Epilogue
Four days before Valentine's Day
Billy
“H e’s here. It’s happening.” Breanna’s voice rattled down the phone line.
“Bruce, honey, please be more specific.”
The last time she’d said those exact words, Revv Ryder had driven into their life, nearly ruined Christmas, then left for Bali – to everyone’s eternal surprise – with a smitten Sharee DeLuca!
While the family had been glad to see the Revv’s taillights shrinking in the distance, they had been sad to see Sharee leave.
Sharee’s efforts, combined with his mother’s, had skyrocketed the Carmichael Christmas Tree Farm, and all its endeavours, into the international spotlight. If ‘breaking the internet’ had been Holly’s and Sharee’s goal, they achieved it, with plans for rapid expansion of the tree farm business, and a sub-branch dedicated specifically to what blogs, newspapers and podcasts had dubbed ‘Mrs Claus’ Naughty Bakery.’ Plans for the industrial-sized bakery had already been submitted to Moonshine Municipal Council for approval.
Crank Shaft ’s ratings had also been through the roof, but with Revv ‘unavailable’ in Bali, Trudy and Jaxon had been the ones to celebrate the news with Breanna, over a quiet, intimate dinner at The Pope. For hours they’d laughed at tweets, emails and social media comments that had actively encouraged Breanna to throw down her hat and wallop Piers Ryder.
Billy, or any one of his ‘hot kilted brothers’, according to the wild west of the internet, had encouraged everything from courses in disability awareness to burying him in a deep hole in the woods.
The family’s lack of restraint had received continuous, overwhelming praise, and Trudy and Jaxon were quite pleased with themselves for capturing the ‘real’ Revv Ryder for his adoring fans. This had been the final nail in the Crank Shaft coffin, the producers actively seeking a new host for the next season.
“You want me to be more specific.” Bre groaned, her words bringing his mind back to the present. “Fair enough. So, you know how I literally just left The Pope after finally catching up with Jillian …”
He grunted in acknowledgement, inhaling the thick scent of beer that filled the air. Throwing the towel down onto the bar, he recalled how happy Bre had been to see her friend, and how well Jillian Maitland had looked this afternoon. With her floral dresses and gentle disposition, Jillian was the vision of femininity that Elanor had always wished for Breanna.
Elanor had no idea, of course, that Jillian was occasionally a nudist and that she was planning to attend the annual Greasy Pig Chase out at the old Brumby Homestead – a dirty and decidedly unladylike endeavour.
The more Billy thought on it, the more similarities he found between his Bruce and Jillian. There was a time Billy had considered them to be complete opposites, but both women were, in one way or another, grieving the loss of their mothers, and each woman was her own biggest obstacle.
For the last few hours, the women’s laughter had filled his tavern – and his heart – with joy. Breanna looked so light, so at ease, and it fuelled him in strange ways to see her so peaceful.
Thankfully, after a busy Christmas period, Jillian had reconnected with Breanna, resulting in the last few hours of reminiscing, and generally catching up on the last few months of each other’s lives. Billy had been too busy behind the bar to ascertain what, if anything, Breanna told Jillian about the events of Christmas, and their new relationship status as More Than Just Friends.
They hadn’t announced it, exactly, but neither assumed it was necessary. Moonshine was a small town, and gossip travelled fast. Let people believe and think whatever they wanted – all that mattered lie between Billy and Bre anyway. It was no one else’s business but theirs.
“So … yeah …” Breanna continued, “my waters just broke.”
Billy’s spine snapped straight, his feet already carrying him around the long wooden bar, across the carpeted floor that, despite being new, still smelled of too many beers spilled, and out the door. The phone rustled as she moved.
“I still can’t see my toes, but they feel … well, let’s just say I’m pretty sure I dropped my lady juices all over them. And – ooh!!!”
A pained noise echoed down the phone, halting his retort to her less-than-ladylike descriptions.
“Bre? You okay?” Heart pounding, he ran for the car park where Jillian Maitland had just escorted her – his – their – best friend.
“No!” Bre whimpered as he reached her. “I’m not okay, Billy.” Reading his face, she added, “We had plans for later this week – Valentine’s Day. Our first Global Day of Romance as a proper couple and my body goes and ruins everything ... again! I really should just give up on making any sort of official plans with youuuuu …” Her voice strained as her body shuddered. “Billy!” The word was a whimper. “He’s not waiting! This is happening. Call Reece. Get the bags. Get–”
“I’ve got you, honey. Hold on.”
He considered the distance between The Pope and the hospital, helping Bre shuffle back towards the tavern.
As soon as they made it through the door, he growled at the nearest patron, “Call Dr Reece Hargraves, now ,” clearing a path with glares and Bre’s heavy breathing, towards the stairs that led to his apartment upstairs. The pub floor was not the place to birth a baby.
“Well, this little baby adventure started upstairs,” she said, somehow reading his mind even now. “Might as well finish up there, too.”
If worry wasn’t pumping through his veins instead of blood, he might’ve laughed. Loosed one of his wall-shaking booms that still seemed to catch Breanna off guard and make her face light up like she’d just won the lottery.
“Ooooohhhh!!” What had to be a contraction racked through her body as Bre doubled over, hand on her stomach. “Fuuuuuck …”
“You need to keep walking, Breanna.”
“Could you fucking walk inside when Seth kicked you in the balls that time? No. It’s physically impossible to keep your feet moving when all hell is breaking loose in your nether regions!” she snapped, her mood changing two seconds later. “Billy, I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He hoarded the apology, dropping a kiss to her temple.
“That is a fair point,” he conceded.
“Meredith, we’ll need towels and ice. Upstairs.”
“Girl, you’re having your baby?” the bartender squealed in unrestrained joy.
“MEREDITH!” Billy boomed. “NOW!”
Meredith stopped her cooing and launched into action. “You got it, boss!”
Bre curled into his side, his arm slung low, supporting her as best as he could. The stairs took forever to scale.
“If Richard thinks he can not-so-subtly request more of your huge babies to come out of this body, he’s got another think coming! All that shit about four’s better and wishing for … ooohhhh!!!!!”
“You were the one who wished every Christmas could be the same.” He earned a fiery stare, shrugging it off. “Pregnant every summer? Sounds nice, right?”
“Shove your rhetorical questions up your clacker!” she told him curtly, throwing her Shit Show Supervisor hat off the bed. It had been the only thing she’d worn for him last night. His cock twitched at the memory, just briefly, before concern replaced all other feelings in his body.
“Ah, home.” She sunk down onto the bed, telling him, “I am not moving, unless Reece brings a crane. I hope you’re not attached to these sheets, because we’re throwing them out once this baby is out of me.”
We . The word still sent a thrill through him.
“Need anything?”
Her hand reached out, inviting his strong grip. “Talk me through it all again. The list. Are we ready for a baby?”
“We have everything we need,” he reassured her. “The bassinette sits in the corner. The legs have more teeth marks than wood thanks to Mr Pickles. We bought the change table, that creepy googley-eyes teddy bear–”
“ Cute googley-eyed teddy bear,” she corrected, squeezing his hand tighter as another spasm rolled through her. Billy checked her watch, keeping time, so he could tell Reece how far apart the contractions were.
“And we have a huge pile of nappies …”
He’d been practising how to change the bear one-handed, using his teeth to undo the Velcro side panels. Some men would have let the mother change every nappy, even if they had two hands. But there was no way Billy would let that happen, especially when he was capable of the task. Hell, he looked forward to the raspberries he could blow on that baby’s belly, and the giggling that would ensue. Plus, he knew Bre would never ask for help, but he sure as shit wouldn’t let that stop him from offering it.
“We are ready.”
“Billyyyyyyy!”
“I am here, Breanna.”
“Don’t leave me.” The words were a whispered plea, a prayer. “I love you so much. I do want to marry you, one day. I’m an idiot for saying otherwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise!!!”
“Bre, honey, this is all happening too fast.”
Bre huffed. “The wedding talk?”
“This birth. The books indicate–”
“Here’s your ice and towels!” Meredith’s head appeared in the doorway. “Holy shit, girl, I can totally see that baby’s head!”
“GET OUT!” Breanna screamed, hurling the bear towards the door.
“Okay, okay, no need to be so grouchy, girl!” Meredith slunk back to the stairs, pausing halfway to yell up, “The hot doc just pulled up outside! And he’s running …” The word purred from her mouth, but Billy focused his attention back to Breanna.
His Breanna, who gripped his hand so tightly.
Reece appeared at his side, saying something Billy couldn’t hear, thanks to the pounding in his ears. “Billy? Billy!” Both Reece’s hands gripped the sides of his face, forcefully focusing his attention.
“You here, Daddy? You with me? We need you, okay? She’s not making it to the hospital. Typical Henderson, this kid is its own master and isn’t playing by anyone else’s rules. This baby is coming now.”
With a short nod, Billy’s head was freed.
“Right.” Reece dug into his bag for medical gloves. “Let’s do this.”
An hour later, the babe tucked into her bare chest for skin-to-skin time, and Reece downstairs organising celebratory drinks, Billy gingerly climbed into the bed beside Breanna.
“Just look at this perfect little baby,” Breanna cooed.
“He is perfect.” Billy kissed her temple. “Just like his mother.”
“Let’s hope he got your eyes.”
“And your hair.”
“Oh, God, this poor kid. He’ll fit in with all the other redheads in Scotland, though, so it’ll be okay.”
“We’re going, then?” They’d never revisited the idea of travelling together, but she seemed awfully certain now.
“How many more years will you have with your grandparents, really, before they won’t be able to travel anymore? I’d like little Will to meet them.”
“Will?”
“Aye.” She beamed up at him. “It’s a bit of a wasted name, since you never use it. Figured he might as well have it.”
Brushing stringy tendrils of hair off her face, Billy showered her in kisses, one for every freckle on her face. After a long while, she giggled, saying, “Stop. I must be bowfin right now.”
A wide smile parted his beard. “You could never be gross to me, Bre. And I will never stop loving you,” he told her seriously. “I cannot. You …”
She waited for him to loosen the words that had lodged in his throat. Billy took in his woman, his baby, and the home he’d made for them here, above his bar.
“I love you, Breanna Henderson. I always have, and I always will. You, me, us . Here. Honey, if this isn’t a fantasy, then I don’t know what is.”
“I agree completely.” She yawned, closing her eyes, and snuggling close. “Hold us.”
Sliding his arm gently around them, he could have purred like a cat, he was so content. Breanna breathed deeply, one hand reaching up to idly play with his hair.
“I can’t wait until next Christmas,” she said dreamily. “Little Will is going to love the farm in December. The lights, the cameras–”
“The action?” Billy waggled his eyebrows, struggling to contain his own laughter as she snorted into her hand, trying not to wake the baby.
“We’ll see about that.”
“We might need a ladder.”
“And condoms.”
Billy chuckled, the deep sound spreading ripples of warmth through his chest. “I will make a list.”
“Okay,” she said contentedly. “You do that. I’m done trying to plan things.”
“Bre?”
“Mmmm?”
“All I want for Christmas is you. And little Will.”
“And the Christmas Pickle?”
A chuckle rolled through his chest, shaking them all. “And that. I already have a few favours I will ask you for …”
“Good.” She patted his cheek blindly, sighing blissfully. “Me too.”