Page 328 of By His Vow

“For fuck’s sake, Miles. It’s no wonder you can’t keep a woman for more than a night. Open the fucking packet and pass me one,” Tatum demands. “I feel sorry for your future—fuck. FUCK,” she bellows. “Will you two hurry up?”

“What? Why?”

“Are you timing them?”

“No. Are you?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sitting here focusing on a fucking stopwatch. They’re getting closer. Fast.”

“Okay, okay.” I find what she needs and pass them over.

Miles turns his back, giving her some privacy as she redresses.

“Call the hospital, let them know we’re on our way, and then start fucking timing. They’re going to want to know.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Oh Christ,” he mutters, pulling his cell out and finding the right app while I dial the number for the maternity ward I’ve got saved in my contacts.

In less than five minutes, we’ve discovered that Tatum’s contractions are now less than two minutes apart. We’ve got her dressed and we’re heading for the elevator.

“Oh my goodness, is everything okay?” Judith asks as we approach, turning everyone’s eyes out here our way.

“Baby’s coming,” Tatum says simply.

“Oh my gosh.” She hops to her feet. “What do you need? I’ve done this three times; I’m practically an expert.”

Tatum cries out again as another contraction hits.

“Where were you ten minutes ago while I was battling with these two clueless morons?” she asks.

“Hey,” Miles complains. “We’re doing our best. This is out of our wheelhouse right now.”

“Dude, you looked offended by a fucking sanitary towel,” I point out as Judith presses the button for the lift.

“Yeah, well. I don’t have a use for them in my life.”

Judith laughs. She’s more than aware of Miles’s shenanigans. She’s had to send desperate girls away more than once over the years.

“Well, maybe you should open yourself up to learning a little about them. Might help you understand women a little better.”

“I understand them just fine,” he scoffs, not happy with her advice.

Thankfully, the doors open and we move inside.

“Tatum, would you like me to?—”

“Motherfucker, I hate you, Kingston Callahan,” Tatum cries, I swear crushing every single bone in my hand in the process.

"No, no, we’ve got this,” I say. “Right, baby?”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not about to shit out a bowling ball.”

“Okay, now I know that isn’t anatomically correct,” Miles points out proudly.

“Shut the fuck up, Miles,” Tatum barks.

“Good luck,” Judith calls. “Send us pictures,” we hear before the doors close, and we begin to descend through the building.