“Violet! I need to get home to my Petal.” Luke lifts his head and his blurry eyes meet mine. “Petal, I missed you. Why are you at the bar? You shouldn’t be drinking.”
“If this is what I have to look forward to when I’m pregnant, I need to re-think the whole having kids thing,” Bailey mutters.
“You mean this crazy-ass shower didn’t already change your mind?” I point to the uterus covered in sperm wearing smiley faces on the wall.
“Welp. I’m out of here,” Shelby declares.
“Where are you going?” I ask her.
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. Drunk sex.” She waves as she heads to the door.
Roman pushes Luke onto Brodie. “You are not having sex in the back seat of my car!” He rushes after her.
“A little help?” Luke is sliding towards the floor, and Brodie is barely holding on.
“Let him fall. He can sleep on the stairs.” Sounds cruel, but the man is driving me bat shit crazy. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without him shadowing me. My work is suffering, his work is suffering. If I didn’t know his stalker tendencies were the result of him being worried about me, I’d kick his ass.
But here’s the thing. There’s no reason for him to turn full-on stalker. Baby Bud is doing well. I’m in my third trimester and Dr. Barnes is taking wonderful care of us. I’ve had frequent ultrasounds. So many ultrasounds. But we haven’t needed to take any other precautions. No medicine. No surgery.
Nothing can reassure my fiancé, though. Oh, and there’s another bone of contention. I want to wait until the baby is born before getting married. Luke wants to get married right away. Preferably yesterday. If he could, he’d buy a time machine and get married pre-conception.
“Well, I guess the party’s over,” Frankie announces when Luke starts to snore.
“But I still have another five games,” Grandma complains, and everyone groans.
There’s a knock on the door before Grandpa Bill walks in. “Come on, Nancy. Time to go home.”
“You’re welcome,” Bailey whispers in my ear as Bill practically drags Grandma out of the room.
Luke farts in his sleep and I giggle. What a perfect end to this weird-ass day.
Chapter 37
Well, that didn’t go as planned. ~ Violet’s Secret Thoughts
“You look gorgeous,” I tell Bailey as I make sure her train is perfect before she walks down the aisle. And I’m not lying or exaggerating. She’s always gorgeous, but in a wedding dress, she looks like she should be gracing the cover of some glossy wedding magazine.
Her dad, Darren, joins us. His eyes are misty as he smiles at his daughter on her wedding day. Bailey’s mom, the total bitch, kept the father and daughter apart for the first thirty-some years of Bailey’s life. The two are thick as thieves now, though, running their rail company together.
I pat his arm in support before rushing as quickly as my penguin-walk will allow to join the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen waiting to walk down the aisle. Luke growls when he sees me moving faster than the pace of a snail. “Slow down.”
Whatever. He acts like the baby is going to drop out of me if I’m too active. It doesn’t matter how many times I explain it doesn’t work like that. As Luke is the best man and I’m the maid of honor, we’re walking down the aisle together. He’ll probably keep our pace to that of a sloth. Sloths may be cute, but they are slow with a capital S. I warned the wedding planner, aka Frankie, to have the musicians ready for our walk down the aisle to take a year and a half.
Yes, musicians. No recorded music or organ player for Mr. Billionaire and Ms. Millionaire. There is an honest to goodness string quartet accompanying this wedding.
The music starts and I watch as Shelby, Bailey, and one of Roman’s sisters walk down the aisle. When it’s our turn, Luke takes my arm and says, “I wish this was our wedding.”
“Give it up, Luke. We’re waiting for Baby Bud to arrive.”
“He will have my last name.”
Not this again. “She will have our last name.”
We start a slow shuffle down the aisle. My back twinges with every step. If I’m honest, it’s been twinging all day. As maid of honor, it’s been a busy morning, and I’m feeling it. My feet are swollen or should I say feel swollen. I haven’t seen them for over a month.
Luke kisses my forehead when we finally reach the end of the aisle before we go our separate ways. Pachelbel’s Canon begins and everyone stands to watch Bailey walk down the aisle. I don’t need to see her walk. I know she can walk. I keep my eyes glued to Roman instead. It’s a beautiful sight. His love for Bailey shines from his eyes, and he’s bouncing on his toes as if he can’t wait for Bailey to be his wife.
When Bailey joins Roman, he wastes no time kissing her silly. The preacher has to clear his throat until he has a coughing fit to get them to pull apart. Bailey blushes as she hands me her bouquet. I wink at her, which only makes her blush deepen.
The ceremony begins and I try to pay attention to the ceremony. Really, I do. But my feet are killing me. And my back? Those twinges are getting worse and worse. My belly tightens and I feel a cramp. Uh oh. Am I having a contraction?
“Hold these.” I shove Bailey’s bouquet at Frankie. I grab onto the railing and grit my teeth against the pain.
I take deep breaths through my nose until the pain wanes. It’s probably nothing. Braxton Hicks or something. The ache in my back increases, and now there’s an ache in my lower abdomen, too. Well, shit. I think I’m in labor. No worries. It’s early on. Labor can last for hours.
“Are you okay?” Frankie whispers.
I shake my head. No, I am not okay. I’m about to have a freaking baby come out of me. But I can’t say anything. I am not ruining Bailey’s wedding. The ceremony is twenty minutes. Thirty minutes tops. No problem. First babies take forever to come.
I stand as still as possible. If Luke sees me struggling, he’ll rush over here and cart me away. There’s no playing around for him. Especially since Baby Bud is not supposed to make her appearance for another two weeks. But I not missing Bailey getting married to Roman.
Several slow as molasses minutes later, another contraction hits me. My nails bite into the railing as the pain surges.
Frankie grabs my other hand. “Squeeze as hard as you want. We got this.”
I hold on for dear life. Frankie squeaks as I crush her hand. I count to sixty before the pain subsides. These contractions sure don’t feel like Braxton Hicks.
“Less than ten minutes apart. This isn’t good. At the start of labor, contractions should be fifteen to twenty minutes apart.” I glance over to see Shelby has her phone pulled out and is scrolling through an article. Where could she have possibly hidden her phone in these bridesmaid’s dresses?
“Shhh…” I tilt my head towards Bailey and Roman who are continuing the ceremony oblivious to our little drama.
“How much longer do you think the ceremony will last?” I can feel the sweat gathering along my brow. Standing immobile is the last thing I want to be doing right now.
“Ten more minutes max,” Frankie whispers back. “Can you make it?”