Page 32 of Sheriff's Dirty Secret
“Babe,” I groaned, kneeling in front of her and taking both her hands in mine. “Will you please let me carry you?”
“No, because you’re just going to take me home, and I should be here.” Her lip wobbled. It felt like a goddamn knife to the heart.
“What if I promise I’m not taking you home?” She opened and shut her pretty mouth and stared at me.
“Like… really promise?” she asked, almost incredulously, while her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears.
I tried not to be offended by it. We had been together for seven years now, had one kid and another on the way. I was a man of my word.
“Really, I promise.” I nodded, trying to find patience.
But honestly, with Olive, it wasn’t hard to find that bit. Especially now that things were… delicate. I’d folded to Onyx’ idea, which, if I was honest, despite my grumbling, worked out well.
Great even.
We had set up a chair with a working table attachment that helped keep Oli’s feet elevated and she could lean against while she worked on cookies and decorating cupcakes. One ofher sisters was usually sitting with her, handing her things to decorate and taking the ones she’d finished, but it had worked out great.
Until last week, when the doctor had told her our little girl more than likely would be making her grand arrival a little earlier than expected and to stay home until her water broke or it was time.
But my beautiful, stubborn wife hadn’t done that.
This time, with the help of Coral’s husband, Oleg, my sneaky little wife had run right back to her bakery. Even as I stared at her as she sat in front of me, I could see the worry in her eyes. The fear. The helplessness she felt about what was to come. Our lives were about to change, and because of our son’s difficult delivery, I knew Oli was scared.
I was, too, if I was honest.
“When have I ever broken a promise to you, baby?” She sighed and swallowed.
“Fine.” She shifted in the recliner in front of the bakery that hadn’t even opened yet. I turned and looked at the huge, darkened SUV, where I knew Oleg and Coral sat watching over Olive and me. She shifted and froze.
“Olive?” I said, but she didn’t look at me. “Baby, I told you I wouldn’t take you home, but let’s at least get you on the chair in the back? That way, you can recline all the way back and rest your legs.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” she said softly. Her eyes settled on her belly before her hand rose and gently rested over her baby bump.
“Why?” I asked, and her pretty stare connected with mine.
“I think it’s time.” Everything inside of me froze.
“What?” That was the last thing I had expected her to say. It was four in the morning. I had just come off a shift whenOleg called to give me a heads-up about my wife’s stubborn shenanigans.
“My water broke,” she said, and sure enough, my eyes moved down, and I heard the soft sound of droplets hitting the hardwood floors of the bakery.
“Okay,” I breathed. It was showtime.Get your shit together, March. “It’s okay.”
“Okay? She should still have another three weeks!” I could see the panic and anxiety building.
“Cookie, we made it a lot longer than the doctor thought we would. She’s in the safe zone. Her lungs are okay and?—“
“But what if…” Her eyes searched mine, like she couldn’t get the words out, too afraid to voice them to the universe in case it somehow made her concerns come true.
“Olive, you’ve taken care of our daughter, making sure she’s happy and healthy so far. What did the nurse say at your last appointment?”
“She hardly sees babies dancing around like our little ballerina does this far along,” she repeated. I smiled, kneeling in front of her, holding her hands. Her eyes, fuck me, those big, beautiful eyes rose to meet mine head on. “I’m scared,” she whispered. I leaned closer, holding the side of her face.
“I know, baby. I know. And it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes,” I stated with all the confidence I could muster.
