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He drew his fingers back very slowly from between my legs, careful of my tender skin. I gasped a little as a myriad of sensation assailed me, and he winced. “I didn’t want to hurt you and was waiting for you to let go. Do you have a grab bag?”
“A bag— ohhh.” I grunted a seriously unsexy sound as my stomach clenched again. Pain radiated around my lower back. “Damn, you’re right. I should have peed earlier.”
“Then go pee. I’ll help if you need. Then I think you need to go to the hospital.”
“Why?” I gasped as the next contraction grabbed me and refused to let go. Wait. Contraction. “Shit. You think?”
“Yeah. I think. Need help getting to that toilet?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” I shoved upward, my stomach hard as hell. Then it let go and I sagged a little, finding my feet in a puddle where my dress dripped on me. “What the hell?”
My brain knew what was happening, it just hadn’t bothered to communicate with my mouth yet. Not that I blamed it. I was in a state of shock myself. I began counting days and came up with thirty-eight weeks and six days.
“Yeah, I can tell you’re fine.” Ruski shook his head, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the ensuite, helping bundle my sundress over my head and wrapped me in a towel. I instantly overheated but used the thing for cover as my overextended bladder released, patting my thighs and legs down. “Do you want to shower?”
“Might be a good—” I winced, counting and made it to thirty. “Idea?”
“Mhhm.”
“How do you know so much about birth?” I wiggled around my bump, steadying myself against the edge of the toilet and headed for the shower, still counting. If I could just get in there— Ioomphedwith the next contraction, my numbers muddling with someone else’s. “Please count in your head.”
“Sorry.” Ruski grinned, contrite, and flicked the shower on for me. “Bag, Abby.”
“Already in the car out back. Caleb has it all sorted.”
“Then I’ll get the keys from him. Got an obstetrician or anyone on call?”
“I don’t technically exist, unless the boys made up a fake license and medical records for me last night. I doubt it.” I stepped under the warm water, glad of the relief and feeling of cleanliness it gave me.
The contractions eased for a minute, though they were back in force by the time I stepped out into a fresh, fluffy towel Ruski must have magicked out of thin air.
It turned out the boyshadmade me up a new profile, and I suddenly existed on a whole lot of servers I’d never been on before, which made the trip to hospital a whole lot less concerning.
The entire household was awake by the time the boys walked me down the back stairs, one meager step at a time accompanied by a whole lot of sounds I doubted I’d made before. Cheri gripped one hand, Analise on my other side, while Chrissy made call after call to the hospital preceding my arrival.
Caleb clung to his keys, Cheri bitching at him as she slipped into the back seat behind him. Ruski took up position behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders as he kept up a constant chatter in my ear.
By the time we hit the city proper, Caleb had enough. “Don’t you ever fucking shut up, Russia?”
I waved a hand, pushing sweat back off my neck despite the air con running flat out in the car. “It’s okay. I like it.”
Caleb and Cheri argued the rest of the way.
I leaned my cheek onto Ruski's rough knuckles, resting there as he counted with me.
“They're getting closer, huh?” he murmured, leaning around to press a kiss to my cheek. “I don’t think I kissed you good morning.”
“Might have to wait on that one,” I whispered between huffs. “This is so undignified.”
“You betcha, girlie. Ignore the boys and do what your body wants.” Cheri began to whistle tunelessly in the back seat.
I giggled, though that didn’t last long as what my body wanted, apparently, was to have a baby. An hour after arriving at Cairns hospital, I held a tiny baby to my chest, his mouth working to get milk while I prayed my body would react to the tiny human clamped on and viciously gumming and sucking. Finally, the milk flowed, and he drank, nuzzling my body as tears rolled down my cheeks.
Ryker Kai Tran.
It was the only name that floated around in my mind. The nurses teased me about the dark-haired Russian waiting outside until I gave the details of the late father—Ryker, they’d only take one name, naturally. Then they let me be, resolving that my son would know everything I did about his fathers and how brave they’d both been. And boisterous. And enigmatic, dramatic, and loving.
Most of all, caring, loving protectors.
