Ready For It (MacAteer Brothers Book 2)

by ML Nystrom

  “Call your mom to come get you.”

  “She goes to the grocery store when I’m here gettin’ tutored.”

  “That has nothing to do with the price of eggs in China.”

  “Huh?”

  He missed my sarcasm completely, and I was out of patience. “Call. Your. Mom. Now!”

  He pulled out his phone and dropped it twice before he was able to place the call. My phone was on the counter, and before I got there, a low pain twisted in my stomach. I puffed and counted while my student panicked.

  “Oh, shit! I mean shoot! Uh… no, not you, mom. Miss Miser. She’s having the baby. Right now. Can you come get me?”

  I didn’t pay attention to him as the pain faded and I took a full breath. Fuck me, if this was the beginning, I wanted drugs. Lots of them.

  I texted Owen twice before I figured out he was probably driving and couldn’t answer me. I tapped his icon to call him, and another contraction hit me as the line connected. Owen got an earful of my hee-hee-heeing breaths.

  “Almost eight minutes apart. Fuck, this is a lot faster than the book said it would be. Hee-hee-hee. Where are you?” I hated the whine in my voice, but dammit, that fucking hurt! It felt like a big fist just grabbed my abdomen in a vise.

  “Driveway.”

  A moment later, he was there, holding me and pressing into my back.

  “Gary? Are you ready?”

  Thank God his mom came quickly, or else I would have left his ass alone at my house.

  “How did he do tonight? Do you want me to pay you now or next week?”

  This woman gave birth at least once. Did she not recognize what was going on here? “Next week, please,” I gasped out as the contraction eased.

  Owen glanced at his watch and frowned. “Go now.”

  The woman blinked as her son gathered his books and papers and stuffed them haphazardly into a backpack. “That’s a little rude, doncha think?”

  “I’m in active labor, Mrs. Tharpe.”

  She flipped her hand. Actually flipped it. “Oh fiddle, you’ve got hours before that happens.”

  Owen didn’t bother mincing any more words. He wrapped his arms around me and took my weight against him as we hobbled to his truck. I panted the entire short trip, hoping either mother or son had enough sense to lock up when they left.

  The ride to the hospital was cut in half with Owen driving. I huffed and puffed and moaned the whole time. He hit the Bluetooth icon, and the cab filled with the buzzing ring of the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Bevvie!” I cried out, “I need you, I… oh shit… hee-hee-hee.”

  “Hospital. Now.” Owen contributed.

  “Got it. I’m on the way. I’ll text Connor to let him know. Abby will stay with the kids tonight. Have you called the hospital to tell them you’re on the way?”

  “Not. Yet. Would you mind?”

  “I can do that for you. How far apart?”

  Another conctraction hit me. Fuck, this hurts!

  “I… hee-hee-hee… think maybe… hee-hee-hee… five minutes?”

  “Shit, that was fast.”

  “You’re telling me! I thought this was supposed to take a day or two. I… hee-hee-heeeee!”

  Owen pulled up to the circular drive of the emergency entrance and parked.

  “You can’t… hee-hee-hee… leave the truck here. It will get towed.”

  “Don’t care.”

  One look at me was all it took for the nurse to send us straight to the back. They plopped me in a wheelchair and whisked me away. No forms, clipboards, insurance cards—my red face and puffing breaths was enough. Owen followed me to a partitioned-off spot, and the nurse whipped the curtain closed. Two more nurses appeared, and I was unceremoniously stripped of my clothes and draped with sheets.

  Another pain ripped through my belly. Fuck me sideways, this is cramps on super steroids! “Owen!”

  He was right there by my side, holding my hand, his lips to my sweating forehead, hee-heeing with me. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,” I cried.

  “Never.”

  “I mean it. Hee-hee-hee. I need you.”

  “Always here.”

  A steel band wrapped around my middle and tightened. I had no control. “I need some goddamn drugs! Where’s the fucking guy with the spinal thingy?”

  It was a wonder I didn’t crush Owen’s hand. He held on for dear life as I hee-hee-heed through another hard contraction. Tears fell down his face and dripped to mingle with mine. “I’m sorry, Mel. I w-w-wish I could take some of this f-f-for you.”

  The on-call doctor finally showed up, and from his appearance he graduated school sometime last week. High school, that was.

  “Okay, Miss Miser, I understand we’re having a baby today?”

  I’d left my patience back at my house along with my hospital bag. “No shit, Sherlock! Hee-hee-hee! You might want to join the party, like now!”

  Owen growled.

  The Doogie Howser wannabe calmly pulled up a stool and lifted the drape between my spread thighs. His startled yelp was the last thing I wanted or expected to hear. “Oh my God, you’re crowning already. Too late for an epidural.”

  Crowning? What the fuck? No drugs? I thought labor took hours. Days, even. I puffed and puffed and puffed. “I need to push. I gotta push.”

  “Yeah, okay, Miss Miser. At the next—”

  My cry cut him off as the tightest, hardest contraction hit me and my entire body strained with effort. I left permanent impressions in Owen’s hand as I gripped him. I might have even broken a few bones. He placed an arm around my back and helped me bow in half as I was ripped apart.

  “Love you, Mel. Love you, baby. You got this. Breathe.”

  Other voices in the room faded into background noise as the entire universe focused on one event.

  “Oh my God, the head’s out already.”

  “Textbook always said it would be more.”

  “I suspect neither she nor the baby read the textbook. Check the cord. Quick before the next contraction.”

  “Get ready to catch.”

  “Damn, this one is fast!”

  “Here it comes.”

  I felt a giant lump slide from my body, and my internal organs shifted. I took the first full breath I’d had in months as my body returned to me. The pain disappeared into a dull ache, and my muscles relaxed. A sense of euphoria washed over me, and for a moment, I floated in the air.

  Then the mewling cry of a baby reached my ears. My baby. My baby boy.

  “Eight pounds, two ounces. Sixteen inches long. APGAR test nine. Jeez, he’s a big one!”

  A wrinkled little alien covered in cheese was placed on my softened stomach. His scrunched-up red face and open mouth announced to the world he was here and not happy about it. I didn’t blame him, as I’d be upset too if I was forced out of a cushy warm place where I got constant room service. I touched his back, and he quieted into little whimpers.

  My world had arrived. I had a son. My son. My little boy. The little boy I would teach, nurture, and bring into manhood. This is my son. I couldn’t contain it. The emotion poured out of my eyes. I turned them to meet Owen’s beautiful green ones. I had no words. None.

  I didn’t need them.

  Owen leaned down and brushed his lips over mine in what was not just a kiss. It was more. It was a promise. A promise of being by my side. A promise of dinner at home, lawn maintenance, chaperoning, babysitting. A promise of a lifetime commitment.

  He loved me. This wonderful, quiet man loved me and loved my child.

  The kiss was light and brief, but it burst in my heart with a bazillion sparkles of light.

  “Ryan,” Owen whispered brokenly. He still held my hand while his streaming eyes were on the perfect little human lying on me. “Ryan. Little king. Once he made up his mind, he hurried to get here.”

  I smiled. “Ryan. I like it.”

  The nurses took Ryan to clean him up, and the doctor finished taking
care of me. Fatigue set in. Damn, no wonder they called it labor. That shit was serious work.

  I didn’t make it to the fancy delivery rooms with all the pretty pictures of babies on the walls. I delivered right there in an emergency room bay. The nurses kept remarking about how quick my labor went as they wheeled me up to the maternity floor, baby Ryan wrapped in a sheet and sitting in my arms.

  “Damndest thing I ever seen. That baby wanted to be born somethin’ fierce.”

  “I think you done set a record here at the hospital. First timer, too.”

  I didn’t know how to take that sentence. “Um… thanks?”

  One nurse had rich brown skin and long micro braids with translucent and raspberry-colored beads hanging from the ends. She tossed them with a rattle over her shoulder. “I’m not too sure about hospital records, but you were only active for about forty minutes or so. Might be, you were in labor a couple days and didn’t know it.”

  “Maybe. Where’s Owen?”

  “Your husband stayed downstairs to sign some papers.”

  “We’re not married.”

  “Oh? Shoot, anyone can see that man is a husband whether or not there’s a ring on his finger.”

  God, am I ready for that? Nope, not yet. I just truly became a mom. I’d think about wife later.

  It didn’t take long before I got settled into a room. It had a portable wheelie box that looked like an under-the-bed Rubbermaid container for Ryan, but I held him in my arms and watched his movements in fascination. My heart overflowed with sheer joy.

  Bevvie came in, and both of us boo-hooed at each other. “Oh, Mellie-Jellie, you’re a mom now.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s so pretty.”

  “He’s my little boy.”

  “I’m gonna cry again.”

  “You haven’t stopped since you came in the room.”

  “I’m not going to either.”

  We sniffed, snorted, and cooed, while Ryan made baby faces and squirmed. He made a grunting noise and suddenly stretched out all four limbs in a very familiar action.

  “Oooh, I see you now, booger,” I told him as I recognized his favorite move.

  Owen walked in the room with a plastic bag of complimentary hospital stuff and came right to me. He kissed me and took my hand as Bevvie and I continued our blubbering.

  An administrator followed him in with a giant-sized clipboard. “How are you feeling, Miss Miser?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Wonderful, and congratulations on your baby. I heard you set a record for the fastest delivery in this hospital.”

  “I’m expecting a call from Guinness records any time now.”

  Confusion appeared on her face as she didn’t get my joke at first, and then she finally barked out a light laugh. “I’m sure they will contact you soon. In the meantime, I need your signature on some forms.”

  Bevvie sniffed one more time. “I’ll leave you alone to get your business done and then get some rest. I’ll run by your house to get your bag and be back tomorrow. Okay?”

  I nodded while the forms woman stood patiently. Owen didn’t say a word but leaned down to gently pick up Ryan out of my arms so I could sign. After the woman left, he continued to hold my baby, cradling my son’s tiny form in his huge arms. I watched as one tiny hand grabbed an offered finger.

  “Do you want him back, or do you want to nap a bit? Bevvie’s right that you need rest. Ryan and I will be here when you wake up.”

  Fatigue suddenly made my eyes droop. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. Please wake me if you need to.”

  He brought Ryan over to me for a quick cuddle and kiss. I noticed my baby’s eyes were drooping too. “Being born is hard work, isn’t it? Love you, Peanut.”

  Owen laid the drowsy baby in the crib where I could see him and came back to sit with me on the bed. He took my hand in his and held it softly. “I’ve never had many words to say to anyone. I should probably have words to say now, but I can’t think of any other than I love you.” His eyes rose to mine. “I love you, Melanie.”

  I sleepily smiled at him. “I love you too, Owen.”

  Owen leaned back in the hospital recliner. His large frame barely fit in the flimsy piece of furniture, but no way would he leave that room until Melanie did the following day. Connor, Bevvie, and the kids planned on going to the house first thing later this morning to check the readiness of everything. Diapers stacked, new baby clothes washed and in the dresser, sheets on the crib, food in the fridge, and whatever else they would need for the next few days.

  He looked over at the sleeping woman, who gave a light snore and rolled over. The nurse had removed the IV earlier to make the rest of the night more comfortable. A pamphlet of aftercare instructions lay on the oblong table near the baby’s crib along with a how-to card on breast feeding. Giving birth in real life was not nearly as pretty as in the movies, and Owen’s respect for women deepened further after watching this miracle firsthand.

  Ryan squeaked and shifted, catching Owen’s attention. He rose from the chair and walked as quietly as he could to the plastic crib. The newborn’s eyes were open, and his face scrunched up as if trying to decide whether to cry or go back to sleep. Owen squirted some hand sanitizer in his palms and rubbed them together before lifting the tiny bundle. He figured this would be the first of many long sleepless nights that he and Melanie would have. Ryan smacked his lips and stretched as Owen stood in one spot and swayed.

  A slight creaking noise had Owen looking up from his perusal of the infant’s face. He assumed it would be a doctor or the night nurse coming to check on Melanie. Instead, it was the last person he ever expected to see again.

  Martin Miser entered the room. He didn’t blink an eye when he spotted Owen holding the tiny bundle.

  “I heard she had a boy.”

  Owen continued to sway, but his protective instincts kicked into high gear. He dipped his chin. “Ryan.”

  The man looked at the sleeping form of his daughter and visibly swallowed. “May I see him?”

  Owen hesitated before leaning over and allowing the man to see his grandson.

  The man gazed silently at the next generation of his family. His eyes shone wetly, but no tears fell. He sniffed before he spoke. “I planned on leaving Deloris. I married her because of Magnus and stayed because of Melanie. I blamed her for decades because her birth made me stay in a loveless marriage. No prenup meant if I left my wife and two children, Deloris could take me to the cleaners. Leaving now would be no different. I spent a lot of time cheating on Deloris and made no attempt to hide it from her. She has all the proof she needs to take half of everything we own, but she still wanted to stay married to me. Not from love. More for appearances and reputation.”

  His eyes stayed on the tiny bundle in Owen’s arms. “When you pointed that finger in my face and said ‘your daughter. Shame on you’ I started thinking. Yes, I do have a daughter. I’ve never thought of Melanie in that way before. I always considered her Magnus’s sister or the second child, but she is my daughter. One I ought to be proud of. I don’t know if reconciliation is possible now, or if she would even welcome me into her life. The only reason I found out she started labor is from a colleague in the ER.”

  Hearing the man’s confessions didn’t rank high on Owen’s list of priorities, but he continued to sway with Ryan in his arms and listen to the older man.

  “I can’t make up for the past. I can, however, do something for the future. I’m not so stupid to think you’ll take any money from me, so I set up a trust for the baby. Melanie is named as the custodian, and she’ll have access to it should the need arise. Keep the money for Ryan’s college or whatever might be needed someday.”

  Owen bristled. “Don’t need your money.”

  “I know that. I still want you to take it for the baby. He’s my only grandchild and likely the only one I’ll ever have.”

  “Magnus.”

  Martin shook his head. “Not many people know this, b
ut Magnus is gay. I never accepted it and spent so many of his childhood and teenage years trying to force it out of him. I was wrong, and now I’ve turned him into a bitter, unhappy man who hates everyone around him. Especially his sister.”

  The man, once a powerhouse in the world, suddenly looked old and defeated. Owen could relate, as his own father showed signs of aging and becoming something other than the tough old bastard he grew up with.

  Martin took a big breath let it out slow. “You’ll take care of her?”

  Owen gave one nod. “Getting a ring. Want more kids.”

  “You going to adopt this one?”

  “Yes. Ryan Miser MacAteer.”

  Martin’s jaw flexed as if fighting for control. Owen couldn’t blame him too much. How else did you react when finding out your family name was being replaced? Owen had no sympathy for him, though. After all, you reaped what you sowed.

  The older man finally spoke. “You’ll make her happy.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Owen didn’t think he needed to respond, but he did anyway. “All my life.”

  Martin swallowed again and nodded as if affirming what he already knew. “Please tell her I came by and I’d like to visit again.” He left the room and quietly clicked the door shut.

  Owen looked at Melanie, still sleeping soundly, completely unaware she’d had a middle-of-the-night visitor. He noticed Ryan had fallen back asleep. Owen placed the baby back in the crib and sat down in the recliner. He closed his eyes and let his brain drift.

  Melanie MacAteer. Ryan MacAteer. Mary MacAteer. Regan MacAteer….

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Who’s got a stinky butt? Who’s got a stinky-stinky butt-butt?”

  Ryan grinned up at me with his two miniscule bottom teeth showing and waved his hands. My son had some serious talent when it came to pooping. He had an astounding variety of colors, consistencies, and volumes. This beautiful calm Saturday morning, Ryan had had a fecal explosion. It overfilled his diaper, shot up his back, leaked out of his onesie, and totally coated the baby swing chair. Coincidentally, it was the first time I’d ever seen fear in Owen’s eyes. The man’s face went white as a bleached sheet, and he had to leave the room.