I couldn’t believe a woman as supposedly smart as Francesca St. James P-H-fucking-D had come to a hockey game while in labor.
Because that was the level of stupid we were dealing with here. You didn’t suddenly become seven centimeters dilated without being close to having the baby. And we were here with the team doc, who I doubted was qualified to do this. Sprain an ankle or catch a blade to your forehead? Dr. Sykes was your guy. Deliver Super Kid? Nope. Not having it.
Violet recognized my concern. “Bren reached out to Dr. Patel?—”
“Is she coming?”
“She’s on her way. There’s a good chance she’ll be here before the baby is.”
“Hear that, Doc? Think you can hold on?”
“Only if I close my legs. Which I probably should have done in the first place.” Her face crumpled as she absorbed another wave of pain.
I hated seeing her like this. Sure, I knew it would get to this point, but I’d assumed we’d be in a hospital, surrounded my special equipment and birthing professionals and access to incredibly strong drugs. Not a bunch of well-meaning hockey fans.
“Do you want everyone here?” I whispered.
“No. Just you, only you.”
My thoughts exactly. Even though her family meant the world to her, Franky was reserved and wouldn’t want them to see her so vulnerable.
That was my privilege.
“Violet, do you mind if we give her some space?”
Franky’s stepmom looked at me, then her. “Of course.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, murmured an endearment I couldn’t hear, then guided everyone else to the door. Rosie called out, “Love you, Franks!”
Franky sniffed. “I love you, too.”
Bren St. James also kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “I’m so proud of you, sprite. I can’t wait to meet my grandchild.” He turned to me. “Take care of my daughter.”
I nodded, the emotion of the moment almost too much. Finally, we were alone with the doctor.
Franky reached for me. “I need to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
She panted a few short, shallow breaths. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about the baby after the first ultrasound? I know you told Sean and Lauren, but not the rest of your family until I forced your hand at Theo’s party.”
This was what she wanted to know? “We can talk about it later.”
“Now. Tell me now.”
“I was worried they might question?—”
“Why you chose me?”
“Why you chose me, Francesca.”
Her eyes welled up. “But—that’s obvious!”
“Is it? You had your lists and variables and plans. Basically, you could have anyone. Sure, you wanted someone healthy, with good genes, but smarts didn’t seem so important to you. I imagined everyone asking themselves, ‘why did she settle for that dumb jock?’”
“Oh, Jason. We’ve been so stuck in these boxes we built all those years ago.” She winced as another contraction dug its claws in. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. About being in love with me.”
“It’s okay. You’re a natural skeptic.”
She slid a look at Dr. Sykes who was busy trying not to be overly focused on the spot between my woman’s thighs. Damned if he do, damned if he don’t.
