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I threw the comforter from my body and checked the bathroom first. Our baby was pushing down on Antoine’s bladder more than ever lately, causing him to run to the bathroom several times an hour.
Except he wasn’t there.
As I walked into the living room, I noticed movement outside. Antoine was pacing the back porch with a cup of tea in his hand. He was wearing one of my T-shirts and a pair of my boxers. He refused to buy paternity clothes or even paternity boxers, so he’d somehow taken over my clothes instead. Not that I cared one bit.
“Hey,” I said, walking out the back door. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing? This little one is tumbling inside me. Their foot in my ribs was my breaking point. I had to get up.”
“And this is helping?” I walked over and checked the temperature of his tea. It was halfway gone and no longer hot.
“No? Yes? I don’t know. It gave me something to concentrate on. I’m telling you, West, this little one is a gymnast or an acrobat. Something.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.” I put my hands on the sides of his belly and tried to communicate with our babe. I’d heard tales of shifters being able to bond with their babes before they were born but had no idea if it would work. Antoine was getting more and more uncomfortable in his body. It was hard for him to do most things.
He was thirty-two weeks along, which was long for a fox and a polar bear according to Quinn.
“Little one,” I cooed, trying to use my alpha power on him. “Calm down for your papa. He’s tired and wants to rest.”
“Oh.” Antoine looked at me with wide eyes. “That kind of worked. Keep talking to him.”
We sat on our porch swing, and I continued to talk to our cub in low tones, even putting my mouth near Antoine’s belly.
“I think I need a nap now,” he said. “I’m completely drained today, West.”
“That’s okay. You’re cooking a baby.”
He nodded and smiled at me. I helped him off the porch swing, when he stopped and cried out my name.
“What is it?” I asked.
“My water…”
My gaze darted to the porch floor where a puddle formed under my omega.
I could see the fear creeping up. Eyes wide. Color draining from his face. Mouth agape. “Everything is going to be okay, Antoine. We are prepared for this. I’m going to call the healer to come over. You are so strong and capable. Our baby is coming.”
“I need to shower,” he said more a whisper than anything.
“Let me call the healer and then we’ll get you into the shower. Let’s stay calm. I love you so much.”
He smiled at me with tears in his eyes. “I love you. Let’s have a baby.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Antoine
We’d chosen the home birth plan, with the healer present, but when Quinn did not get there right away, I began to overthink the whole idea. At the birthing center, there were more tools available to me if I ran into trouble. “Do you think we should go to the center?” I asked “In case something goes wrong?”
West smiled at me. “Quinn will be here in a few minutes, so even if we left now, we’d pass him on the road. How are you doing, omega?”
“Not too bad, so far. Just a little scared.”
“You’ve got this. And if Quinn even suggests we go, we’ll leave immediately, okay?”
We had everything ready as the healer had suggested, and for all his soothing words, West kept going to the window and looking out.
“Any sign of him?” It had been well over a few minutes.
