Timeless (8 page)

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Authors: Erin Noelle

BOOK: Timeless
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“I need to text my fiancé; he’s in San Diego, so it’ll take him a while to get here. I don’t have any other family local.”

“You want me to come with you to the hospital? I’m an awesome cheerleader.” Her offer was kind, but I wasn’t going to ask her to accompany a stranger to the hospital. Following her on Facebook and Twitter, it felt as if I knew her like a close friend, but in reality, I was just another fan. I’d be fine alone.

“I’m okay. You don’t have to do that, but thank—”

I didn’t get the chance to complete my sentence, as the EMT’s pushed through the crowd with a gurney, helped me up onto it, and then loaded me into the back of the ambulance. I swear the driver took the longest possible route to the hospital, stopped at lights that weren’t even red, and aimed for every bump and pothole in the road. The technician in the back with me kept trying to ask questions about the pregnancy as he took my vitals and hooked me up to the oxygen machine, but the pain shooting through my body was rapidly becoming unbearable.

From my hours of reading online about the entire birthing process, I knew that my water breaking was only the beginning of active labor, and because it was my first pregnancy, it would most likely be a while until the twins were born. I don’t think my babies received that message, because it felt as if they were trying to escape my body through any means necessary; I honestly thought my stomach was going to explode at any moment.

After what seemed like hours in that damn sterile box of a vehicle, I felt us come to a stop, and then the back doors opened, allowing the bright California sun to flood the space. Hurriedly, they got me out of the ambulance and wheeled me into the hospital through the emergency room, passing me off to a nurse waiting with a wheelchair. It was then that I realized I didn’t have my purse with me; I had left it at the signing.

“I need someone to call my fiancé,” I whined as we entered the elevator. “I don’t have my purse or my phone.”

“No worries, Ms. MacGregor, your sister has your personal belongings and is waiting for you in the room,” the older female said calmly. “I believe she’s already contacted him.”

MY SISTER?!? Another contraction rocketed through my body, causing me to double over in agony before I had a chance to ask who my sister was. The elevator doors opened shortly after, and we continued the journey to the birthing suites I had toured only a few weeks before. As we entered the room, the first person I saw was none other than Tara Sivec, who was actually sitting in the hospital bed munching on a pack of Skittles.

“Hey ya, sis,” she screeched, jumping up from the bed. In addition to the blue streak highlighting her brown hair, she was wearing a My Little Pony tank top that showed off the multiple tattoos on her arms, electric blue leggings, and four-inch stilettos. “It took you forever to get here. I was afraid you had the baby in the ambulance or something.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled gruffly. I was still overwhelmed with everything happening, and it was as if my brain was shut down from processing information, using all of its energy to overcome the God-awful pain ripping me apart.

If I wasn’t already completely humiliated, the nurse asked “my sister” to help me change into the hospital gown while she got the bed ready. Flashing me her chipper little smile, Tara skipped over, proceeded to strip me, and then draped the flimsy fabric they called a gown across my front. When the nurse was finished with the bed, the two of them helped me into it, getting me situated and hooked up to all the machines.

“By the way, my name’s Nancy,” the friendly nurse finally introduced herself—not that I had time to wonder what her name was prior. “I’ve been assigned to you for the next nine hours, so let’s see if we can get that baby to make its debut before I get off. Do you know what you’re having?”

“One of each,” I replied, trying my best to relax and catch my breath between contractions.

“Twins?!” they both exclaimed at the same time.

Tara quickly recovered as Nurse Nancy shot her a strange look. “Oh yes, we’re so excited about the twins. Scarlett and I have always been so close; people used to joke we were like twins, not just…ya know…sisters,” she explained, biting her lip to hide a giggle.

Nancy shrugged her shoulders and returned her focus to the machines. “Okay, Miss Scarlett, your doctor has been notified and will be here in a little while, but I’m going to check you now to see where you’re at. Do you want your sister to stay in the room or leave for this?”

“I don’t care; she can stay,” I answered.
I mean, shit, she’d already stripped me
.

Nodding, she takes her place at the foot of the bed and warns me that it may be a bit uncomfortable. Funny, ‘uncomfortable’ would not have been the word I used to describe what she did to me—excruciating torture was more like it. My hips flew off the bed as I screamed out at her touch, and thankfully, she hastily withdrew her hand.

“You’re progressing nicely. I’d say you’re close to an eight and fully effaced—”

Her voice muffled as another contraction hit, and all I could focus on for the next sixty seconds was breathing my way through it while grabbing hold of the rails on the side of the bed.

“Do you know if she has a birthing plan?” I heard Nancy asking Tara as I came down from the pain, my eyes still closed.

“Yes, the plan is to push the babies out as pain-free as possible,” my newly-adopted sister replied.

“So she does want an epidural?”

“Yes, our family is a huge proponent of drugs.”

“I see. Well, let me put a call in to the anesthesiologist; she may be too far along already for it though. I’m honestly not sure her doctor’s even going to make it in time.”

I heard footsteps and the door closing, and I opened my eyes to stare at the textured ceiling, wondering what in the fuck was happening.

“I texted Mason; that’s you’re fiancé, right?” Tara said as she approached the bed.

Twisting my head to look at her, I nodded. “Yeah, thanks. How did you know?”

“I hope you don’t mind; I went through your messages on your phone, but I figured you’d want him to know as soon as possible. You said something about it back at the signing,” she explained. “He hasn’t texted back yet.”

“He’s playing a show right now. He’s gonna freak when he sees his phone.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I came then, girlie, ‘cause according to the nurse lady, you’re gonna be pushing these kiddos out pretty soon.” She paused to sweep a few errant strands of hair away from my face. “And don’t you worry—if you shit on the table while pushing, I won’t tell a soul. Oh, and I’ll make sure the doctor sews that shit up tight. Your boy, Mason, will think he’s died and gone to virgin heaven once he can tap your cute ass again.”

Speechless. Maybe I’d started to hallucinate and she really hadn’t said that.

And as if the moment couldn’t get any more ridiculous, the door flew open, and in walked the two other authors I completely humiliated myself in front earlier—Madeline and Ashley—both of them carrying boxes.

“We got here as soon as we could. It took us a while to get books signed from all of the authors for you, but here they are,” one of them said. I didn’t know who it was; I’d closed my eyes to pray I would disappear into the sheets. It was confirmed—I was starring in an episode of The Twilight Zone: Maternity Ward.

The three of them moved off to a corner and whispered between themselves for a few minutes until Nancy re-entered the room. “I see we have a couple new visitors. Hi, ladies, you must be more ‘sisters’,” she greeted them warmly, despite the hint of sarcasm lingering heavily on her last word.

After a murmur of hellos, Nancy then turned her attention to me. “Scarlett, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to do this without an epidural. Since you’re having a vaginal delivery of twins, the on-call doctor doesn’t want to impede the process in any way. He’s going to be here in just a minute to check you himself, and most likely start setting everything up.”

On cue, the door opened yet again, and in walked an older man dressed in baby blue scrubs, who reminded me of my grandpa. He introduced himself, and without even asking if I wanted anyone to leave the room, he began to check me. Thankfully, my “sisters” scurried up to the head of the bed so they weren’t just standing there staring at my snatch.

Pulling the latex glove off his hand after the exam, he looked up at me and smiled. “It’s time, sweetheart. We’re gonna get everything ready, get our delivery team in here, and then we should be singing Happy Birthday to your little ones in just a bit. Everyone who isn’t staying for the delivery should go ahead and move to the waiting room.”

The following fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of motion, the room filling with hospital staff as they prepared for the twins’ arrival. The contractions grew closer and closer together; I was having problems catching my breath in-between them. I thought the girls had left the room, and a part of me was a little sad; even though they were strangers, it’d meant a lot to me they had come to the hospital so I wouldn’t be alone. However, as Nurse Nancy put the oxygen mask on my face, Tara appeared at the right side of the bed, picking my hand up to hold in hers.

“We’re all here, sweetie. Let us know if we can do anything. Your man texted back and I’ve updated him; he’s on his way,” she comforted me.

And then it started.

Push… One – two – three – four – five – six – seven – eight – nine – ten. And rest.

Push… One – two – three – four – five – six – seven – eight – nine – ten. And rest.

Push… One – two – three – four – five – six – seven – eight – nine – ten. And rest.

Over and over and over.

I pushed so fucking hard I was afraid I was going to burst a blood vessel in my head.

Finally—and I mean holy-shitballs-fucking-FINALLY—the doctor told me one last push and the first baby would be out. Bearing down with every ounce of oomph left in me, Everett Matthew entered the world on February seventh at six-thirty-two in the evening. Three minutes later, his partner-in-crime, Ashlynn Marley, followed, and the room of strangers erupted into cheers. Both babies were whisked away to be cleaned, measured, and examined, and once I was told they were both breathing on their own and screaming loudly, I passed out cold.

The sound of the toilet flushing startles me, and I leap to my feet, snatching my water bottle and leaving the barrage of pictures scattered about. Scurrying to the bedroom, I bound into the room just as Mason exits the bathroom.

“Where were you, Angel?” he asks groggily, walking back to the bed, still stark naked. I clench my thighs together at the sight of him; he truly is a specimen.

“I went to get some water and got sidetracked unpacking a box.” Crawling onto the mattress simultaneously, I meet him in the middle with a quick kiss.

Growling, he grabs the bottom hem of my t-shirt and yanks it over my head. “And you put clothes on. I want you naked. It’s not time for unpacking.”

I promptly slide the panties down my legs and toss them to the floor before he rips them off. Clutching my hips, he rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him in one swift motion. “Better,” he mumbles, reaching up to cup my breasts, both thumbs playfully brushing back and forth over my nipples. “Don’t make me handcuff you to the bed,” he teases.

Looking at all of the old pictures and remembering what it was like when I was pregnant and delivered the twins ignited a desire inside of me. It’s something the two of us discussed several times, but the timing was never right; however, now that we’re married and in our own home, I’m ready.

Wiggling on top of his cock pressing into the cleft of my ass, I lift my arms and gather my hair in a messy pile on top of my head, doing the best sexy-seductress-Scarlett I can. “Mase, I’m ready,” I rasp.

“Fuck right, you’re ready, baby.” He grinds his hips against me, provoking a guttural moan from the back of my throat.

I splay my hands across his sinfully-sexy chest, staring deeply into his lustful eyes. “I want another baby.”

SCARLETT

The scorching, bright rays of the morning sun cut through the bedroom window way too early, shining directly into my sleep-deprived eyes only a couple of hours after Mason and I had way too much fun ‘trying’ to make another baby. Hiding my head under the pillow, I silently curse myself for not making him hang the damn curtains last night.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says in his sleepy voice from the other side of the bed.

I grunt my displeasure at him without moving. Lifting the fluffy shield from my head, he rolls me onto my back and kisses the top of my forehead. His head is propped up by his elbow, and he’s smiling down at me adoringly. “Someone’s grumpy this morning,” he teases, tickling my bare belly with his free hand. You can’t be pregnant already, right?”

Chuckling, I roll my eyes and shake my head. “No, silly, I’m still on birth control; I can’t be pregnant yet. I’m grouchy because I’m still sleepy and the sun is blinding me.”

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