“There is if we adopt him,” I say off the cuff, distracted, overwhelmed, trying to get to Rylee, navigate this place, and carry a conversation that I shouldn’t be having right now.

“Oh.”

And then it hits me what I’ve said and who I’ve said it to. Fuck! Ry’s concerns flood my head and yet I just went and opened by big fucking mouth and did exactly what she didn’t want to do—hurt one of her boys. Let them think we’d pick one over the others.

“Shit!” I say through gritted teeth as I make myself stop and pinch the bridge of my nose. I need to figure out how to make this right. I’ve been there. Unwanted. Feeling slighted. Jealous. On the wrong end of the schoolyard pick. Fix this, Donavan. “That’s not what I meant. I’m doing too many things at once: talking, walking, and trying to get to Ry. I suggested the idea just to fix the situation but we’d never really do it because there’s no way we could just adopt one of you and not all of you. And social services—”

“Would never allow you to adopt all of us,” he says, finishing my sentence for me. But then nothing else.

Silence hangs on the line as I grimace at what I just said. At talking without thinking. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Talk to me, Shane. Cuz, dude, as much as I want to make sure this is right, I also have somewhere else I need to be like ten damn minutes ago.

“Shane?”

“Of course. Makes sense,” he says. And goddammit, I’m torn between making sure I believe he’s not upset and getting to where I need to be. I look up and fucking kick myself when I see the nurses station to my left.

“I’m here. I gotta go. We’ll talk later. I’ll keep you up to date, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I don’t hear anything else because I hang up as I impatiently wait for the nurse to look up. And when she does I get the usual response: wide eyes, big gasp, flushed cheeks.

“Hi. Wh . . . How . . . What can I help you with?” she stutters as her hand automatically goes to pat down her hair in a move I’ve seen more times in my life than I care to count.

“Room number for Rylee Donavan, please.” My smile is forced, my patience nil. Because now that I’m here I need to see her, touch her, know she’s not in pain.

That’s brilliant, Donavan. Labor. The word means it’s not going to be easy. Pain is inevitable.

“Three eleven is the room, and you’ll need this,” she says as she pulls out a visitor’s badge from a stack sitting on the ledge next to her. “What name do you want?” She winks. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Ace Thomas.” The name is off my tongue without thought. Where’d that come from?

“Ace Thomas, it is,” she says writing it out and handing me the badge. “Good luck, Mr. Donav—Thomas.”

I flash her a smile and jog down the hall to where Sammy sits in a chair outside the door to her room. He lifts his eyes and locks them on mine. He knows I know, knows I’m pissed, and stiffens his spine.

“Her. Safety. Comes. First,” I say through gritted teeth. “Always. Understood?”

The words he wants to say as my friend are written clearly in his eyes, but his obligation as my employee and lead security keep them from coming out of his mouth. “Understood.”

It’s all he says. All I need to hear from him. Discussion over. Point made.

I push through the door and into the room anxious about what awaits me. No turning back now. This is real as real can be.

Ry’s back is to me and Dr. Steele is just walking out. She smiles when she sees me. “Everything looks good, Colton. Be prepared to be a daddy within the next twenty-four hours,” she says, then shakes my hand.

“Colton!” Relief. I can hear it in her voice and breathe a little easier now that I’m here.

“I guess we didn’t have time to repaint those toes,” I say as I walk to her side of the bed and press a kiss to her lips. That’s what I needed. A little bit of Ry to calm me.

“Or do other things,” she murmurs with a smile.

“I got here as fast as I could.”

“Ace Thomas, huh?” she says, her eyes flickering down to my nametag and then back to mine with amusement. “I seem to have heard that somewhere before.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” I feign ignorance.

“Just don’t tell my husband you’re here. He’s got a mean right hook.”

I laugh. God, I fucking love this woman. Framing her face with my hands, I take in the feel of her skin beneath mine and breathe in a huge sigh of relief. “You okay?” She nods her head, her eyes searching mine, and I know what she’s looking for, knows I’ve connected the dots. “Yes, I’m mad at you . . .”

Furious. Livid.

But I love you more.

“Don’t be mad at Sammy. I made him drive me,” she says with a cringe, and I hold back the snort I want to give because Sammy’s a badass motherfucker. I doubt she made him do anything but at the same time, I know how Rylee gets when it comes to her boys.

“Have you talked to Zander? I need to make sure he’s okay.”

The saint. In a moment that’s all about her, she’s thinking about them.

“Rylee,” I say with a sigh but know she won’t give up or relax until she knows they are okay. “I just talked to Shane.”

“What did he say about Zander?”

“We talked. Shane’s still there with him. I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s worry about—”

“No. He’s not. He was scared and said some things that—”

“I’ll call him, okay? Make sure he’s all right. If I promise to do that, will you stop worrying about everyone else and start thinking about yourself right now?” Her huge violet eyes look up at me, searching to see if I’ll really make sure, and when she likes what she sees, she worries her bottom lip with her teeth and nods reluctantly. “Good, because I wasn’t taking no for an answer.” I flash her what she calls my panty-dropping smile. She rolls her eyes.

“Did you forget that this is my show, Ace?” She laughs as she reaches out and fists a hand in my shirt to pull my lips back to hers for another kiss. By all means. Kiss away. “No need to give me that smile, considering I’m not wearing any panties to drop in the first place.”

I laugh long and hard over that. The hospital gown, the monitors on her belly, the rubber gloves. They all scream sexy. Not. “So there’s no chance—”

“No chance in hell,” she says, pushing against my chest and as silly as it seems, this banter makes me feel a bit more relaxed about what it is that’s about to happen to us.

“You in pain?” I ask, unsure exactly what to ask or do.

“Only when I have contractions,” she says with a smirk. Smartass.

“So we sit and wait?”

“We sit and wait,” she agrees. I link my hand with hers and sit in the chair beside her bed.


Hours pass.