Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Devon was going to lose his shit any minute.
He was tired of not being able to rest. He was tired of his feet feeling swollen, and he needed this baby to decide it was time. After what had gone on with Marissa, he had been afraid he was going to do the same thing, pop too early. But now, he was a week past his due date.
People were hovering. In fact, he really felt like he was never alone. Laird was there with Nick when they weren’t working.
When they were working, then it was Raven, his husband Ben, or Laird’s dad, or someone else.
Sometimes Naomi.
Sometimes one of the omega squad. Almost every omega he had helped give birth stopped by at one point or another to bring him soup or a book or to help him get up and move around if he needed to. That was very sweet.
Devon wanted his life back.
“Babe, if you don’t stop hovering over me, I’m going to beat you to death with my slipper.”
He glowered at Laird, who laughed in return, settling down on the couch next to him instead of trying to fuss around with his drink, and his blanket, and his book. “You can’t reach your slippers, so you don’t fool me.”
“I can kick it at you.” Although if Devon was going to do that, he should have done it before Laird sat down, when he was still in front of Devon and not on the couch next to him.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Laird put a hand on his leg. “I mean, I know what’s wrong, but is there anything I can actually do, or do you just want me to listen?”
“No. There’s nothing you can actually do. I’m bored and miserable. I don’t like this. I don’t want to have this baby anymore.” Devon chuckled softly. “I just don’t understand why he’s being so damn stubborn. I don’t want to end up being induced.”
“I read the pregnancy books for dummies. I mean, you haven’t done the nesting thing, you haven’t showed a lot of signs, and I just don’t think you’re close. Maybe you got the due date wrong.”
Devon glared at his husband. “Laird. I’m an accoucheur. It’s my job to get the due date right. Unfortunately, it’s not an exact science, but he’s turned, he’s big, he’s ready; he just needs to do it.”
“Fair enough.” Laird yawned and sank back into the couch. “So, we could watch television. I could jack you off. I know orgasms sometimes start labor…”
“You think we haven’t tried that enough?” Maybe like eight times a day over the last week, and his dick had rug-burn. “Maybe I’m having a hysterical pregnancy, and I just don’t know it.”
Laird just stared at him. “We’ve done the ultrasounds. We’ve seen the baby’s face. That was not a mass hallucination. It was not a trick pony at all. That is my son.”
“Yeah, he’s been very still today. No kicking.”
“There’s no room to kick.” Laird looked at his belly which was gigantic. “Poor thing. He’s just smooshed in there.”
“I am going to kill you when I can reach you.” Devon was only half teasing. He might smoosh Laird, dammit. Ugh. He put a hand on his belly. “Cameron, we need to have a talk, kiddo.”
“Does that actually work?”
Devon shot Laird a glare. “Look, did I ask your opinion on whether or not I could talk to my son? No. He and I are having a discussion about how he needs to get out because I’m tired, and I don’t want to do this anymore.
And if somebody doesn’t do something soon, I’m going to have a fucking stroke! ”
D’Artagnan came bouncing up, barking with the power of his whole soul, telling Laird to back off, he was sure.
“See? The puppy loves me.”
About that time Porthos came leaping over the back of the couch and landed right on his belly.
Bang!
Then another cat flew out from the other side like he was attacking his brother. His front legs were out, paws outstretched, landing right on his belly.
Bang!
“Goddamn it!” He pushed the cats off, stood up, and whipped around to point at Laird to tell him to get the cats away.
That was when his water broke.
“Oh dear.”
“Whoa.” Laird’s eyes went wide. “Babe.”
“I know. We need to get the cats and dog out so we can clean up. After that we can call your dad and see if he can take the puppy for the duration, just to be safe. Then Raven, to let him know we’ll need the birth center.” He marshaled Laird, who looked a little panicky.
Maybe a lot.
He waited for Laird to move, and when he didn’t, Devon just started heading up the stairs.
He needed to get cleaned up and get changed. He’d call Raven and possibly Nick so he could maybe hit Laird once or twice really hard for him.
Because he had no doubt that Laird was still standing right where he left him in the front room, but that was okay.
Devon had this.
He grabbed his phone and headed into the bathroom and called Raven, putting it on speaker so he could strip down.
“Is it time?”
“Membranes ruptured about five minutes ago. No real contractions to speak of. I’m getting ready. Laird is catatonic in the front room. I’ve got some phone calls to make. You can expect me in…let’s say twelve hours?” He started cleaning up really well.
“Do you want to labor at the birthing center? Do you want to do it at home? Had you decided yet?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it too hard. I sort of want to come to the birthing center. I don’t know, though. It’s still… Do I want to have my baby at work?”
“You have a point. If I come to you, then we don’t have to worry about Laird being catatonic, but you won’t have all the neat equipment. I mean, I know how you love that birthing stool.”
“I do love that stool. Why don’t I have one here at the house?”
“Because they cost five thousand dollars?”
“Oh, right. That would be why. Yeah, no, I’ll come out to you.”
“Do you want me to just run by and pick you up?” Raven asked.
He put on a soft pair of super loose pants, laughing softly as the first contraction hit him, and he hummed through it.
His baby was coming.
“Surely Laird will actually get his head out of his ass in order to drive me. I think he’ll be fine. I think he’s just a little stunned. Maybe he’s cleaning right now as we speak, mopping the floor.”
Raven cracked up. “You’re adorable. Does Laird know how to mop?”
“Oh, I’ve seen him mop up blood all over the place. He’s really good at cleaning. They teach them that at EMT school.”
“Oh, neat. Well, that will also serve him well in physio, right? There’s some goo involved in that.”
“There can be, for sure.” Devon had already packed his go-bag, so he just grabbed it and put it on top of the bed so Laird would remember it. Then he sat for a moment, because he was breathing hard.
“Okay, well keep me informed via text and call me if anything changes. When you’re ready for me to meet you at the birthing center, if I’m not still here, I’ll come on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He grinned because Raven was always so calm and controlled about everything, and it made it easier to just take a deep breath and remember that this was going to take a while. “I’ll be a couple of hours, for sure. I can let myself in.”
It was his building after all.
He didn’t bother to go back downstairs in any sort of hurry. It was kind of nice to just sit for a second, experience this, and think about things.
Things like he needed to make sure that everything was put together in the nursery.
Devon frowned and headed in to look, stopping in the hallway to breathe through a contraction for a minute, and then going to check his supplies.
He had everything he could think of—a diaper service, all things ready for the little one to come home. Rows and rows and rows of little socks, bibs, onesies. A teeny tiny pair of jeans.
The bed was ready.
The bassinet, on its rollers, was ready to come back and forth from their bedroom.
He even had a swing.
This was a perfect place to raise his son. He wiped off a smudge on the switch plate on the wall with his shirt.
Then he went to straighten a picture.
By the time Laird found him, he was sitting in front of the changing table, counting diapers. It was imperative to be sure they had enough diapers and covers to make it through the first few days of their little one being home.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
He shrugged. “I’m just messing with things. I want to make sure everything looks good. Did you get everything cleaned up downstairs?”
“Yeah…” Laird blinked at him. “Seriously, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting things ready for the baby.” Surely that was obvious.
“Are you figuring this is the appropriate time?”
“When is a better time? By the time we come home? There’s going to be a baby.”
“I mean, it just seems like—” Laird shook his head. “You know what? Whatever makes you happy. Do you want some help?”
“I’d love some, thank you.” He was ramping up to another contraction when Laird settled, and he leaned in, breathing through it.
Laird rubbed his back, staying quiet and humming low in his chest. “That was a good one, huh?”
“It was.” He kissed Laird’s cheek. “I’m going to go up to the birthing center in a bit, but I’m not ready.”
“Okay, when you’re ready, let me know, and we’ll go. Do you want me to put the go-bag in the car?”
“Oh, not yet. Did you clean up downstairs?” That seemed really important. He needed to clean up downstairs, make sure things weren’t gross for when the baby came home. “Did I ask that already?”
“You did, and I did. I mopped everything. I got everything done for us. Don’t worry about it. D’Artagnan is in his x-pen for the moment, and the cats are hiding because I yelled at them a little bit.”
Devon chuckled. “They do hate it when you yell at them, but it is the way it goes sometimes.”
“They can be a lot when they want to be, but I think it was just because they were worried about you.” Laird bumped shoulders with him lightly.
“Can you count these diapers? I keep coming up with a different number every time I count them.”
Laird was being super easy-going and accommodating, which was really nice. He didn’t feel terribly reasonable right now, so it was nice that Laird was doing all of that kind of heavy lifting for him.