Burned Hearts (15 page)

We spent the hour running through an impressive list. I had a few
ah-ha
moments, but they passed in a flash. Brock stuck in my head, but I wanted to use Dane's father's name for a middle name, which was also Dane's middle name. So Brock Bradley Bax just felt like a mouthful. I didn't fully discount it, though.

Rosa offered Cort, which had potential as well. Cort Bradley Bax. It was strong, masculine. Too trendy?

We kept at it until Dr. Preston arrived and did her usual efficient assessment, with some head nodding, some shaking, then a final decisive, “Everything's going to be okay.”

I let out a lengthy sigh of relief.

“Although,” she added, “you are having this baby sooner rather than later.”

I eyed her sternly.

She said, “Ari, you have cervical insufficiency. Usually that can be determined up front, if you've had miscarriages, a D and C, or are otherwise at risk. You had no risk factors. I even examined your cervix at the beginning of your pregnancy, and it doesn't fall into the short category. But there have certainly been some changes with your body that caused the incompetency in this late stage.” With a steady gaze, she told me, “This child of yours is so ready to be born.”

“Macy mentioned he might have stopped growing,” I said, swallowing a lump of fear. “And seriously, I feel like he's all scrunched up and trying to stretch, find more room. Lots of activity in there the past week or so.”

“What's of biggest concern,” she said in an earnest tone, “is that all of his organs are developed, he doesn't have breathing problems, lung complications, and the like. I don't fear his weight from the looks of you, and preemies do very well when they're healthy. We'll just have to keep an eagle eye on him.”

“So you don't think it's too soon to have him?”

“Naturally, I prefer to hold this off at least a few more weeks. That's not going to happen, though. Your cervix has weakened, softened. You're rapidly dilating because of the baby's weight on this vulnerable part of your body.”

“But I'm not having contractions. Again, just the kicking.” I grimaced as another thump backed up my statement.

She grinned. “Sometimes, when they're ready, they're ready.” Then in a more serious tone, she said, “Unfortunately, once the water breaks there's a high risk of infection for you and the baby. We don't want that.”

“Definitely not.” She scared me even more, though I could see that wasn't her intention.

“I just want to reiterate that there could be some concerns to address after the delivery. Or things could go very well. You're healthy and there haven't been any complications beyond your morning sickness and dehydration, and you haven't suffered either of those in months, so I'm not overly worried.” She gave me a confident look.

I took a few deep breaths, then asked, “So I'm having this kid now?”

“You're having this kid now.”

 

chapter 8

Induced labor.

Yeah. Not what I'd expected.

I was dilated and Kid was ready to make his grand entrance into the world without any contractions, and I was good with that.

Induction shattered my bliss.

Meds were administered, sharp pains ensued, and I felt justified in screaming at the top of my lungs.

Dr. Preston and Macy demonstrated the utmost compassion. Rosa appeared mildly disappointed that my threshold for pain wasn't higher.

“Am I giving birth to a fucking elephant?” I demanded at one point.

Rosa went into a dissertation about her twelve-pound, twenty-inch son and I nearly passed out.

Twelve pounds?

“Ari, the baby's not
that
big,” Dr. Preston said, and shot Rosa a look.

Another contraction hit; I screamed and then glared at Rosa. She shook her head.

Macy, assisting Dr. Preston, told me, “The plus side of a quicker labor is that you won't have forty-eight hours of intermittent pain. The downside is that you'll experience forty-eight minutes of
constant
pain.”

And I did. So much so, it was a good thing Dane wasn't in the room with me—or even in the same state. I turned a bit irrational, cursing all men for having the ability to do this to unsuspecting women.

No, I hadn't been unsuspecting. But I had been on the pill. I'd just missed several doses during exhaustive Lux pre-launch planning. That was moot in my mind at the moment. At present, as far as I was concerned, I was more than entitled to blame everyone but me for the agony I was in.

Rosa held my hand—until I squeezed so tight that
she
cried out in pain. I almost said it served her right.

“Get Kyle,” I insisted. Not that I wanted to subject him to this, but I needed to know I wasn't going to crush bones. Rosa was reluctant to leave but did as I asked.

Kyle popped his head around the door. “You don't really want me in here?”

“Yes. Quick.” I reached for his hand and clutched it tight.

“Your breathing's good, Ari,” Dr. Preston said. “We're about to start doing some heavy pushing.”

“She's warning you, not me,” I told Kyle.

“Like you're going to hurt me.”

“You've been here two seconds. Just you wait.”

Sure enough, when things really got going I caught him biting back a few winces and I might have pierced an eardrum or two.

I had no idea how long this went on, but after one particularly grueling “push”—really, that didn't even begin to describe the massive shove I gave—Dr. Preston let out a delighted sound and then suddenly I heard a wail to match mine and there he was.

Kid Bax.

“Holy shit.” I stared at him, a bloody mess but mine nonetheless.

“I think I'm going to be sick.”

I spared a glance at Kyle, who'd turned a bit green around the gills at the sight of the newborn.

“He actually
is
big,” I said to Dr. Preston and Macy.

“With all ten fingers and toes intact,” my OB-GYN announced. “Some hearty lungs from the sound of things. Steady breathing.” She looked pleased and that relaxed me a bit. I still didn't let go of Kyle's hand, though.

He muttered, “Vise grip, Ari.”

“Suck it up.” I closed my eyes, in desperate need of some rest.

“I'm going to examine him,” Dr. Preston said. “I'll bring him back in a little while.”

I didn't like the idea of being separated from something I'd been so intimately attached to for seven and a half months, but I couldn't fight the overwhelming fatigue. And was out within minutes.

*   *   *

I woke sometime later to the gentle sweep of hair from my forehead and the light dabbing of a cool washcloth on my skin.

“That's nice,” I murmured. I figured Macy was playing nursemaid. She was perfect at it—when she wasn't challenging me to take better care of myself. Likely the reason she was so successful with her rehab retreat. A soft touch mixed with some tough love went a long way.

“You are absolutely amazing.”

Not
Macy's voice.

My lids snapped open.

“Dane.”

Tears flooded my eyes.

He gave me his sexy half-assed grin. The one that only lifted one corner of his tempting mouth. “You think I'd miss this?”

“Damn that Amano.”

“I only wished I could have gotten here sooner.”

“It doesn't matter. You came.” As adamant as I'd been about him not being distracted, nothing compared to having him here.

I wanted him here. I needed him here.

I said, “You won't believe how beautiful our son is.”

“Haven't seen him yet. Dr. Preston had tests to run and she's monitoring his temperature.”

“She didn't say it was low, did she?”

“No,” Dane assured me as his fingers threaded through my damp hair. “She said he's fine. In fact, Macy told me we didn't have anything to worry about. They're just taking precautions while you sleep.”

“I want to see him. I want to hold him.”

Dane whisked fat drops from my cheeks. “I'll let them know.” He kissed me tenderly, then asked, “Did you get enough rest?”

“Yes. I think I've been out for a few hours. Feels like it, anyway.”

“I'll be right back.” He kissed me again, then gazed down at me for endless seconds, his emerald irises glowing. “I am so blown away by you. Nothing stops you; nothing holds you back. You are unbelievable, Ari Bax.”

His eyes deepened in color and a light mist covered them. More tears flowed down my cheeks.

“All I did was have a baby,” I said in my usual flippant tone, though it was tinged with emotion. “Tons of chicks do it all the time. In fact, I think I bored Rosa during labor.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead, then whispered, “You're the most incredible person I know, and I love you desperately.”

I twined my arms around his neck and held him tightly to me, soaking in his heat, his masculine scent, his strength. Everything about him teased my senses and wrapped me in bliss. He made me so happy. Our entire family made me deliriously happy.

“Bring me our son,” I muttered against Dane's temple. “Let's get a good look at him together.”

Dane left me and I shifted in the bed I wasn't even cognizant of having been moved to. I wore a nightgown Rosa must have packed. As I glanced around the room, I realized Macy had put me in the bedroom off the courtyard that I'd occupied for three months when I'd had so much trouble at the beginning of my pregnancy—and I'd believed Dane was dead.

I sighed. I'd have to make amends with Amano. I didn't like that I'd told him he owed me. Though he hadn't exactly played into that hand.

Or had he?

Who had called Dane? Amano or Kyle?

Hmm
.

Would Kyle have done that again, just to make me feel better?

Probably.

He was a bit too awesome for words, after all.

Dane came back to my room and took the chair next to the bed once more. “Macy's checking in with Dr. Preston.”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “Think he'll like us?”

Dane chuckled good-naturedly. “We'll see, right?”

I inhaled deeply. “Let's hope so.”

A few minutes later, Macy came in with a thick bundle in her arms. My heart nearly burst from my chest. My toes curled.

“Oh, God,” I breathed.

I was excited. Nervous.

So very excited. So very nervous.

It was like awaiting an interview for a dream job, filing a mortgage application, praying for approval from the private school you wanted your child to attend, and meeting the parents of your significant other all at once.

I felt ridiculously on display. Wanted a mirror to check my hair and face. Wished like hell I could brush my teeth and slap a coat of polish on the nails I'd gnawed to the nub while pushing and heaving and otherwise trying to give birth without freaking Kyle out too much.

I knew it was crazy—it wasn't as though our son had any clue who Dane and I were, let alone how disheveled I looked. Perhaps it was because Dane looked so sensational, as usual, that I feared I'd fail by comparison.

Macy leaned close and carefully placed the baby in my arms. She swept back the little beanie he wore and I gasped at the thicket of black hair on his tiny head.

“Holy cow,” I gushed. “Look at that.”

The strands were the same obsidian as his father's and just as soft. He even had Dane's dark complexion. The blue eyes were mine.

Dane said, “My mother was from Madrid. He has her coloring. But that hair. It's just like my dad's.”

“He's so beautiful.” I stared in awe. Nothing had prepared me for this moment. I hadn't really considered what it would be like to hold my son in my arms for the first time. This itty-bitty guy with his small balled fists and his perfect cupid mouth that sort of gaped like a fish out of water. He gurgled and gasped and I fell in love with every sound he made, as well as the sight of him.

“Too perfect, huh?” I asked Dane.

“Just perfect enough.” His voice was filled with emotion. Pride. Joy. Love.

I glanced at him. He was mesmerized. I didn't blame him.

We both admired our little creation, who wiggled and squirmed, but in a way that made me think he was just looking for that cozy sweet spot in my arms.

When he found it, he settled in and let out a sigh. Or so I thought. Who knew? Could've been gas. It was cute either way.

“Amsel,” Dane said in his low voice.

“Hmm?”

“It's German.”

Like Dane's father.

“Means ‘blackbird.'”

My gaze landed on the tuft of hair again. “Apropos.”

“Yes.”

“Amsel Bradley Bax,” I quietly announced.

“He'll change this world.”

My attention shifted to Dane. Had his father thought the same thing when he'd laid eyes on Dane for the first time? Had he innately known of Dane's potential for greatness?

I stared a while longer at my husband, a new puzzle piece forming in my mind.

Who was Dane's father? Rather, who had he been? And had he known his son would be someone so significant, influential, powerful?

Was this genetic?

The society popped into my head. Dane had been recruited outside of the circle, when the others had been inaugurated by virtue of heredity.

Except for Vale Hilliard. His father was part of the society, yet Vale wasn't. Were there others who hadn't made the grade? What happened when they fell short? Did they take up a role similar to Vale's? Serve as part of the network, on-hand to do whatever was demanded of them because they were the soldiers, not the leaders?

“Hey,” Dane said as his lips grazed my temple. “What are you thinking?”

I didn't want to spoil the moment with the subject of the Illuminati, so I said, “Just that we've been given the most precious gift imaginable. Honestly, Dane, he's so fantastic.” My head dipped and I brushed the tip of my nose against my son's. “Amsel,” I whispered. He cooed.