Chapter 82 #2
“Not really,” I remind her. “That was almost four months ago. I don’t baby shower-wedding reception nights are a thing.”
She nearly rolls her eyes at me. “I think you two should have privacy.”
“You being in the apartment gives us privacy!”
“Sweetie, I’ll just be down at the barn.
It’s not like I’ll be miles away.” Alizée now lives in her RV on the ranch.
Because she’s not a wolf, and because she’s midwife to me and to Shawn—and will be for Pavin, too—and because of her position as one of the witches’ representatives on the fledgling council being formed, Jax is letting her presence slide.
If she wants to build a house here, in the compound, she’ll have to go through initiation.
Todd installed a small septic tank, water connection, and electrical hookup for her RV. With her five horses here, it feels like maybe she won’t leave.
I hope.
She helps out with cattle, riding Costco for roundups, as well as helps out with the vampires’ herd we’re still boarding.
And she’s going to be the midwife for me and Shawn when our babies are born.
Oh, fuck yes—I mean frick, yes, I’m having it at the clinic, not at home. But knowing I’ll have her calming presence at my side makes me freak out a little less as my delivery date draws closer.
After a lot of talking, and Jax doing an extremely rare thing and putting it to a full pack vote, the Memphis vampires purchased one hundred acres about five miles away, with the pack’s blessing.
Once it’s completely fenced in and they get their operation going, they’ll move their herd.
Meanwhile, they quickly erected a huge, enclosed pole barn and moved enough RVs there that their people can comfortably live there until they construct new buildings.
Meaning the pack has the rec center back.
I know from Jax’s talks with Todd that he’s thrilled many of our pack have volunteered their time and expertise to the vampires, including proposing we expand the pack school and allow the vampire children and fledglings to attend as well.
It’s a new day, to sound a little melodramatic in the best way possible.
“You are kinda loud,” Shawn teases. “And you know as well as I do what y’all will be doing tonight.”
“Fu—frick you.”
He grins. “You say that now, but wait until initiation.”
Mom gets up, smiling, and walks around to kiss me on top of the head. “I want you and Todd to have fun tonight, sweetie. I just didn’t want to drop it on you at the last minute for you to pout.”
“I’m not pouting, dam-angit!” I pout while Shawn bursts out laughing.
“Keep that up,” he teases, “and Todd’s going to own your ass even more with IOUs for the swear jar.”
Mom pats the top of my head. “I know you’re not pouting.” But she smiles as she walks away.
I look at Shawn and he laughs again. “Dude, your face will freeze like that.”
I shove another forkful of cake into my piehole. Fortunately, I’m wearing one of Todd’s T-shirts, and it hangs down past my hips. Even though I’m reclining, it still covers me.
Because the bike shorts I’m wearing—pretty much the only pants I wear now—do absolutely nothing to conceal my near constant erection.
Like the one I have now at the thought of what Todd’s going to do to me tonight.
The Lycra shorts keep it pinned against my body, at least, and I can wear sweatpants or drawstring shorts over them when I need to go down to the office in the barn or out in public.
But throughout the past week, when I knew I had the house to myself, I started freeballing it and sitting on towels because when Todd comes up to the house, I’m instantly on my hands and knees and waving my ass in his face for a fucking.
The other night, he tied me up in bed, shoved the vibrating butt plug up me, hooked me up to the milker, and took a nap next to me on the bed because I’d already worn him out fucking and still wanted more.
I lay there for the better part of an hour before I finally tapped out and nudged him with my head to wake him up.
I probably would have lasted longer if I’d hydrated more during the day.
But I know Jax has it worse, because he asked Todd for information about where to purchase the same huge strap-on Todd has that Shawn loves, a milker, and a vibrating butt plug, and if they make a larger-sized plug.
Good, because he can’t borrow ours.
Especially since they’re increasingly being used on—in—me.
The door to the hallway opens, and Bruce Marchman sticks his head out. “I think I’m going to head out, but I wanted to say goodbye first.”
Shawn and I somehow manage to get up and out of the loungers to waddle over for hugs.
Hugging a vampire?
Yep, my life is officially weird in the best way possible now.
“Thanks for coming,” I say. “It was great having you here!”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”
Shawn also hugs him. “Don’t be a stranger, man.”
“I won’t. We’ll be busy the next few weeks with fencing, though.”
“Well, if you need babysitters, we’re here,” Shawn says.
Actually, yeah, Shawn and I have kind of earned ourselves a rep as the favorite babysitters with the vampire nest, because we let the kids get away with murder.
Eh, metaphorically.
The adults are still trying to deal with moving what’s salvageable from their old home, getting new jobs, and rebuilding their lives so, understandably, they want trusted babysitters who can hold their own with the little hooligans.
But they’re great. Alizée is still closely working with them and says that their healing is on track as much as it can be after having gone through such a traumatic event.
Shawn and I have talked in private and agree Bruce Marchman isn’t a friend we ever foresaw, but now that the fanged fighter is in our inner friend circle, neither of us could imagine it any other way.
Todd and Jax walk over to also give him hugs, and they walk with him down to the garage, where he parked. We’d set up several tarps hanging on the lanai so he could be outside with us for most of the event and not be stuck in the house.
I waddle back to my lounger, where the remainder of my piece of cake awaits me, when I feel…something. I’m still standing, and had bent over to pick up the small paper plate holding my cake.
When I look down, I realize there’s liquid soaking through my bike shorts and running down my legs.
Hmm. Interesting. I mean, I didn’t pee myself…
I’m still shoving the remainder of my cake into my face when the first contraction hits, and that’s when 2+2 finally stops equaling 5 in my brain, and I gasp.
“Todd!” I scream, the cake plate in one hand and holding on to the back of the lounger with the other.
Everyone turns and looks at me, suddenly surrounding me, I’m yanking my plate away from whoever is trying to take it from me because there’s still frosting on it I want to lick off, and people are trying to get me moving.
Todd shows up and scoops me up, and next thing I know, Alizée’s driving my SUV with Mom riding shotgun, and Todd and I are in the backseat, and…
Oh, shit! I’m about to have a baby!
“It’s too soon!” I gasp between contractions.
“No, it’s not,” Alizée reassures me while it feels like she’s hitting every fucking pothole between the ranch and the clinic. “You’re both shifters.”
“You said she probably won’t be a shifter!” I argue.
“Baby, breathe,” Todd says.
“No!” I yell. “I’m arguing, here!”
“The baby of two shifters,” Alizée says, “even if it’s not a shifter, is usually larger and born sooner than a human or only part-shifter baby. Honey, she was almost eight pounds at your last scan two weeks ago. I’m going out on a limb and saying she’s probably overdue at this point.”
I want to argue more, but then another contraction hits, and fuck that hurts!
I grab the front of Todd’s T-shirt and pull him in. “Swear jar doesn’t count in labor.”
He laughs. “Whatever you say, baby.”
“And you’re having the next one.”
He grins. “We’ll talk about that later.”
Well, later is only an hour later. Because then I’m in my hospital bed cradling our daughter, who didn’t even give me time to get an epidural before she made her entry like a less lethal ass-burster right out of Alien.
And she was eight pounds five ounces, thank you very much.
The moms and Alizée are in the room with us, and I don’t mind at all. This is my family.
It feels good to be able to feel good about saying that.
Hey, I just pushed out a baby sasquatch or something, I’m allowed not to make sense.
But she is beautiful, perfect, all fifteen fingers and seven toes.
Kidding! She is beautiful.
“Todd was over ten pounds when he was born,” Iris says.
Mom gulps. “Goddess, I thought Mal was big, and he was seven.”
“That’s big?” I ask.
“You were the biggest,” she says, and only a little melancholy flashes across her face.
Lately, I’ve noticed that she only talks about my brothers up until the age Dad managed to get his hooks in them and turned them into mini-assholes.
“What are you naming her?” Alizée asks.
Todd and I have been trying out countless names over the past few months, and there’s one I keep coming back to for her first name, although I haven’t told him.
He wants me to make the final decision, and he’s told me some he absolutely doesn’t like, and promises that if I pick a name he hates, he’ll say so, and we’ll work on it.
“I’d like Kylen for her first name,” I say.
Both he and Iris freeze, their gazes wide. “Really?” Todd whispers.
I nod. “I think it works as a girl’s name.”
Mom, not realizing the significance, smiles and strokes the baby’s tiny hand. “I think that’s a beautiful name.”
Iris wipes away tears and leans in, kissing the top of my head, lingering. “I love it, sweetie. He’d love that.”
Todd interprets Mom’s confusion. “It was my dad’s name,” he softly says.
Mom hugs Iris. They’re both widows, although only one of them is happy about that fact.
“Did Dad make it in yet?” I ask, quickly clarifying, “Caleb, I mean.” Because I now have two men I call “dad”—Caleb and Pavin.
My “dad” is “the dead asshole” when I refer to him now.
Although let’s be honest, he never was a “dad.”
“I think so,” Alizée says. “Want me to call him in if he is?”
“Yes, please.”
She steps out. Todd leans in, nuzzling the top of my head. “Still want me to have the next one, baby?”
I snort. “No, I guess if I have to do allll the work…”
He chokes back laughter so he doesn’t disturb the baby. “Love you.”
I tip my head back for a kiss. “Love you, too.”
Alizée returns with Caleb, and now I can reveal our baby’s whole name. I’m pretty confident Todd will completely agree.
Caleb walks over, smiling, playing with her hand. “She’s gorgeous, son. What name did you decide on?”
Everyone looks at me. “Kylen River Reynolds Shilling.”
Caleb stares at me for a moment. “River?”
I worry maybe I guessed wrong, but then he leans in and hugs me. “Thank you,” he chokes out, stepping back and taking a tissue Mom hands him.
Todd’s blinking back tears, too. “It’s perfect, Mal.”
I stare into our daughter’s face. “I figure that way we can honor them both.”
Caleb honks as he blows his nose. “He’d be happily howling his dang human head off right now,” he tearfully says. “He would’ve been a fantastic granddad.”
I think Caleb and Iris’ love story, while tragic in the beginning, turned out to be a reverse Uno card—they ended up happy despite the circumstances.
Caleb never thought he’d ever love again after his human husband River died.
And Iris, well, suddenly widowed and in fear for her life and her son’s life…
It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Close proximity and the Goddess took over, and now they’re crazy in love, almost fifty years together, with two sons besides Todd.
Turns out Caleb is bi, and he’s one of the few pack members Mike and now Jax know can be reliably called upon when a new female member goes through initiation.
Although… I’m kind of hoping that if Mom decides to go through initiation, that Caleb won’t…
I mean…
If he does, I do not want to know about it.
Period.
Frankly, if she does, I’ll ask Todd if we can go on vacation in Australia or something. I don’t want to be anywhere near here.
Likewise, hopefully Mom won’t be anywhere near here for mine.
We’re enjoying our family time when the room door flies open and Dr. Williams rushes in, followed by three nursing aides. “Um, I hate to do this to you all, but we need to move you to another room. Like, right now.”
Alizée scowls. “What the hell?”
“Sorry, but we need this room. And Alizée, we’ll need you, too.”
From down the hall, we hear Shawn yell, “Pack Alpha or not, I’m cutting your dick off!”
“Absolutely, baby,” Jax says. “Whatever you say.”
My immediate irritation flashes over to laughter. “What do I have to do?”
“Nothing,” Dr. Williams says. “If everyone can grab things, we’ll roll this bed out and get housekeeping in for a quick clean and hope the girls hang in there long enough we can get Shawn in here before they banzai out of him.”
The room erupts into a flurry of activity, then they’re rolling me down the hall when I start laughing. “It was a five-fer!”
Todd looks upside down because he’s helping push the bed. Upside down, his confusion looks even funnier. “What?”
“Five-fer! The party was also a pre-birthday party for the babies!”
He rolls his eyes even as he smiles. “How long until I can spank him again?” he asks Alizée, who is helping us move to the other room.
She laughs. “That’s between the two of you. I only help birth ’em, not make ’em.”