The bond is a gift when Quincy doesn’t feel like speaking, and this contraction means business. Dr. Lindsay wasn’t joking when she mentioned Quincy could walk around dted for several weeks. Today marks thirty-eight weeks and five days, and I’d bet my left nut that this is activebor.

    Not that I’m particrly fond of my balls at the moment. First of all, they get shooting pains every single time a contraction ravages the bond. And secondly, they’re at least partially responsible for the pain Quincy is now experiencing every five minutes.

    Her nails dig into my forearm, and she stops dead in her tracks on the way to the bathroom. She groans, swaying from side to side.

    Dammit.

    I’d do just about anything to be able to trade ces with her. “Can I help in any way?”

    “By not talking,” she grumbles. “Let’s just have quiet time for right now.”

    I nod.

    Message received, loud and clear.

    Today has been brutal.

    She’s thrown up twice and dealt with a stomach ache on and off all afternoon, but the mild difort ramped up to significant pain once the sun went down.

    “Car is packed,” Hart says, jogging into the room. “Trigg called the office to let them know the contractions areing?—”

    “We’re all being quiet while I breathe through the pain,” Quincy hisses.

    I nod like a total suck up, and Hart shoots me a what the hell? kinda look. Yeah, I probably should have warned him, but then I would have been the one who got in trouble.

    I’m already at the top of her shit list because I’m the one who impregnated her.

    “Okay, let’s go,” Quincy says as the contraction starts to ease. “I have to pee so bad, which makes no sense since I peed two contractions ago.”

    “It’s okay, Mama. The baby books said this would happen due to all the pressure down there.” I help her waddle to the bathroom and say a prayer that she doesn’t hate me after giving birth.hr

    Trigg maintains a level of calm that I’m extremely envious of. It feels like the world is on fire, and I really wish Quincy would just say enough is enough and get the fucking epidural.

    I keep my mouth firmly closed about that because it’s her body, but it’s eating away at my soul to watch her suffer.

    Hartley stands behind her as she bounces on the birthing ball, and I pace the floor bare. The nurse has been in and out, but she pops back in, rubbing her hands together with what I assume is hand sanitizer.

    She moves to grab gloves and smiles at Quincy. “How are we doing? Baby’s heart rate looks good on the portable monitors?—”

    “I’d like to be checked, please,” Quincy says, nodding. “I changed my mind. I want an epidural if I can still get it.”

    “I’m happy to check you,” the nurse says. “I do want to mention that if you get the epidural, you have to stay in bed. It’s for safety reasons, but it’s hard to be up moving around with a catheter, anyway.”

    Why the hell is she trying to talk Quincy out of the epidural? Okay, maybe she’s just giving her the information, but I have to fight the urge to shush her.

    Give my woman the good drugs.

    Trigg strides over and squats down in front of Quincy. “Can I help you up, love?”

    “Yep, and let’s move fast,” Quincy says. “I really don’t want to miss the window for the epidural.”

    Oh, thank God.hr

    “Are you doing okay, Dad?” the new nurse asks me as Quincy pushes through another contraction.

    “Yeah, I’m solid.” I’ve got hold of her left leg while Trigg manages the right. That psychopath has not looked away from the danger zone once, but I’m trying to split my attention between Quincy’s face and what’s going on down there.

    “Okay, take a seat if that changes,” the first nurse says. “It’s always the big guys who hit the floor, and we aren’t going to leave Mom to help you.”

    Well, that’s a good thing.

    Their focus should be on her.

    “You’re doing great, Quincy,” Dr. Lindsay says.

    “You really are,” Hart chokes out. He’s up by Quincy’s head, holding her hand. From how white his knuckles are, I’m going to guess she’s squeezing the ever-loving shit out of him.

    The contraction slowly dissipates, and Quincy’s head falls back against the hospital bed. She’s exhausted, but in much better spirits since the epidural. Shebored all night and through the morning. It’s almost four in the afternoon, and none of us has slept.

    I’m running on pure adrenaline, but the bond says Quincy is beat. Every time I think the baby’s head is about to pop out, it scoots back in. I also read first-time moms sometimes push for hours, so I think she’s crushing this whole giving-birth thing.hr

    Several more pushes produce limited results, but there is a little more progress, even if it’s a small amount.

    It’s baffling to me how Trigg can watch without ncing away. I peek when the exciting stuff is happening, but it feels rude to stare. Everything is swollen and bloody, and it looks painful as fuck.

    I’d get shot all over again if it meant Quincy didn’t have to go through this. The only thing keeping me going is knowing we’ll meet our daughter soon. Guilt still threatens to eat me alive, though. Not only did she spend eight months doing everything alone, but now every bit of this is on her shoulders as well.

    Another contraction begins, and Quincy’s face turns red as she pushes.

    “That’s it, Quincy. Just like that,” Dr. Lindsay says. “You’re doing great.”

    My jaw falls as the baby’s head pops out, turning to the side. She has a head full of dark hair, just like me and Quincy. She’s also bloody and gooey, but Dr. Lindsay pats around her head.

    Everything bes background noise, and on the next contraction, the baby’s shoulders pop out.

    My eyes fly from the baby to Quincy, but Hartley cradles her cheeks in his hands as he whispers something. I’m so out of it that I can’t make out whatever he said.

    It feels like I’m in a tunnel.

    “Don’t pass out. I won’t be able to save you,” Trigg says, giving me a serious look.

    The doctor ces the baby on Quincy’s chest to clean her off, and I’m so distracted that I ignore the nurse the first time she speaks.

    “I can take over here,” she says again. “Go check on your wife and daughter.”

    “Thanks,” I say as the baby starts to wail.

    My knees shake at the sound. That’s a good sign, right?

    I’m out of it as I stagger the few feet to Quincy’s head.

    “I’m so proud of you,” I choke out and promptly burst into tears.

    Hartley holds his phone, taking pictures.

    Trigg appears on her other side, and he doesn’t hesitate to stretch out a hand to pat the baby’s back.

    My system is too overloaded to know what to do or who to focus on, but I’m just thankful I haven’t passed out.

    Leaning over the railing, I run my fingers over Quincy’s cheek. “I love you so fucking much. Can you believe it? We made a whole tiny person.”

    Sheughs, even though she looks exhausted. “Love you too, but for the record, she didn’t feel tiny. Do giant heads run in your family?”

    I bark augh.

    Yeah, now that I think about it, they probably do.

    I’m really fucking lucky that Trigg is an unrepentant stalker. I never would have recovered from missing this.hr

    There are very few times when I wish we had a fourth guy in our pack, but it would make splitting shifts easier.

    Trigg cuts the umbilical cord, and he and Hartley apany the baby to the nursery while I stay with Quincy.

    The way this hospital is set up, if you opt for a birthing nest, you have to swap to a different room after giving birth. Quincy didn’t want to go that route, meaning we get to stay in the same room for the rest of her postpartum stay.

    I wonder if they’ll refund me the difference since we didn’t end up using one of the nests? Damn. Maybe Easton is right. I am cheap.

    Quincy’s first trip to the bathroom is rough, but the massaging of her stomach that the nurse does after might actually be worse. Her pain filters through the bond, and it’s at contraction levels.

    The nurse gives Quincy her pain meds, asks her a bunch of questions, and finally leaves.

    I hover near the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say or what to do.

    Quincy reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Cuddle with me?”

    Nodding, I lower the bed rail and climb onto the bed next to her. It’s a slow process because I’m terrified of hurting her, but once I get settled, she scoots over and rests her head on my chest.

    “How are you?” I ask, my voiceing out weirdly raspy.

    Sheughs weakly. “I’m hanging in there. What I really need is for Hart and Trigg to bring the baby back. I hate having her out of my line of sight.”

    “Yeah,” I agree. “But at least we know they’ve got her. Have any opinions on names yet?”

    “Maybe.”

    I tilt my head down, kissing her forehead. “Oh yeah? I’m all ears.”

    She shrugs. “I was really stuck on Valley for a while, but Ridge and Valley… I’m not sure that would work, especially if we have more kids. I found Camdyn the other night, and it also means valley without being so tant about it, but I like Meadow too.”

    My heart races. “So you don’t hate me and would possibly be open to having more kids one day?”

    “Of course I don’t hate you.” She ps my chest. “I love you, even when you’re being a pain in the ass. And I don’t know. I mean, give me more than two hours to recover from thest kid, but yeah, I think I’d be open to having more children.”

    “I love you, sweetheart.” I break out into a wicked grin. “Well, in that case, I’m down with whatever name you like best. Camdyn is adorable. Cam makes for a great nickname. Meadow is sweet. It would be fitting.”

    Basically, this goes back to not being able to deny her anything. She just pushed out an eight-pound, twenty-inch baby with my eyes and Quincy’s nose. I’d give her legitimately anything she asked for.

    “Camdyn is perfect,” she whispers.

    I’m still not sure what I did in life to deserve her, but I’m really fucking grateful for the universe’s mistake.hrh2 id="id__798_117_" ss="heading_s1"Hartley/h2

    Ididn’t know it was possible to fall in love at first sight.

    Camdyn proved how wrong I was. One look at her tiny, upturned nose, chubby cheeks, and bright blue eyes, and I was done for.

    I’ve taken so many pictures over thest twenty-four hours that I’m going to have to transfer them to a memory card and copy them to the cloud as soon as we get home.

    I drop my phone next to my thigh and pat Camdyn’s back. She just got done with a bottle, meaning it’s time to burp. I just had to grab a few pictures with her little lips pushed together and her eyes looking milk drunk.

    Quincy tried breastfeeding during her golden hour, but she quickly admitted that she didn’t feel like it was for her. One of the nurses tried to prod her into trying again, which I put a quick stop to. The most important thing is that Camdyn is fed, and this actually makes it easier for us to help out with feedings. If she changes her mind that’s one thing, but I don’t want her to feel pressured one way or the other.

    Quincy has been in good spirits, but bathroom trips are still rough, and we can feel every bit of her pain echo in the bond. She waddles out and jabs a finger at Ridge. “I’m telling you, I’d be twenty-five percent better off if you didn’t pass on your ‘big-headed’ gics.”

    “Well, I can’t help with that, but I’ve heard kisses help you feel twenty-five percent better.” He snorts and saunters over, bending low and kissing her.

    She melts into his chest, all her ire apparently forgotten.

    “I bet you won’t scoff next time when I offer to help with perineal massage,” Trigg says, like he has a death wish.

    Quincyughs, pulling back from her kiss with Ridge. She spins around, but rather than sporting a look that should melt the skin from his bones, she smiles. “Never change, Trigg.”

    “You’re so damn lucky that she likes your brand of quirky.” I snort.

    He nods. “I know.” He reaches over, running his fingers over the back of Camdyn’s head. “What I can’t believe is that we made such a beautiful baby.”

    I grin, shaking my head.

    He’s weird as shit, but he grows on you.

    The more time we spend as a family, the more I actually like the guy. Once our bonds were in ce, the rivalry between the three of us fizzled. Being able to experience Quincy’s emotions toward them probably helped, but building genuine friendships with Trigg and Ridge has been one of the more rewarding parts of pack life so far.

    We might bepletely different people, but our love for Quincy brought us together. And now we get to fall in love all over again with Camdyn as we learn to be fathers.hr

    “I get it, Nugget,” I coo down at Camdyn as we pace around the nursery at three or four a.m. “I’d be angry too. You just have to get it all out before I can change you.”

    I chuckle to myself as my head shakes. Ridge is never going to live that nightmare down. He went to change her diaper a little too soon and when he stretched over to grab some wipes… It was brutal. A whole projectile poop that covered his arm and half the wall next to the changing table.

    Over thest six weeks, I’ve been peed on twice and had her spit up in my mouth once. Neither seems as bad as what happened to Ridge.

    Not only was it a nightmare to clean up, but I couldn’t stopughing long enough to take over with the baby.

    Quincy just shook her head and told Ridge to get in the shower. I did help clean up the aftermath, though.

    “I’ve seen what you eat, child,” I murmur, swaying around as I pat her back. “I’m still confused how you convert that into whates out the other side.”

    “Has she been like this all night?” Trigg asks, appearing in the doorway.

    “Wide awake?” I raise a hand and swivel it side to side. “She’s slept on and off, but hardly any consistent stretches. As long as you’re up and moving, she’s pretty content. Or she was before this diaper.”

    His nose wrinkles. “Yes, well, you handle that. I’ll prepare a bottle, and once you’ve addressed that diaper—it technically happened on your shift—I’ll be back to take over.”

    I almost snort.

    For being sofortable with blood and gore, he’s a big giant baby when ites to changing shitty diapers.

    “All right, littledy. Let’s see if you’re happier with a clean bottom.” I stride over, cing her down on the changing table.

    Her little arms il, and I grin, bending over to nuzzle my nose to hers. Being a parent is tough, but it’s the most rewarding experience of my life. I can’t wait to see how much more personality she has as she grows. And if we’re lucky, maybe we can add another kiddo or two to the mix.hrh2 id="id__798_118_" ss="heading_s1"Trigg/h2

    Four Years Later

    The feminine energy in our house is now tied with the masculine. While Quincy and Camdyn were outnumbered for a while, Lindee evened the ying field. Well, I suppose King tips the scale to our side, but that mutt is evenzier in his old age than he was a few years ago.

    We’ve had exactly zero luck with having a boy. We’re three for three on littledies or we will be once the new baby arrives.

    Quincy is currently eight months pregnant with baby number three, which keeps to our standard of having a baby about every two years.

    While Ridge and Hartley had no clear preference on knowing paternity for Lindee, I feltpelled to know.

    We’ve always known Camdyn is biologically Ridge’s.

    Hartley fathered Lindee.

    And that meant I got my try for a boy this time.

    It didn’t work out how I nned. But rather than push for a fourth child, I’ve opted to very quietly start training the girls. Having a boy who could look out for them would be nice, but I have no preference on gender when it trulyes down to it.

    Women can be every bit as deadly as men.

    Camdyn and Lindee are still a bit young for full training.

    I’ll be sure they’re able to take down any boy who gives them trouble before they hit double digits, though.

    Quincy’s head rolls around on the back of the couch, and she pats my hand on her stomach. “What craziness are you plotting now?”

    The girls squeal as Ridge chases them around the living room on all fours. Hartleyughs, blocking the door so they can’t escape to run down the hallway.

    “Me?” I chuckle. “Just thinking about how much louder life is going to be when we add a third to the mix.”

    But truthfully?

    I wouldn’t have it any other way.