“Okay, what am I making for dinner?”
“Well, I thought I’d take you out.”
I shook my head. “I kinda want to stay in, eat, and fuck some more if that’s okay. How about we go out tomorrow?”
He kissed me again. “I can get behind that.”
I chuckled. “Oh, I bet you can.”
“What can you do with chicken?”
“Orgasmic things.”
“Can’t wait,” he said.
The rest of the night was total perfection.
* * *
Maisie
A sharp pain in my side dragged a groan out of me. I had just started the shower, hoping the heat from the water would ease the ache in my stomach, but now that ache had grown into something much more.
Hatch was downstairs making breakfast, so even if I called out, he wouldn’t hear me. I stood very still, and the pain eased a little, leaving the constant ache that had been with me for the past day or so. I stepped under the warm water and managed to finish washing my hair when the sudden jab of pain came again. It was so bad, I had to sit on the little bench against the wall.
I took deep breaths, similar to when I’d been in labor, but nothing was helping, and I knew I was in trouble. “Hatch,” I called.
It was futile because we lived in a big house, and I’d stupidly said nothing about my pain, which meant he wasn’t on alert. I didn’t want him to know about any of this because if he did, he’d worry, and then he’d hover, and when my man hovered, he didn’t focus on what he needed to focus on.
Another stab and I cried out as I gripped the side of the bench.
“Jesus!” I hissed.
Something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong.
* * *
Hatch
I had just lifted my coffee cup to my mouth when an alert blasted through my phone’s speaker. Someone in the club had pushed their panic button. I glanced at the screen.
“Fuck!” I bellowed, tossing my cup into the sink and taking the stairs two at a time up to our bedroom. “Maisie?”
I heard the shower, but my wife didn’t answer, and my blood ran cold.
“Sunshine?”
“Connor?” she rasped.
I nearly ripped the door off the hinges as I rushed inside. “What’s goin’ on?”
Maisie was white, her hands gripping the side of the bench in our shower, doubled over in pain. “Sorry, I—”
I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. “Talk to me.”
“Pain,” she bit out. “Over the past few days. I think it’s my appendix. I tried to call out, but you couldn’t hear me. I didn’t want to scare you, so I figured my necklace was the best way to get you up here.”
