It’s under the bed,’ she said, but the information was followed by a loud moan as the pain seized her abdomen, building to a crescendo.
She watched Nate’s expression go from aggravated to concerned as he rushed back across the room. Gripping her hands, he kissed the knuckles while she panted, desperately trying to relieve the agony that just kept building.
‘Keep breathing. You’re doing great,’ he said.
She let out a strangled cry, the agony refusing to subside this time. ‘I can’t...’ She groaned through the ragged pants. ‘It hurts too much.’
‘Yell if you want,’ he said, his presence the only solid thing in the maelstrom of pain. ‘It’s nearly over.’ The encouraging words, and the intense emotion in his gaze, gave her the courage she needed. She clung onto his hands, her nails cutting into his palms as she cried out and rode the wave to the finish.
The cramping vice released her at last, and she flopped back against the pillows. ‘Ow, that really hurt!’ she said weakly, a little shell-shocked by how hard the contraction had hit that time.
Resting his palm on the side of her face, he brushed the damp tendrils of hair back. ‘You were magnificent,’ he said, then pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss.
He pulled back, and she gulped down the swell of emotion at the reverence in his gaze.
‘I may have to remind you of that next time we have an argument,’ she murmured.
He chuckled, getting off the bed. ‘What are you talking about?’ he said, the feigned innocence making her choke out a laugh. ‘We never argue, honey.’
As if.
She grinned as he located the suitcase she had packed over a week ago under the bed and placed it firmly on the coverlet.
‘Yeah, right,’ she scoffed.
They didn’t just argue, they argued a lot. She suspected more than most couples. But then that was probably because they enjoyed it. They were both strong-willed people who had opinions that they weren’t scared to voice—about everything from baby names to the ultimate pizza topping. Not to mention the important stuff. After a few solid months of co-habitation, Nate had only stopped hassling her about investing in her business so he could start hassling her about when she was finally going to make good on her promise to marry him. There had been a fair few fireworks on that topic only two days ago, when he’d laid down the law and insisted on them setting a date in June—and after much deliberation, and even some yelling, she’d finally managed to push the date back to August, on the grounds that it would give her at least some hope of losing the two tons in weight she’d put on in the last month.
But she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She appreciated their rocky moments as much as their smooth ones, because their passion for fireworks had helped to strengthen their relationship. They’d learned to respect each other’s differences, to share each other’s triumphs and to lean on each other when they needed support. They weren’t perfect, but they were willing to confront any issue to make this relationship work. They’d discovered how to compromise and negotiate and on those rare occasions when shouting was involved there was always the promise of great make-up sex when the shouting stopped.
