The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game #3)

The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game #3) Page 26

He walked me to the garage and around the side of our Jeep Grand Cherokee before opening the door for me and helping me in. “Why aren’t we taking the Bimmer?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I like the idea of being in an SUV instead of a car right now.”

When he scooted into the driver’s seat, he reached for my seat belt first, fastening it around my stomach before putting on his own. I focused on my breathing, paranoid that another contraction could come at any minute.

I pulled out my phone, which I’d managed to grab on my way out the door, and typed a group text to my mom, Gran, Dean, and Melissa.

On our way to the hospital. Water broke. Text you when I get settled and know our room number.

“I can’t believe this is really happening. I mean, of course I knew it would happen eventually, but it’s weird.” I breathed slowly in and out as Jack drove through our gated neighborhood.

“How so?” he asked, resting a hand on my knee.

“I don’t know. It’s like I got so used to being this enormous beast that I guess at some point I figured I’d always be this way. Like I’d be pregnant forever. But now that my water broke, it’s like holy shit, we’re going to have a baby! I don’t know what to do with a baby,” I squeaked out, starting to freak out. Jack laughed at my irrationality. “Don’t laugh at me, damn it. It’s not like you’ll even be around.”

That stopped Jack’s laughter immediately. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“You want me to quit baseball? I’ll fucking quit tomorrow,” he offered, his tone serious.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Of course I don’t want you to quit baseball. But don’t make fun of me when I’m freaking out, Jack. ‘Cause I’m freaking out,” I admitted. “I’m scared. I don’t know what to do with babies.”

“You’ll be great, Kitten. You’ll be amazing. And if you end up needing help, we’ll hire a nanny. Hell, I’ll hire you one for every day of the week if it helps. Whatever makes you happy.”

“I do not want someone else raising our child! Are you crazy?” I started to yell. “It’s not like I’m working anymore, so there’s no reason I should need a freaking nanny to help me be a mom.”

“Fine. No nanny.” He glanced at me and then focused on the road. “It’s funny how things work out, though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was so unhappy about the trade at first, you know? But look at how it all worked out. You ended up being pregnant and we got to move home. Most of the guys aren’t that lucky.”

“Most of the guys don’t want to be that lucky. They like having their wives and kids in other cities. That way they can cheat without getting caught,” I snapped.

“Whoa. Pregnancy’s changed you.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, surprised that I was completely in agreement, and I laughed. “I feel like a crazy person. Get this thing out of me.”

He squeezed my thigh. “You have Gran and your mom,” he said, then paused and added, “And Melissa. And my brother. We have a whole team here ready to help.”

“You’re right,” I said, starting to settle down. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’m just freaking out ‘cause I’ve never done this before.”

“I sure hope not.”

Another contraction ripped through me, causing me to gasp.

“Kitten?” Jack’s voice pleaded for a response, but I was too busy counting and trying not to hold my breath. When it ended, I unclenched his hand and he shook it out; apparently I’d been crushing his fingers. “I really don’t like when you get those.”

He fidgeted behind the steering wheel, his left knuckles almost white from his grip on it. “How bad do they hurt?” he asked, and then quickly changed his mind. “No. Don’t tell me. I can’t fucking handle hearing how much pain you’re in.” He huffed as he shook his head, changing his mind. “No. Tell me. What kind of man doesn’t want to know how much pain his wife is in? The kind who can’t do anything about it!” He slammed his hand against the wheel, his seesawing emotions clearly torturing him.

“Jack, stop. They aren’t that bad, okay? They’re just like sharp cramps. It’s mostly uncomfortable,” I lied. The contractions were getting stronger and longer, but Jack was right. There wasn’t anything he could do for my pain and I didn’t want him flipping out about it. It hurt me to see him react so defensively when it came to me. I reserved the right to protect my man the same way he wanted to protect me. And this was how I could do that, by avoiding the truth.

Jack glanced over at me, his face full of love and concern before he looked at the road again. “I can’t just sit here next to you while you’re gasping in pain and do nothing. It goes against everything I feel for you. It’s my job to keep you safe and protected. I know it’s illogical for me to think I can stop your labor pains, but my heart fucking feels like it’s going to explode when I hear the sounds you’re making. You being in pain doesn’t fucking work for me, Kitten. It rips me in two the second it starts. It goes against every fiber of my being to sit there and pretend like I don’t want to save you. I’d rather break my own hand again than know you’re hurting.”

I smiled, comforted by the depth of this man’s love for me. “I understand completely and I love you for it. It’s sexy as hell the way you love me, Jack. But I promise, I’m okay.”

He pulled our car into the hospital parking lot, grabbed my overnight bag, and helped me out. “I’ll carry you in if you want me to,” he offered.

“I’m fine, really,” I huffed as I waddled slowly. “I can walk.”

He wrapped a protective arm around me and guided me toward the emergency room doors. Once we were all checked in, Jack demanded a room as quickly as possible, telling anyone who would listen that I was hurting, about to give birth at any second, and I needed to lie down. The nurses tried to calm him while I mouthed an apology to any of them who looked my way. They didn’t seem fazed in the least, as if this type of behavior were an everyday occurrence in their department.

“Hi, Mrs. Carter. My name is Jane and I’ll be your nurse for today. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you all set up.” The nurse’s hair was meticulously pulled into a tight bun, not a hair out of place, and I found myself mesmerized by this fact. Jack was right. Pregnancy had made me weird.

“Please call me Cassie,” I said, waddling behind her tiny frame down the long white corridor.

She paused in front of a wooden door and waved an arm. “We’ll be in here.”

“No one else is in here, right? She has her own room? I asked for a private room.” Jack fired off the questions without taking a breath.

“Yes, Mr. Carter. She will have her own delivery and postnatal room per your request.”

Jack walked into the room first and looked around, checking it carefully before heading back toward me.

“Sorry, he’s a little, um—” I paused, searching for the right word.

“Nervous?” She smiled. “Most of the first-time dads are,” she said, her voice gentle and comforting as she ushered us into the oversized hospital room.

Jack’s strong arm guided me forward once again. “It’s huge in here,” I said, glancing around at the spacious room. The hospital bed was small in size, but the rest of the room was elegantly decorated much like a hotel would be, with bedside tables and a desk.

A light green couch with a hideaway bed sat under the only window. An oversized brown leather chair sat in one corner of the room, and all I could think about was how cold it looked. I’d never been a big fan of leather. It always creaked and moaned whenever anyone first sat in it.

Across the room in the other corner rested the most comfortable-looking rocking chair I’d ever seen. It complemented the decor of the room with its neutral tones, entirely covered in thick cushioning. I wanted to sit in that.

“We need to get you changed and hooked up to the monitors,” Jane said as she pulled back the curtain suspended from the ceiling that surrounded the bed. “The bathroom’s right through that door behind you. Your gown is folded up on the counter. Remember, the opening goes in the back.” Jane smiled and pointed to the doorway before walking toward one of the machines.

I entered my private bathroom and changed as quickly as I could. Folding up my pajamas, I brought them out and handed them to Jack. He tossed them onto the couch into a messy pile, and I rolled my eyes.

Men.

“Do you need help into the bed?” Jack offered and I waved him off, climbing into it on my own.

Once I was lying down, I noticed the walls were painted a seafoam green color and it soothed me to look at them. Above my head was a stuffed mock headboard nailed to the wall, flanked by art glass pendant lights on each side. For a hospital room, this was pretty nice.

“Okay,” Jane said efficiently. “I need to get the IV started first.” She poked a large needle into my hand and I winced as soon as the fluids hit my bloodstream.

Looking up at her, I asked, “Is it normal for that to hurt?”

Jack tensed and looked hard at Jane, who said quickly, “Some patients report a burning sensation at first. But it should fade in no time.”

I nodded with surprise. “You’re right. It’s already gone.”

“Great. Now I need to wrap this band around your stomach. It’s a bit uncomfortable because it’s tight. It measures your baby’s heart rate so we can monitor it during labor, as well as your contractions’ length and strength.”

“Okay.” It pinched as she tightened it around the top of my belly.

“Is that all right?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

“It’s fine.”

“Good. See the monitor here?” She pointed at the green machine with several small LCD screens to my right. “You can see when your contractions hit right here. And your baby’s heart rate right here.”

“Cool.”

“Do you know what you’re having?” she asked, looking between Jack and me.

“We do.” I smiled at her before turning my head toward Jack, my eyes beginning to tear up. I didn’t subscribe to the whole “we don’t want to know the gender of our baby” way of thinking. My mind was far too organized for that sort of nonsense and I needed to be prepared for this little person entering our lives. Especially with the chaos that was Jack’s baseball schedule, the idea of any more surprises did not sound appealing.

Jane continued to hook me up to various things, another monitor on my arm for my heart rate, as well as the prepping for an epidural if I wanted. Just a few days ago, I’d felt like a beached whale. Now I felt like a science experiment with wires coming out of me from all sides. I couldn’t even walk to the bathroom without having to wheel the IV support with me.