“Are we being bad?” Josie asked, widening her eyes at him. She was getting into her new role, Hugh could tell. Instead of the constant vamping of Evil Dr. Eva, he was getting the enthusiasm of Anika Luatua, rural schoolteacher. He knew which one he preferred. And if Anika didn’t capture some hearts pretty quickly, Hugh would be gobsmacked, because she did the business for him. Although he didn’t mind her showing him Dr. Eva from time to time, either. A command performance. That worked too.
But just now, there was no Dr. Eva in sight. Instead, she had taken off, was running down the row, between the vines, looking back at him, laughing, then ducking out of sight, and he was laughing too and chasing her. Which wasn’t easy, because she fit beneath the interlocking mesh of vines, and he had to duck to avoid them. Wedding or no, if he damaged the vines, her dad would have something to say about it.
She led him up the next row, down another. Ducked across a few rows, so he had to search for her, and was halfway up when he finally caught her, slung an arm around her waist and reeled her in.
“Got you,” he told her, turning her in his arms. “Not getting away from me that easily. Now that I’ve caught you, I’m holding onto you, remember?”
Her spectacular chest was heaving with effort, her dark eyes sparkling with fun, and bloody hell, but she was beautiful. No makeup, shorts and T-shirt and boots, her long dark hair in a ponytail. Beautiful.
“Should’ve guessed I couldn’t run away from you,” she said, her gorgeous mouth curved in a laugh.
“My job, isn’t it,” he said huskily. “Chasing people down. Taking what I want.”
Her eyes widened with some more of that innocent alarm. “Should I be scared?”
He smiled. “Eventually. In about two days.” He led her over to their bench, sat on the rustic wooden seat, pulled her down beside him, and took her in his arms. “For right now, though,” he told her, “you should just get ready to be kissed pretty hard.”
He did kiss her, and then he kissed her some more. Did a fair amount of groping, too.
“You looked pretty good in that red bikini today,” he said, his mouth at her neck, his hand on a luscious breast that fit it perfectly, that seemed like it had been made for him to hold, and that he hadn’t touched in much too long. “Bringing that one on the honeymoon?”
“Mmm,” she said, sighing and shifting a bit on the bench. “Thought you’d like that. That’s one of them I’m bringing. The other one’s even better.”
“Don’t see how that’s even possible.” His hand was up under the hem of the T-shirt now, moving inside her bra and finding warm flesh, making her squirm a bit, and making him heat up at the silk of her beneath his palm. And that most wonderful spot. The nipple pebbling under his touch, her gasp as he played with it.
“Smaller, I mean,” she got out. “The bikini.”
“And again…” he said, moving his hand just to see her eyes darken, her mouth open.
“You ever heard of a…thong?” she asked.
He groaned. “You’re going to kill me. And now I understand,” he went on, keeping his hand moving, keeping her going, feeling her respond to him, “why they used to have that rule about not being with the bride before the wedding. The fella might still have cold feet, but every other part of him would be dying to get that ceremony done. Don’t know if I’m going to make it.”
He bent to kiss her again. “Rough sex on a bench,” he whispered in her ear, and felt her shudder. “How does that sound?”
“Splinters,” she said with a gasp.
“Not so rough, then. You on top of me. I’ll make it good. Promise.” Was she going to go for it? Bloody hell, he hoped so.
“No,” she sighed. “Wouldn’t put it past my dad to take a walk out here. Nah. You wait, boy.” She pulled away from him, smoothed her hair a bit, let him know that playtime was over. “Do you have cold feet?”
“No.” He pulled her shirt down with regret, because the thought of sitting here, with her on top of him, his hands on her hips, shoving her down over him, again and again…he could’ve done that. He’d been about two seconds away from doing that, if her feet hadn’t been colder than his. “My feet, and every other part of me, too, are nothing but hot for you. But hang on,” he realized. “Do you?” Why was she asking?
“A bit,” she admitted.
He felt the shock of it, a punch to his gut, the mood changing completely with those two little words.
“What…” He swallowed. “What is it? The kids? Me? What?” He shut his mouth on the protest, the promises. Stopped, sat, and waited, his heart in his throat.
“All those pregnancies today,” she said, shifting away from him even farther, looking through the gathering darkness at the vines. So fertile, like everything around them. Everything except her. “All those kids.”
“Two of them were our kids,” he reminded her. “And I meant what I said.”
“I guess I keep wondering…” she said, and trailed off.
“What?” he asked gently, taking her hand, swallowing against the pain in her eyes. “What do you wonder?”
She looked at him. Straight and sober, nothing but honest. “Not that you’d leave. But that you’d be sorry you couldn’t.”
He started to tell her that they’d been through this again and again, forced himself to stop and think instead.
“Anything other than the baby you think I’ll be sorry about?” he asked.
“No. At least…” She laughed a little, though it didn’t seem funny to him. “Nothing my mind is torturing me with. Nothing but that.”
“Then how about if we make a plan?” he asked, keeping her hand in his, trying to show her that he had her, that he was holding her. “First thing we do when we’re back, after the honeymoon. Check into what it takes to adopt a baby. Decide when the soonest is that we’ll be ready to do it. Whether that’s now, or a bit later. Fill out whatever we have to fill out, anyway, to say why we’d be the best. Get started.”
He did his best to smile, put a hand up to her cheek, held her there. “Because, sweetheart. Any mum who has to give her baby up? Any girl facing that choice—why wouldn’t she choose you? I know she couldn’t do better. I know how lucky that baby would be.”
Her expressive brown eyes were brimming with tears. One of them escaped, slid down her face, and he brushed it away with his thumb.
“So if that’s it,” he went on gently, “we can do that. I’ll be right there with you. We’ll do it together. And you’ll have your baby.”
She was crying now. Too much for any thumb to wipe away, so he held her against him instead, let her let it out, let it go. All the tension, all the worry he hadn’t known she was carrying.
“But there’s one thing,” he said against her hair. “When you’re worried like this, you need to let me know, let me help you carry it. Whatever it is. I’m a pretty clueless fella. I may need some help to catch on. But once you tell me, I’ll be there. I promise.”
She pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes swimming with tears, but steady on his again. “You really mean it,” she said. “You’ll really do it.”
“I’ll do anything it takes,” he promised her. “Anything at all. I’m going to stand in that church day after tomorrow. I’m going to hold your hand. And when the man asks me the question? I’m going to say I will. And I’m going to mean it.”
That had done the business. And it was even true.
And today, they were going to the movies with all those pregnant women. But then, Josie’s sister-in-law was pregnant too, and a couple of the cousins as well. There really was no escape, and he could see what she had been living with these past years.
Well, the movie was a bit of an escape, at least. For her, and for him. Nothing but fluff, a Christmas-themed rom-com. All courtship, and not a baby in sight. Snow and dark and cold and all the things New Zealand wasn’t, although the thoroughly air-conditioned chill of the multiplex was doing its best to set the tone.
Hugh was si
tting at the far end of the group. And holding Josie’s hand, because if holding her hand was all there was, he was holding her hand. He wouldn’t put it past himself to steal a kiss or two before the lights went up.
He wasn’t thinking about that just now, though. Because the fella on the screen who’d left the girl behind at the airport to take the new job had just turned around in the boarding queue, was running back through the crowd, dodging around passengers, leaving his luggage and the new post and the new life behind. The music was swelling, and bloody hell, but Hugh was misting up himself.
It must be the wedding. He hadn’t cried when the All Blacks had won the Championship back in October, when Nate had hoisted the trophy overhead. He’d been happy, of course he had. He’d been bloody rapt about it. He’d laughed. He might even, if the truth were screwed out of him, have choked up a bit. But he hadn’t cried.
He hadn’t cried when the whistle had blown on a victorious Northern tour, either, on the team’s resurgence after their shocker season of the year before, at knowing they were taking their rightful place again as the powerhouse of world rugby. At knowing they were back, that they were stronger than ever for the losses. That they were, above all, a team.
No, he hadn’t cried during any of those. He hadn’t even cried when he’d come home to Josie and the kids. He’d wanted to, but he hadn’t.
But like it or not, that was a tear making its warm, wet way down his cheek. He didn’t dare brush it away, because Josie would notice, he knew it. He needed to sniff a bit, too, and he wasn’t doing that either.
He didn’t even want to think about what would happen during the wedding. Every time he thought about her walking down the aisle to him…
His thoughts were interrupted by some commotion down the aisle. He looked over, saw the seats banging up as the others filed out. He looked up at the screen. The fella was still running. What?
“Something’s happened,” Josie whispered to him, tugging at his hand. “Come on.”
The other patrons in the theater were shifting, muttering at the disruption, and Hugh ducked as low as he could from his considerable height, followed Josie down the empty row to the end, nearly slipping on a puddle on the concrete floor along the way. Somebody’d spilled their drink.
They made it up the aisle, into the carpeted lobby, and there the others were. Standing in a little circle around Hannah, who had Drew’s arm around her, and was looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. Physically or otherwise, Hugh couldn’t tell.
“Gone into labor,” Reka told Josie.
“Sorry,” Hannah said. “You all should go watch the end of the movie. I’m fine. If Drew just…” She stopped, her face tightening, and she looked more than uncomfortable now, was leaning into Drew, and he had his other arm around her.
“Right. Sitting down,” Drew said. He looked around, but there wasn’t really anyplace to sit, not up here.
“Food court,” Reka said briskly. “Downstairs.”
“Just a…minute,” Hannah got out. “Can’t…right now.”
They all waited it out, and Finn was looking at his watch, a frown making his craggy features look even more forbidding than usual. Then he was looking at Jenna, and she was looking back at him.
“Fifty-six seconds,” he said quietly, and if that meant anything, Hugh didn’t know what it was.
Hannah gradually straightened, took a deep breath, tried to smile. “Sorry. I think…the hospital, Drew.”
“Yeh,” he said. “Of course. Straight away. Downstairs, first. Can you walk?”
“Of course I can. But…” She looked embarrassed. “I’m…wet. The seat. The theater. We should say something.”
Hugh was confused. What? He never knew what was going on.
“Her water,” Josie said quietly next to him. “Her water broke. Why her dress is wet.”
“Oh.” He’d heard of that, vaguely. Hadn’t sounded like anything he wanted to know about, so he’d passed it right on by.
Drew didn’t even respond to Hannah’s concern. “Downstairs,” he said, putting an arm around her and beginning to lead her toward the escalator.
“But…somebody needs to tell them,” Hannah said, resisting his efforts, forcing him to stop.
“Hannah,” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll cope.”
“It does.” She actually looked distressed now. “It’s such a mess. It’s so…so embarrassing. It’s like I…peed on the seat.” She was very nearly crying, Hugh saw.
“And d’you imagine no kid has ever done that?” Drew demanded. “Come on.”
“I’ll tell them,” Reka put in hastily when Hannah looked even more upset. “Hemi and I’ll go tell them straight away, then come find you.”
“Tell them the row,” Hannah said, then began to stiffen again, her breath hitching.
Finn was still looking at his watch. “Three minutes,” he told Drew. “Don’t hang about, mate. Get her downstairs.”
Drew nodded, Reka and Hemi took themselves off in the direction of the box office, and the rest of them began to follow Drew and Hannah.
She took a few steps, then stopped, leaned against Drew’s chest, held onto his shoulders, breathing hard.
He waited again, his arms around her, then, as she straightened, led her onto the nearly empty “down” escalator. The “up” one held a scattering of patrons arriving for the next film, and the group attracted some curious stares. And then came the whispering, the inevitable camera phones.
Drew paid them no attention, just strode off the escalator, still holding onto Hannah. “My car’s blocks away.” He glanced around the group, his gaze settling on Koti. “You’re the fastest,” he said, pulling out his keys. “Go get it. A few blocks down Totara Street, on your right.”
“No,” Koti said, and Drew looked startled, as well he might. “Mine’s closer. I’ll get it, and I’ll drive.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just took off, big body graceful as always, dodging the other patrons as if he were shedding tacklers.
“I’ll go out and watch for him,” Finn decided. “Come tell you when he brings the car up. We can’t have him looking for parking.”
“Oh, man, this is embarrassing,” Hannah moaned.
Of course it would be, for somebody as private as Hannah. That was easy even for Hugh to see. The presence of the group hadn’t gone unnoticed. In fact, the entire food court was watching at this point, at least the Kiwis amongst them. Make that about two-thirds of the food court, then. The crowd was growing all the time, cameras were out, and this was clearly the most excitement Mt. Maunganui had seen in some time.
“Yeah, Hannah,” Kate said. “Why can’t you go into labor in the middle of the night like a normal person?”
“I’m just giving Koti more practice,” Hannah said, still embarrassed, but trying to rally. “In case.”
“We’re not planning on doing it quite so dramatically,” Kate said. “Ever. He fell asleep in the chair with Maia. More than twenty-four hours. I would’ve been glad to fall asleep myself. But as always, you’re more efficient than me, Hannah.”
Hannah smiled at her friend. “Always…snarky,” she got out, then stiffened again, began to breathe harder, her focus clearly turning inward, and Drew uttered an exclamation, held her some more.
Hemi approached a group sitting at one of the square tables, eating Indian food from paper plates.
“Fellas,” he told the young men, “we’ve got a bit of a situation here. I’ll ask you to get up and let these ladies sit down.”
The men gaped up at him for a moment. The expressions on their faces would have been comical under any other circumstances, Hugh decided.
“Yeh,” one of them managed to say. “Right.” They sprang to their feet, picked up their plates, and moved off fast.
Drew waited until Hannah looked more relaxed again, then set her gently into one of the plastic chairs, and Kristen and Jenna joined her in a couple of the others. At least everybody was sitting down now, and
Hugh breathed a bit easier.
“Just a few minutes, sweetheart,” Drew told his wife, “and we’ll be on our way. No worries. But I need to call the midwife, let her know we’re coming.” He pulled out his phone, turned away, and was speaking into it within seconds, his voice urgent.
Hannah laughed again. Doing her best to smooth the situation for everybody else there, as if that were possible. “It’s like a sitcom,” she said.
“It’d only be a sitcom if Kristen and Jenna went into labor too,” Kate said. She looked at Kristen, sitting beside her sister and looking sweetly concerned. “Any action?”
“No,” Kristen said, clearly startled. “Of course not. I’ve still got more than three weeks to go.”
“I have two,” Hannah said, and that was another laugh, at least an attempt at one.
“Don’t scare us like that, Kate,” Reka said. “Bloody hell.”
Drew looked up, because Finn was coming back, threading his way between the tables.
“Car’s here,” he said briefly, and that had been quick. But then, Koti was quick.
They stood to leave, but halfway to the door, Hannah sagged again. Drew gave an exclamation, swept her up in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way, the remainder of the group trailing along behind.
Koti was parked in a yellow-striped zone outside the cinema, out of the car and waiting, paying not a bit of attention to parking regulations. A crowd had formed out there too, to which Drew paid absolutely no attention. Koti had the door open, and Drew set Hannah gently into the back seat, shut her door, strode around the car and got in.
A break in the traffic, and Koti was moving off, and that was it.
“Wow,” Kate said, exhaling a bit as they watched it go. “Why can’t she have a baby without all that excitement? I’m exhausted. I just hope she’s OK.”
“Hospital’s only twenty minutes away,” Hemi said. “I don’t think she’s actually going to have it in the car. But it won’t be long.” He turned to Reka. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeh,” she said. “I do.” She looked at Kate. “Want to go with Hemi and me to the hospital?”
Just Once More (Escape to New Zealand Book 7) Page 13
