1
The sound of a woman screaming in agony was not what Trevor MacLaughlin expected to hear on a quiet Tuesday morning at the office.
His chair hit the wall with a heavy thud. He raced to the lobby. Karen Ramsey, his best friend’s wife, was hunched over her desk, her face twisted in pain. She wasn’t due for two weeks. Apparently the baby was calling an audible.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
He ran to Karen’s side. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard enough to cut off his circulation and pop a few joints.
“Karen?”
She sucked in a few more breaths and wheezed, gradually releasing her death-grip on his hand. He flexed it, popping his knuckles back into alignment. Damn, she was strong.
“I thought they were just Braxton Hicks last night, bu—”
He winced. Her fingers clamped down hard and another wail filled the small office.
The growling scream tapered off and she glanced up, meeting his gaze. “I guess I was wrong,” she finished, so matter-of-factly, like she hadn't just been screaming bloody murder.
“Braxton what?” he asked without thinking.
“Oh don’t worry, just get my bag out of the coat closet. I need a ride to the hospital.”
He stared. His brain hadn’t quite caught up with the situation. He’d known Karen for years and she never complained about anything. All the MacLaughlin brothers had watched over her during the pregnancy. Logan, her husband, had been deployed when she was twelve weeks along.
They’d brought her food everyday. Drove her to and from work and coddled her in every way they could devise. They discovered early, if they kept her fed and pampered she purred like a kitten 24/7. Even their mom and sister teased them about doting on her too much. But in their eyes, Karen was just an extension of the family and she’d kept MacLaughlin Corp. running smoothly for the past six years.
“Trevor! Now!”
Her snarl snapped him out of his daze.
“Unless you’d rather deliver this baby yourself?”
“No, ma’am.” He moved swiftly to the closet, retrieved her overnight bag, and was back at her side in seconds.
He walked her slowly out to his big dually pick-up, parked in the front lot, lifted her up, and placed her gently into the passenger seat. After clipping her seatbelt into place, he hurried around the truck and climbed in next to her.
They weren’t far from the hospital. Ten minutes and three contractions later, he whisked her through the sliding emergency room door.
“Call my mother before you come into the delivery room,” she hollered as the nurses wheeled her down the hallway.
“Into the…Karen,” he gulped. “I don’t know if—”
“You call my mom, Trevor MacLaughlin and get your ass in here with me until she arrives. I’m not doing this alone!”
Another contraction hit and he cringed at her howl of pain. He turned and headed toward the waiting area to call her mom.
“Son of a philandering toad bastard’s mo—” The hallway doors swung shut, cutting off her rant.
He shook his head and smiled. Her curses were legendary in the office. They usually ended up being funnier than they ever were mean.
He swiped the screen on his phone and looked up her mother’s number. No way was he going in that delivery room. Logan would kill him.
The phone rang on the other end of the line and a soft voice spoke.
“Trevor?”
“Mrs. DeGault, your daughter is in labor and asking me to go in with her to the delivery. Which I’m not ve—”
“You just park it in the lobby, young man. I’ll be there in five, I was already halfway to the office.”
Thank the Lord!
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Lorelei Ward curled into the armchair of her daddy’s office and smiled. He was busy scrawling notes on a pad of paper, paying no heed to her sitting with her tablet watching him. She pulled the colorful afghan wrapped around her shoulders tighter. Winter had come to Texas early this year and everyone had already dug out their sweatshirts
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