Rogue (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 1) by Laura Marie Altom Page B

found you a bed.”
    Her only answer was a moan.
    He picked the back door lock, and stepped into a world time had forgotten.
    For once, he was happy about federal budget cuts. It looked like they had this place to themselves—aside from the odd rodent or two.
    Sure enough, there was a lone bed, so he brushed it off as best he could, then layered it in the towels he’d snatched from Mildred. Next, he carried in Maisey, resting her near the end of the sagging mattress.
    Trying to remain clinical, he slipped more towels beneath her, then mounded the comforter behind her for a pillow.
    After a quick trip to the truck for bottled water, he pulled over a small bench, parking it at the foot of the bed in case he needed it when the baby came.
    For now, Nash rinsed his hands, then dampened a washcloth he’d found mixed with the towels. When he rested it on Maisey’s forehead, she gifted him with a faint smile.
    “Give me a sec,” he said, beyond flustered when she bore down, “to research emergency childbirth.”
    “No—just hold me. Please .” Her pained and pleading expression gutted him. In that moment, Nash had never felt more helpless, yet more determined to see her baby’s delivery safely through.
    He wrapped his arm around her slight shoulders and held one of her hands. She squeezed tight enough to cut off his circulation, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but bringing her whatever comfort he could.
    “Remember back in the swamp?” he asked, “When you said you loved me, but I was a dick and said I didn’t love you?”
    “K-kinda hard to forget.” She shook from the force of her latest push.
    “Yeah . . . Well, I lied. I’ve always loved you, but since Hope died, everything’s screwed up in my head.” Tears stung his eyes, and he found himself hating Vicente more than ever—not merely for being certifiable, but for landing her in this situation. She deserved better than giving birth in a musty-smelling old shack. A long time ago, she’d been his world. He’d have done anything for her, and he still would. He’d harbored such resentment toward her for turning down his proposal that he’d been open to a new relationship with Hope, whom he’d met a couple years after BUD/S training.
    “I could have told you that.” She managed a teary laugh. “T-tell me about her.”
    “No way. We should focus on you.”
    “I’m sick of— arrrgggghh .” She squeezed his hand still tighter. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!”
    “Sorry. Lean into me.” Nash tossed aside the comforter, repositioning himself to sit behind her like he’d seen guys do in Lamaze pamphlets. With her back against his chest, he felt her every shuddering effort. “Better?”
    She nodded. “T-Tell me about her. I need a distraction.”
    “Okay . . .” Where did he begin? “She was different from you. Tall, corporate-career-focused, with freckles and red hair and the temper to go along with it. She was always yelling at me for leaving a trail of dirty clothes and dishes.”
    Maisey managed a laugh. “I like her.”
    “She wanted kids. Bad. She came from a big family—was the youngest of eight brothers and sisters, and all of them already had big families. Over holidays, they’d razz us about being slow in the baby-making department, so when she found out she was pregnant, I’d never seen her happier.”
    “ Arrrggghhh !” She fought extra hard through her latest push. “H-How did you tell her family? Were they excited?”
    “Over the moon.” For a moment, Nash squeezed his eyes shut, recalling how Hope had wrapped her positive pregnancy test in a gift box for him. “For her parents, she’d had me help her fill a big box with pink and blue helium-filled balloons. It was close to their anniversary, and we wrapped it in silver-foil paper. When those balloons rose from the box, her mother shrieked, then burst into tears. It was a seriously great moment.”
    “I’ll bet. Did—” She stopped talking to make a terrifying