Page 10 of Sterling Heat

The bell above the entrance door tinkles. “We’re closed,” he barks. “Get out.” The doorbell ting-a-lings again as whoever entered races away.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, clenching my teeth as another contraction begins.

“Do not apologize,” Vale warns. “This is nature at her best.”

“Shouldn’t nature happen in a hospital?” Sebastian strains.

“Shut up, Seb.” Vale pauses.

The loose shift dress I am wearing has fallen to my hips and Vale gingerly removes my soaked underwear. She lifts the skirt of the dress, draping it over my bent knees for some privacy but all decency has gone out the door along with the frightened-off customer.

Vale’s eyes meet mine. “Do you need to push?”

“No,” Sebastian growls.

“I think so,” I say as my body does what it needs to do, contracting again. I try to lift my upper half, but I don’t have the strength. Sebastian slips behind me, setting my shoulder blades to rest against him. From behind me, he swipes a hand over my forehead. A kiss comes to the top of my head.

Vale and I catch gazes. Her eyes widen while I’m simply stunned by the tenderness.

“She’s going to have the baby right here,” she warns the man behind me.

“No,” he grits out.

“Yes.” She narrows her eyes back at him.

My jaw locks. My molars grind. I hiss as another wave of pain clenches my center.

“I can see the head,” Vale announces.

“You’re doing good, Enya. Great job.” Sebastian’s encouragement is a little stiff, but I don’t need a cheerleader. I need my baby out of me.

“Rena, bring me some hand sanitizer.” A moment pauses. Vale shifts on the bench. “Where did she go?”

“Dammit.” Vale stands. “I need to wash my hands.” She rushes toward the back of the bakery.

I hunch forward again, moaning like an animal.

“Are you pushing?” Sebastian strains behind me.

“I can’t help it. She wants out.”

“She?” he whispers.

Through gritted teeth, I grunt, “I’m having a girl.”

“Vale,” Sebastian yells.

“Something’s happening,” I stress.

“Fuck.” Sebastian lowers me to my back and scoots around me. With my feet on the bench, knees spread wide, and my dress at my hips, he sits in a precarious position, but his eyes stay focused on my face. “I won’t look.”

“I’m not certain how that will help.” My intention is to tease him, lighten the moment as best I can, but another wallop of pain rushes up my center.

“You’re doing great, beautiful.” His voice is full of strain despite the compliment.

I huff as beautiful does not describe my current situation.

Then he yells over his shoulder, “Vale!”