Page 75 of Love is a Drum Beat
“My name is Dax Nelson, and I need to get up there because I’m the father.”
“The—”
“Father, yes. Feel free to go get your fifteen minutes of fame by talking to the reporters outside. I’m not hiding anymore. Jo Jackson is having my baby, and if I don’t get to her, she’ll be doing this alone. That’s not good enough for the woman I love.”
The woman peered at his ID. “You’re really him.”
“Yes, now, are you going to hand me a visitor’s pass or not?”
She gave it to him, her entire face going red.
Dax tried to avoid looking at the phones recording his every word, but they pushed closer and closer. Their word bounced off him, a jumble of sound he couldn’t quite work out.
He backed up, clipping the visitor’s pass to his sopping shirt.
“Dax,” someone called.
“Is it really him?” another asked.
The scowling woman behind the desk gave him a much kinder smile now. “Son, this is a place for the sick. Your presence here is not a good idea. I’d go. Run through those double doors and to the elevator. They’ll be able to tell you where Jo is at the nurse’s station.
He blocked out the rest of the sound coming from the people who had been witnesses to the biggest moment of Dax’s career.
The day his face became just as famous as his songs.
And he didn’t care. The worry racing through him wasn’t because of the crowd he’d left behind or the paparazzi outside the hospital doors.
None of that mattered. Only Jo.
21
Jo
Jo leaned back against the pillows and groaned. “Just get this baby out of me.” Her arm shot out, tangling in the IV cord, and she grabbed Doctor Lawrence’s wrist. “Name your price. Any price. I’ll pay it if you just start now. Cut me open. Do whatever you have to do.”
The doctor smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. It didn’t help. There was no at ease. “Jo, this takes time. I don’t like to make any cuts unless it’s absolutely necessary. We will give you a medication called Pitocin, however. It will help the labor progress more quickly. I’ll have a nurse bring it.”
“I was supposed to have another month. I’m not ready. I changed my mind; when the baby starts coming, push it back in.” It wasn’t lost on her how ridiculous she was. A rock star with the worst half-haircut known to man and demands no woman would make.
The doctor pursed her lips. “You’re about three centimeters dilated, still not ready for active birth. We’re going to be monitoring you closely through all of this. Preeclampsia can cause complications, but we have no indication it will for you. Everything seems good to go. You’ll be thankful you spent the past month on bedrest.”
At Dax’s house. Eating his food. Sleeping in his guest room. Letting him become one of the few people she could count on. “Doc, find Ben. I need to talk to him. I was wrong. I don’t care about interrupting Dax and his music. I just want him here.”
She smiled again. “If I know my son, right this minute, he’ll be standing in the doorway of your hospital room, looking like he forgot showers didn’t require clothing.”
Jo’s gaze darted to the doorway where Dax stood, chest heaving, and clothes dripping.
“It’s raining.”
22
Dax
The doctor ushered the nurses out as a tear rolled down Jo’s cheek. “I’m having a baby, Dax.”
He crossed the room in three long strides and sat in the chair next to her bed. His hand found hers tangled in the blanket.
“I left you a note,” she whispered.
