by Aspen Grey
“This is bad,” I told him, feeling more blood spilling out of him.
“I’ll be fine,” he smiled. “Your man’s no wimp.”
“My man’s not immortal either,” I said softly.
The front door banged and two sets of footsteps raced up the hall. Jamie entered the bedroom, followed immediately by a tiny woman with a mass of dirty blond hair, almost an afro.
“The baby’s coming,” Jamie said quickly, kneeling down beside Preston and taking over for me. “Tasha, Kenneth. Kenneth, Tasha.”
“Hi,” I groaned as another contraction slammed into me.
Tasha didn’t reply, just immediately came over to me and put a hand on my stomach.
“How many contractions?” she asked.
“Too many,” I replied, trying not to be overwhelmed by the pain.
“Very funny,” she said, moving to the bottom of the bed. With a quick motion, she had my pants off. I was too wrapped up in the moment to be embarrassed. “Okay, this baby’s coming!”
I looked over at Preston with a big smile on my face, but his eyes were drooping. Jamie was working frantically on his back, but I could see he was losing consciousness. I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Preston,” I said softly. “It’s going to be okay. Our baby boy is coming!”
“Mmmm,” he groaned, raising his eyes to mine. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too!” I replied, choking back tears.
“Okay, I need you to push, Kenneth!” Tasha told me firmly. Another contraction hit me – a fist corkscrewing through my insides.
“Is he going to be okay!?” I asked, gripping Preston tightly. His head lolled to the side and I cried out. “Jamie!?”
“Push, Kenneth!” Tasha shouted. “You have to push now!”
Overwhelmed with emotions, I tilted my head back, cried out and pushed. “Aaaaah!”
28
Kenneth
I couldn’t stop crying.
Tasha and Jamie kept telling me it was a natural response to holding my first child, but I still couldn’t help but feel like I was being overly emotional.
Little baby Schuyler, I thought as I looked down at his beautiful sleeping face. I couldn’t get over how soft he was, and the pink shade of his skin. He must have been dreaming about something. His little legs were moving around and his hand was brushing aimlessly by his lips.
“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” I asked him softly, petting his head. I felt like I was going to break him. Tasha kept telling me not to worry about it.
“Babies are a lot tougher than you think,” she’d said.
She was probably right, but after what had happened to Preston I couldn’t help but be a little overprotective.
I looked over to the bed where he was sleeping, curled up on his side like he had to be to make sure he didn’t tear his stitches. He’d passed out when I gave birth, and the boys had thrown him in the truck and rushed him to the hospital. There was only so much Jamie was able to do.
Tasha had helped me deliver Schuyler, and Preston, against doctor’s wishes, had checked himself out of the hospital an hour later and rushed home to be with us. He was struggling to keep it together, but he needed to see his son.
We spent as much time as we could together, fawning over Schuyler, before he had to pass out. I needed a rest too, and drifted in and out of sleep as long as I could before Schuyler had to feed again.
It was incredible the feelings that I’d discovered after bringing him into the world. Being a father like that was something no one can prepare you for. You hear stories as you grow up, of course, from other people, from your parents, but it never prepares you for the reality of things.
Preston’s parents were on their way down to see him. Jamie and Chuck were preparing a big feast for everyone. Juan had brought down a massive dining room table that barely fit in the living room. I think we had all realized that the house was going to need some more expansion if it was going to fit everyone.
Despite it being fall, it was an abnormally hot day, so I’d stayed inside instead of heading out to the porch. The boys were working on the irrigation system with Frank – something too technical for me, but it had to do with a more efficient way of getting the water to the two new fields they had cordoned off.
“How you doing?” I heard Jamie ask from the doorway. I looked up to see her coming in, her eyes on my baby boy curled up in my arms. “How’s he?”
“We’re both good,” I told her, twisting him so she could get a better view. “His other dad’s resting.”
“He needs it,” Jamie nodded. She leaned down and petted Schuyler’s hand and chuckled. “I can never get over their tiny little fingers!”
“I know!” I laughed. “It doesn’t even seem possible for them to be so little!”
“Preston’s folks should be here any time,” she told me. “Do you want me to hold him while you get cleaned up?”
“What are you saying?” I joked. “That I look like a complete and total mess?”
“Nooooo,” she giggled. “Just a minor mess.”
“Thanks a lot,” I replied as I gently handed Schuyler over to her. I stepped into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Jamie was right. I looked like someone had stuffed me in a closet for a week and fed me nothing but crackers.
My hair was a complete matted down mess, my eyes had huge bags under them and my skin looked like it had about a week’s worth of sweat and grime caked over it.
“Yuck,” I grimaced, turning on the shower. I didn’t even bother letting the water heat up. The cold invigorated me as I scrubbed every inch of my body with the bar of basil soap Tasha had brought with her. I’d never even heard of basil soap before, but it was divine.
I finished up quickly, wrapped myself in a towel and stepped back into the bedroom.
“Better?” I asked. Jamie nodded.
“Much.”
“Do you mind – turning around?” I asked her as I stepped over to the closet.
“Why?” she teased. “Worried about getting a poor girl’s juices flowin’?”
“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” I grinned.
“Just you wait,” she laughed. “I’ll get you over to the dark side one day.”
Despite her jokes, she did avert her eyes while I got dressed. As I was finishing buttoning my jeans, I heard the sound of a car outside. I leaned down and gently woke Preston with a kiss.
“Sweetie. Your parents are here.”
Preston stirred and smiled as his eyes opened and he looked at me. He winced as he sat up. I still felt terrible about what happened, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was back to one hundred percent, but he’d get there.
If there was one thing I’d learned about my mate, it was that I could rely on him. Completely and utterly. Preston would never fail me – never let me down.
He’d been there to save me from Jasper that first night at R7, and then again and again and again, no matter what the cost was to himself. He’d brought everyone together, formed his own pack out here on the farm, and now we were building something. All of us.
We’d talked about building a place for his folks, once the money started to come in. We’d have to get all the fields up and producing first, of course, so it wouldn’t be immediately, but it would be nice to have everyone within walking distance.
“Mmmm,” Preston groaned as he got his feet under him. “Okay, I’m up. I’m up.”
Schuyler squealed gently and I went over to Jamie and took him from her.
“I think he wants his papa,” she said with a smile.
“Ooooh,” I cooed, kissing his plump little cheeks. “Papa’s here.”
When I thought back to the loss of my parents and my ridiculous plan I’d formulated afterwards, Boston seemed so, so far away. I’d wanted to get away, start fresh, reinvent myself. That’s why I’d gone to R7 in the first place – to be someone I wasn’t. But meeting Preston had showed
me that that wasn’t me. What I’d really wanted was love, and that was what I’d found.
“Come on,” I told Preston. “Let’s go show your son to your parents.”
Epilogue
Preston
Four months later…
Shifter babies progress much faster than human babies, and Schuyler was certainly no exception. He was already crawling around like a terror, laughing as he made his way all over the house, under tables and chairs, over the couch and coffee table, and all manner of places that had me wanting to tear my hair out.
Thank God we had a big pack to keep an eye out.
I’d baby-proofed the whole place, which had taken forever. All the sharp corners had to be sanded down or covered up with something soft. Cabinets had to be baby-proofed so he couldn’t get under the sink and drink some drain cleaner or something awful, and big things like bowls and lamps had to be carefully positioned so he wouldn’t yank a cord and pull something down onto his head.
Taking him outside was the easiest thing. Cover him up with sunscreen, put a big old sun hat on him and set him loose. Chuck had picked up a dog, a Blue Lacy, with short charcoal colored fur, named Scout, and she was absolutely fascinated with Schuyler. At first we’d been hesitant to let her around him. She’d sniffed at him for a second, and he’d giggled and waved his hand at her nose, but when she crouched forward and stuck her butt up in the air, showing him she wanted to play, we knew everything would be fine.
And that’s what he was doing while I sat on the porch and barked orders to the boys who were working on the new walk cobblestone walk we were building leading up to the house from the driveway.
I’d done the heavy lifting this morning while Schuyler was feeding, marking out the edges, setting up the buckets of stone dust used to make a solid bed for the cobblestones. Now the boys were hammering them in one at a time. I’d join them in a few, after I finished my beer.
“We’re so proud of you,” my mom said, putting her hand on my knee for the fiftieth time. “It’s incredible what you’ve done with this place.”
“Well, I’ve had a lot of help,” I said with a smile to Kenneth who was sitting on the other side of me. My dad was in a wicker chair across from me, watching Schuyler play with Scout.
“Your boy’s gonna be a tough one,” he remarked. “Look how easy he gets around.”
“Gonna have to get him on the football team,” I mused.
“How’s this lookin’, boss?” Terry asked sarcastically, standing up and gazing down at his work. They had about a quarter of the cobblestones laid and were doing great, but of course, I had to hassle him a little bit.
“Looks like something my son could have done,” I jeered. “You call that a good job?”
“How about you get off your rusty dusty and come down here and show us then?” he retorted. I stretched lazily and got to my feet.
“So, you need the big tuna to come and show you how a man does a job, eh? Okay. I guess I can do that.”
Leaning down, I kissed Kenneth on the lips, leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I’m gonna tear that up later.”
Kenneth grinned and whispered back. “You better.”
I made my way down the steps and over to my son, who was doing his best to rip Scout’s ear off. She was taking it well, just pulling away gently every time he did it. No matter how much of a pain in her butt he was, Scout would never nip at him.
“Hey, leave that girl alone!” I told Schuyler as I scooped him up into my arms. I lifted his shirt and kissed him all over his belly, pushing air out of my mouth to tickle him. He giggled and squirmed. His little laugh was the cutest thing in the world to me.
I set him back down by Scout, who immediately started nuzzling him, and joined the rest of the pack. My hammer was right there where I left it. I grabbed it, took a cobble from the stack, set it down and started pounding it in place.
“See that?” I grinned as Terry knelt down beside me. “That’s how you do it.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Perfection,” Juan joked from across from me.
“Preston’s good at everything,” Chuck laughed. I heard the door to the house open and Jamie’s voice ring out.
“You boys want some lemonade?” she asked.
“Sure do,” Chuck called back.
“Everybody wants some so I’ll just bring the whole jug out here. Sound good?”
I looked around. Everyone seemed on board with the idea. “Sounds good, Jamie.”
“Righto!”
It was hard to believe that only a few months ago I’d been completely alone out here. The farm had been a place I’d been forced to go to escape. I’d lost all hope of finding friends, let alone a mate.
But after what had happened to Jasper, his family had left us alone. He was the only real violent one among them. They’d tried to convince Frank to sell them the land, kick us out, but it was too late. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d run into any trouble from them in the future, but for now at least, everything was on the up and up.
Eight years of being alone. But those eight years had led me to the love of my life, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
The farm was growing, I’d started a family, and I could only see things getting better. I looked up at my parents, sitting beside my mate, and my son playing on the grass in front of my house, and felt like I’d stumbled into a dream.
This is my life, I thought, reminding myself as I did every day. And it’s perfect.
The end.
Scent of the Author
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