Against Me (Cedar Tree Book 3) (37 page)

"It's huge."

That makes Caleb laugh. "I'm not exactly small and I like room to move around," he says, an eyebrow raised. Right. "Also, when this little peanut gets here," he says walking up behind me and sliding his hands around my stomach, "and whatever other children we might end up having, we will all fit."

I turn around and tilt my head, looking into his eyes. "You want our children to sleep in our bed?"

"Fuck no. That would seriously cramp my style, but after my morning sex with their beautiful mother..." He is nuzzling my neck when I notice the glass block wall on the right.

"Is that the bathroom?"

Without waiting for an answer I carefully move my crutches around the candles dotting the floor, and walk into the bathroom where the sound of running water draws my eye immediately to the most amazing shower. A waterfall, about two feet in width is raining down from the back wall of the natural stone shower, with several other showerheads at a variety of heights and angles adding to the rush of water. A wide ledge juts out from the tiled walls and runs underneath the waterfall and along the length of the stall, which is substantial; almost large enough for an average family. On the other side is the tall-edged claw foot tub I saw them carry in last week. A wide trough-like sink in the same stone of the shower sits along the wall beside the tub with two separate taps and mirrors. A door on the opposite side is cracked open to reveal the toilet.

"Holy crud, Caleb. This is decadent!"

I'm practically salivating over the rustic luxury in this room.

"Remember the shower at the guesthouse? The one you
enjoyed
so much?" Caleb is right behind me once more and I can feel his warm breath tickling the hair by my ear when I nod.

"I designed this shower with that experience in mind."

This time when I turn around and see his eyes, they're a burning dark hazel and my body instantly reacts.

"Show me," I challenge him.

In no time at all he has made fast work of our clothes and I find myself standing naked under the delicious spray of water, where Caleb proceeds to show me every last benefit of his innovative design.

"Blue! Where are ya boy? Blue?"

"He take off again?"

Katie's on the back deck yelling for that damn mutt, who seems to take off every couple of weeks for a day or two. Drives her crazy. Sometimes he shows up at the diner and Malachi brings him back and sometimes he just shows up here, a bit dirty but otherwise none the worse for wear.

I look at my wife, something we made legal on a quick getaway weekend in Vegas without telling anyone months ago, and am struck by how much she has changed since I first met her. Her face once almost gaunt and reserved is now fuller and open, her body before was perfectly toned and strengthened and now was richly curved and blossoming with her eight-month pregnancy. She doesn't look much like the hard-nosed, ball-busting security specialist anymore; more like a warm-hearted earth mother. But that woman is still a force to be reckoned with and if I had to pick a partner to have my back in any situation, she'd be at the top of my list.

We've got the whole gang coming over for a Fall cookout. The weather's been surprisingly mild so late in the year and after a hot summer spent mostly indoors in cold, but canned air, it'll be nice to hang out outside. Even if we have to do it with sweaters on.

We picked Monday so Seb, Arlene, Beth and Julie could be here too. Seb said he'd be bringing sides and Emma will take care of desserts, not that we had to ask, it's a given.

Mal's been here since early this morning, stoking the fire out by what was the vegetable garden where we've got a pig roasting. Mal's idea, so I told him since it was his, he was welcome to execute it too. The moment Neil heard about an open fire, he volunteered to help. Kids.

I'm surprised, now that I think about it, that with the mouth-watering smell of that roasting pig, the dog hasn't turned up yet. But before I can even mention anything to Katie, she's already waddling to the door to let the first visitors in. Her walking was fine until she hit the seventh month of her pregnancy. Suddenly her gait changed and Mal tortures her mercilessly. My little one just shrugs it off, though. She is still so grateful to be walking at all. Waddling or otherwise. She's not going waste time worrying about mundane things like that, not anymore. We've all learned some lessons and the most important one is; Life won't wait.

That damn dog. It's such a great day with everyone here. We finally get to enjoy the space and location of the barn and the grounds and of course Blue picks today to disappear. Better be careful not to stand too much today, I can already feel it in my back. Damn. I'll be glad when this kid is out. Pregnancy is fun and all when you have a cute little belly, but once you turn into a whale the fun is done.

We have a nursery set up upstairs, but I guess Caleb thought it might be a little too far from the master bedroom at first, so he put a bassinet in our bedroom with a room divider. Damn room is big enough, we could probably sleep a football team in there. I have a feeling Caleb might be a pretty protective father, regardless of whether our baby is a boy or a girl. We've chosen not to find out the sex and just wait till nature sees fit to tell us. Naomi was funny. She said that she wouldn't want to do the ultrasounds anymore then, just in case she spotted the genitals. She wants to be as surprised as we are.

Naomi has become a great friend, one I can really show the back of my tongue to. Emma will always have a special spot in my heart, but feels more like a peer. Even if she's had her hand up my twat more times than I want to remember. That is freaking weird, but I guess it happens when your doctor becomes your friend and also the person who will be delivering your baby.

I'm happy to see she brought her son out for this, even though he doesn't seem too thrilled to be here. Mal seems to be taking him under his wing though. Good. Mal probably knows all about troubled youth and the problems they can get into. I don't envy Naomi and the path she's had to walk on her own. Still does. Stupid Joe. Where is he anyway? He was supposed to show up as well.

Damn my back aches.

"Hey, little one. You okay?"

"Just a sore back, gonna be on the couch putting my feet up for a bit. You gonna be ok to handle this crowd?"

"We're good. Why don't you just take the elevator upstairs and lay down for a bit. I'll check on you in a little."

A sweet kiss on my lips and a shove in the direction of the front hallway and he's off outside.

Must've been sleeping for a bit because the sun is pretty low in the sky when I open my eyes and look at the mountains. At the same time I feel the pain in my back returning, but much more intense, and moving into my lower abdomen. Oh fuck, this is a contraction. Relax and it will go away.

I manage to breathe through the intense sensation but before I have a chance to get up and find Caleb, another one hits, this one even stronger then before. It's a fucking battle not to grit my teeth but I know any added tension will only make it worse. Breathe through it. Another one builds before the last one is even gone, and part of me is starting to panic. I can't seem to move. 

It's ok, I tell myself. This takes hours. I can handle pain. Someone will come upstairs.

One after another, the storm of contractions become so overwhelming, I’m barely thinking straight. When at the height of another one a flood of water gushes between my legs, I can't help it, I cry out loudly. Within seconds I hear Caleb shouting, "Mal! Get Naomi and come up here." Then his voice turns soothing in my ear. "You'll be ok,
Yázhí
. All your people are here. We can do this."

If it wasn't for the stupid mutt showing up just when he did, and bugging me to let him inside the house, I might not have heard Katie cry out from upstairs.

One look at her and the state of the bed and my guess was this baby was going to be born right here―at home, whether we liked it or not. First person I think of to call is my brother; I need him here and Naomi of course. Christ what a stroke of luck to have Naomi here.

Katie is barely registering her surroundings, she's already so drawn into herself. With Naomi and Mal's footsteps coming up the stairs, I start pulling off her sopping wet pants and underwear. Mal moves in behind Katie and starts whispering to her while Naomi slides in beside me and quickly starts shooting off instructions.

"Look,” she says, at the peak of the next contraction when a little patch of ink black hair becomes visible between her stretched labia. "We're having this baby in the next few minutes"

"Will it be ok?"

"Thirty-seven weeks, Caleb. Technically it's considered full term."

"You take her, I'll grab what we need," Mal says and I take his place, pulling my wife up between my legs.

I can't remember much of the next minutes until Naomi tells both Katie and I to slide our hands around the slippery little body between Katie's legs and lift it up on her belly. Time stands still to engrave that moment in our memories for eternity. My hands cover Katie's as we pull our son up, where he is warm and nestled between his mother's chest and the warmth of our hands.

"Caleb, want to cut the cord?"

I'm about to answer, when Katie puts a hand on mine.

"I'd like Malachi to cut the cord. Mal? Would you?" Katie asks in a soft voice.

My brother simply nods and takes the sterilized scissors from Naomi.

I bury my face in my little one's neck and count my blessings.

——THE END——

F
reya Barker craved reading about 'real' people, those who are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives – So she decided to write about them.

Always creative, from an early age on she danced and sang, doodled, created, cooked, baked, quilted and crafted. Her latest creative outlets were influenced by an ever-present love for reading. First through blogging, then cover art and design, and finally writing.

Born and raised in the Netherlands, she packed her two toddlers, and eight suitcases filled with toys to move to Canada. No stranger to new beginnings, she thrives on them.

With the kids grown and out in the world, Freya is at the ‘prime’ of her life. The body might be a bit ramshackle, but the spirit is high and as adventurous as ever. Something you may see reflected here and there in some of her heroines.... none of who will likely be wilting flowers.

Freya

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by
Freya Barker

Expected July 2015

––––––––

P
ROLOGUE

“Is that gonna hurt?”

“Remember those pokes I had to give you a few minutes ago?”

The poor little guy nods his head furiously, tear tracks still staining his cheeks from his earlier encounter with my needle.