Merry Christmas, Baby Page 9

Ford laughed. “The man’s a sucker.”

“The man’s got to be insane to still want me.”

“Chloe, look at me.”

He waited until she lifted her head and met his gaze. “He’s taking these jobs because he wants to build the addition to your house for the baby, not because he wants to be away from you.”

“Are you sure?” Chloe asked with what she thought was a perfectly even voice, proud to think she was hiding her fear that it wasn’t true, that Sawyer was taking the DEA jobs because she’d turned into an endlessly pregnant shrew.

“Very sure,” Ford said, and hugged her tight. Or at least as tight as he could given that she was the size of a VW Bug.

“And when this job is finished,” he said, “he says he’s done, no more out-of-town jobs.”

“I don’t want him to give up anything for me,” Chloe said.

Ford laughed. “Have you ever seen Sawyer do anything he doesn’t want to do? We both know that, if he’s walking away from the DEA, he’s doing it because he wants to, because it’s the right thing to do.”

Chloe closed her eyes and sighed, suddenly far too exhausted to hold herself up.

“Help me get her back to her chair,” she heard a few moments later, feeling herself shift from Ford’s arms so that she was between two men.

“Here, babe.” It was Lance, her best friend and—up until getting pregnant—her cohort in crime. Sawyer had taken Lance aside and threatened bodily harm and dismemberment, promising to follow him all the way to hell if Lance got Chloe in trouble even once during her pregnancy. Lance, fighting a very losing battle against cystic fibrosis, hadn’t been in the least concerned, but out of respect for Chloe and her marriage, he’d done his best.

“Drink this,” Lance said, and Chloe opened her eyes.

She was back in her seat and Lance had brought her tea. “I’d rather a hot toddy,” she murmured, and sucked in a breath when the baby kicked her in the ribs again.

“Drink,” Lance said, not cracking his usual wiseass smile, which meant she’d worried him. A mean feat as nothing worried Lance, not even death.

“I’m okay,” she promised him. “We’re both okay.” And then she hoped that was true as another vicious cramp gripped her. She did her best to let herself fall into it, listening with half an ear as conversation went on around her.

“The snow’s coming down like mad,” she heard Maddie say in a soft, concerned whisper. “Soon as there’s a break, we’re taking her to the hospital.”

“Agreed,” Tara said.

“Not until I have cake,” Chloe managed. When the pain broke, Chloe looked up to tell them she was fine, but she stilled in shock. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her so she rubbed them and focused again.

No trick. Her heart couldn’t be that cruel as it squeezed tight because Sawyer was there, right there, crouched in front of her.

He was in weather gear, dusted in snow. His expression was blank to anyone who didn’t know him. But she did know him and had no trouble catching the irritation in those brown eyes.

Before she could say a word, another pain gripped her.

His hands slid to her swollen belly, warm and sure. “The Bean,” he said. “Being rough on her mama.”

Robbed of breath, she could only nod.

“She’s just like you already,” he said. “Impatient to the end.”

Frustrated with her as he undoubtedly was and always would be, his voice remained calm and steady, and everything she’d ever needed.

Chapter 5

Sawyer could feel the tightness of Chloe’s body as the contraction gripped her, her belly rippling beneath his palms. She was panting through it, the strain of it tightening her mouth and shadowing her eyes.

He was as tough as they came, life had made sure of it. But watching the woman he loved more than life itself writhing in pain because of him made him feel as helpless as the newborn trying to make its way into the world. “Keep breathing, babe,” he murmured when Chloe caught her breath and held it. “In and out.”

She stared at him, eyes luminous and wide. Whether that was pain, fear, or just the sight of him, he had no idea. But God, she was a sight for sore eyes. He knew she didn’t consider herself classically beautiful, but to him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Even eight and a half months pregnant, she had that special something that would have any man turning his head to watch her. It was a combination of looks and attitude and liveliness, and he’d thought about her 24/7 since he’d left.

“Slow,” he said when she tried to suck in too much air and he heard the telltale wheeze of her asthma. If she had an attack now, he’d have to get her to the hospital… “Slow,” he said again, and breathed with her.

She nodded gratefully and stared at his mouth, mimicking his breath.

“You’re back,” she finally managed when the contraction passed, and her voice sounded almost…surprised.

The surprise shocked Sawyer to the core. They’d never had it easy. In fact, their relationship was akin to a porcupine and a cactus trying to make a life together—prickly as hell.

And amazing.

She’d changed his life, for the better. She’d added color to his black-and-white world and was his heart and soul.

But being with Chloe was more like being on a roller coaster than a smooth highway. It was a fast, hard ride, and there were ups. There were downs.

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