“Mind if I steal you away for a minute?” he asks, and I nod.
I tell Jilly I’ll see her later, but she’s having so much fun that she doesn’t seem to notice. I leave the group, Greyston taking my hand and pulling me from the dance floor and toward the main entry. It doesn’t surprise me that he turns right instead of left, pulling me into the back room I mentioned earlier, because I sensed the heavy sexual undertones in his request a moment ago.
The second the door is closed, Greyston leans me against it, pressing his body to mine until not even a whisper of air can be found between us. The warmth of his lips as they kiss their way up the column of my throat makes me moan, and I twist my fingers into his recently-cut hair to draw his mouth to mine. Our kiss deepens quickly, the passion in the room thick, and his hands start to roam over the soft blue fabric of my dress until he’s palming my breasts. His fingertips curl just over the plunging neckline until they brush my skin, and I arch into his touch.
Frantically, I begin to force his tux jacket over his shoulders, and he breaks contact with my chest only long enough to remove the jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. His right hand finds my breast again, while his left one wanders down the length of my body and grabs my knee. He hitches it up over his hip until I can feel how aroused he is. Excitement shoots through my body, manifesting itself as a dull hum beneath my skin that seems to be most concentrated in my right thigh—the one that’s currently wrapped around Greyston’s body.
It isn’t until the sensation stops and then starts again moments later that Greyston pulls his face from mine and chuckles. “I think you’re thigh’s vibrating,” he teases, letting my leg fall back to the floor as he reaches for my hip and gently tugs on the pocket of my dress.
My phone. Of course.
Still breathing heavily, I grab my phone from my pocket—the biggest selling feature of the dress—and notice that it’s my mom. Before she gets put through to my voicemail, I answer it. “Hello? Mom?”
“Oh, good!” she exclaims, sounding just as breathless as I am…which leads me to a horrifying conclusion that makes me shudder. “I didn’t think I’d get you, what with the two of youuuuuu…” It startles me when she stops mid sentence, dragging the word “you” out and having it escalate into a cry of severe discomfort.
“Mom?” I demand, feeling my forehead pull up with worry. “What’s going on?”
She takes several deep breaths, releasing them slowly, and in the background I can hear my father talking her through whatever’s going on. Before I can inquire further, she says, “We’re headed to the hospital, sweetheart. I was just going to leave a message since we knew you were at the wedding.”
“Ohmygod!” I exclaim, looking at Greyston as my mouth turns up into a wide smile. When his own look of worry transforms into a knowing smile, he reaches for the doorknob behind me. “We’re on our way.”
“Oh, no,” she says calmly. “Don’t worry about that. We can see you tomorrow, honey.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! We’ll be there as soon as we can.” I hang up the phone just as Mom goes into another horrifically painful-sounding contraction, and Greyston and I head off to find Toby and Callie. They’re with Greyston’s parents, so we’re able to them all at once before we leave the reception hall and drive to the hospital.
After finding a parking spot, Greyston and I rush into the hospital hand-in-hand. The woman at the main desk directs us to the maternity floor. Greyston and I wait a ridiculously long time for the elevator to arrive, and an even longer amount of time for it to reach the third floor. Okay, so it’s probably a completely reasonable amount of time, but my excitement seems to be drawing everything out a little longer than normal.
As soon as we’re off the elevator, we speed-walk down the hall toward the nurses’ station, passing a few women walking around in hospital gowns, their significant others at their sides and rubbing their backs when they keel over in what looks like an excruciating contraction.
“I’m looking for Anne and Cam Foster,” I announce to the nurse behind the desk, drawing her attention from the computer to me.
She offers me a bright smile. “You must be Juliette. Your parents are expecting you and asked me to send you both right in when you arrived. They’re in room 305.”
Not wanting to waste another second, Greyston and I scoot down the hall and open the door marked 305. It would figure the scene we walk in on isn’t completely expected, especially considering I tend to have the worst timing on the planet when it comes to visiting my parents. Apparently having a baby doesn’t change this.