Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(132)

I sound cruel I know but I hadn’t been in a place to let him hold my hand and coach me through this, not now. Maybe when I see the baby and feel more like…not crying myself to death, I’ll be able to look at him and smile.

“Come on honey, come on now. Push my darling.” Mama says sternly, her face as cherry red as mine as she holds her breath and pushes right along with me through every contraction.

“I see the head Becky dear. Push as hard as you can when I say sweetheart. One, two, three. Push!”

“This isn’t right. A bowling ball can’t fit through an opening the size of a grape!” I screech, pushing so hard it feels like my head will explode.

“If that’s what you think, you should wait a while before looking at your vagina again.” The nurse chuckles, dipping her head when I glare at her through the aneurism I’m about to have.

“I. Will. Cut. You.”

I push harder when I feel the pressure increase, my voice coming out in a thin wail that blasts through the room like a gunshot.

I keep pushing, ignoring the commotion at the door and focus on staying conscious, my entire lower body feeling like one big geyser about to erupt.

The pressure suddenly releases with a whoosh and I slump back, exhausted and ready to sleep when I hear a mewling wail a moment before the doctor rises from between my legs and plops a bloody, writhing-

“Oh my God.” I choke, looking down at the little miracle wriggling on my chest.

“You’ve got a beautiful, perfect little girl. Congratulations mama, you did good.”

I can’t stop the tears that slip out and pour down my cheeks or the hysterical sobbing cry that leaves me when my daughter opens her eyes and stares blearily up at me, her mouth pulling into a slash as she lets out a cry of indignation.

To say that I’m surprised to be looking down at a little girl, well, I’m mighty glad mama has a thing for white and yellow or I’d be raising a little hoydenish tomboy.

I feel a gentle kiss on my forehead and look up, ready to let mama see the baby and all the joy I feel in that moment but it’s not her I see when the tears finally clear, it’s Devon and he’s looking at me with so much pride I can’t help but smile back and release my grip on the baby.

“You did so good imp.” He chokes and I chuckle through a sob.

“Yeah. You ready to meet your daughter?”

We may never be together and a part of us may never learn to get over the hurdles and distrust that we’ve sown through our tumultuous relationship, but this I know as he takes the squirming bundle from me an kisses her bloody cheek as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever beheld; Devon is going to be a great dad and I couldn’t have chosen better for my kid.

There is no better. He’s it.





Chapter Thirty Four




“Are you sure you’re okay? I think the wind is picking up. I’ll ask coach if I can pull the car onto the entrance at the field and you and Immie can watch from there.”

“Day, calm down okay. She’s a baby not a piece of glass and it’s not windy at all. Go do your thing and we’ll be here, just fine, till you’re done.” I laugh, giving the kid a small shove before leaning down to adjust the blanket over Imogen’s chin.

She’s a month old and already so spoilt I don’t stand a hope in hell with her unless I buy a whip and some sort of kiddie leash. The kid is huge, really huge, my vagina can attest to that fact and the apple of her dad’s eye.

And apparently any eye that lands on her cute little face.

Her little tufts of downy hair are golden blonde just like her father’s and her eyes, while still that murky baby blue, are promising to be the same pale grey that make up the Baxter clan.

Go figure his genetics would overrun the game and go freaking figure that my little gem would look exactly like the man I’m trying my darnedest not to think about every second of the day.

I can just see myself years from now, crying into my cereal when that smile lights up her face and reminds me of everything I’ve lost.

I’m doing okay though. After a huge argument and a lot of yelling I’d convinced my folks that I am not an invalid just because my little girl tried to rip me in half and that I can do things by myself.

And then I’d whammied them with the little house I’d let Grey buy me-I’m paying him back in full when I get a job-and ignored their arguments and put them to work.

I am now a single mom, living in a very cute little single cottage, exhausted but content to let the hordesin at all hours of the day to see the precious little cherub.

“His form is better.”

I look up to see Devon standing beside me, his hands crammed into the pockets of his light coat.