Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(69)

“Back to the waiting room.” I indicated with my thumb over my shoulder, my stomach now mildly unsettled for no reason. “Sandra brought food. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah . . .” He scratched his neck, contemplating me. Giving me the impression he’d just decided something, Dan took two steps forward. But then the buzzing of our cell phones interrupted us.

Anxiously, I leaned close to Dan to read the message on his screen.

Sandra: Where are you? I’m running out of jokes.





He sighed, tapping out a response.

Dan: I just found Kat. We’ll be right there.





Dan gave me a regretful smile and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

I slipped mine in his, my heart skipping, and stepped much closer to him than strictly necessary. His gaze moved over my face for a few short seconds, and then he sighed again, turning back toward the waiting room.

When we arrived, Dan and I sat next to each other, still holding hands. And that was very, very nice.

He distracted Quinn with talk of work while Sandra and I looked up jokes on her phone, adding the best ones to her notes app for later.

After another hour or so, I received a text from Greg.

Greg: Don’t tell Quinn, as I’m sure the poor bloke doesn’t need or want to think about anything else right now, but baby Archer entered the world a few minutes ago. She’s atrociously loud and has already asserted her dominance by pissing all over the doctor. We’re so proud.





I tried not to laugh, but I did show the text to Dan, who rolled his eyes and stifled a laugh.

The next few hours consisted of endless waiting. At one point, Dan left to use the bathroom. I made an excuse so I could intercept him in the hall again, hopefully to steal a few minutes to clear the air between us. But Sandra texted us again, foiling my efforts.

Sandra—who had to work the next day—left just before midnight with promises to return early. Quinn’s parents landed from Boston and met us in the waiting room around 1:00 AM. Elizabeth opened the door to the delivery room shortly thereafter, looking ridiculously chipper and inviting Quinn’s mom to join her, the nurse, and Janie, earning a scowl from Quinn.

I dozed off around two or three o’clock and awoke near four o’clock to find Dan gone again. I snuck out of the room, hoping to catch him on his way back. Again, I was thwarted, this time by a text from Elizabeth.

But when I fell asleep around five, I woke up to find Dan had carried me to a set of chairs with no armrest between them. His arm was around my shoulder and I was leaning heavily on his body, sleeping on his chest.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.” He smoothed my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead.

Bleary eyed, I glanced around the room and found Quinn and his father sitting across from each other, arms folded. It took me a minute to realize Quinn’s father wasn’t an actual mirror image of Quinn; they looked so much alike.

Neither were asleep and they were both still as statues, except Quinn’s knee was bouncing. Mr. Sullivan displayed no outward sign of anxiousness.

“Is Janie okay?” I snuggled closer to Dan, placing my hand on his stomach and enjoying his body beneath my fingers. Clearly, my sleepy brain was an opportunist and it high-fived itself all over the place.

“She’s fine. Her labor slowed down, but everything is fine. If she doesn’t progress, they’re going to give her some drugs to speed things up.”

“Oh.” I nodded, stroking my hand back and forth over his stomach. He felt fantastic.

He caught my fingers mid-stroke and brought them to his heart, whispering tightly, “Go back to sleep.”

“What about you? Don’t you need to sleep?” I yawned, stretching against him.

Dan groaned quietly, threading his fingers into my hair and massaged my scalp. “Please go back to sleep.”

“Feel free to use me, too. You can sleep on me if you want.”

The groan became a deeper sound in the back of his throat. “I will give you a million dollars if you go back to sleep right now.”

I wrinkled my nose, my sleepy brain not understanding why in the world Dan would offer me a million dollars when he knew I had billions.

Closing my eyes again, I inhaled the scent of him. “You smell good.”

Another kiss on my forehead. “I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”

“Thank you,” I said, smelling him again. He really did smell good. So good. Dreamy.

I felt him hesitate, like he was searching for words, but then finally settled on a strained, “You’re welcome,” and his other arm came around me and hugged me close.

As I drifted back to sleep, I wondered how long people in relationships waited until they slept in the same bed together.