54. Willa
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
WILLA
“ O h, so you’re ignoring me now?” Hunter quips, strolling into Framed Orchid.
I roll my eyes at the stupid-ass smirk on his face.
It’s a little past three, and between Hunter, Ashlie, and Trevor, my phone’s been pinging nonstop.
I’m grumpy, sore, and woke up with indigestion. It’s still waging war this afternoon.
“Don’t start with me.” I take a deep breath through the lingering burn that slides across my stomach. “My back hurts, and I’ve been dealing with your fiancée all night.”
Hunter’s face drops as he whips toward Emily at the front desk. “How long has she been breathing like that?”
“Eh, since she came in.” Emily shrugs. All the humor drains from his body. I’d cuss her out for being a snitch, except another pull across my stomach makes me press my hand into my bump with a groan.
“Willa, you need to go home…” he says.
“Or I can stay here and take care of my business, and you can go home.”
His arms cross over his chest as he continues to block the door. “Naw.”
“ Ugh ! Go home, Hunter! I’m fine.” With my free hand, I reach behind my back and clutch at the aching there .
Hunter smirks. I’d punch him in the face if my hands weren’t occupied. “Naw, I’ll take you home though. You shouldn’t drive when you’re in labor.”
“I’m. Not . In. Labor,” I grit out, slumping against the wall for support.
“Willa, how long have you been grabbing at your stomach like this?” Hunter’s serious face is back.
“Off and on since last night. Nothing’s consistent. She just has no room in there, and her dad is a fucking giant. It burns whenever she moves.”
He slips his phone out of his back pocket and taps away. When my next groan turns into a whimper, he glances up, eyes circling around me like he’s trying to calculate something before tapping some more. “Get your stuff, Willa.”
“No,” I growl. “I have work to do.”
“Yeah. Like having a baby. You’re in early labor.”
“ Okay , Hunter ,” I scoff. “What do you know?”
“I remember when my mom was in labor with my sister. Anyway, let’s go.” Hunter turns to Emily. “Ashlie said you have a maternity plan for this?”
She nods slowly, her eyes growing as she realizes what’s happening. “Yeah. We have the guest photographers all set up in our system.”
“Great. You can handle the studio?”
“ I can handle the studio, Hunter,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m only thirty. Seven. Weeks- uh .” The words stutter out of me, followed by a stifled wail. “It’s too early.”
He ignores me and waits for Emily’s nod.
“Good. Don’t bother Willa about anything studio related until you hear from Ashlie. We don’t want her stressed about work through all of this.”
Emily shakes out her shoulders and sits up in her chair. “Got it. We have it covered.”
“Where’s your stuff?” Hunter asks me. I stare at him, annoyed that he walked into my studio, bossed around my employee, and called out the cramping I’ve been dealing with for what it really is—labor pain. As the realization dawns on me, the intensity of my glare fizzles out, and I relent.
“It’s all at my desk,” I say, turning toward the back of the studio.
“I got you. Car’s unlocked.”
“Did Trevor put you up to this? I’m fully capable of getting my own shit.”
Hunter’s eyes dance with mirth as he shakes his head.
“You think we don’t all know that, Willa?
You’re a fucking badass. Now get in the damn car.
You’re not doing this”—he waves a hand toward my bump—“on your own.” Stepping closer, he puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and levels me with a stare that’s equal parts compassion and assertiveness.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he says softly.
“Stop acting like it.” Tears well in my eyes, and I don’t even bother to wipe them away as I nod.
Hunter pulls me into a quick hug and whispers, “I’ve already talked to Trev.
The only thing you need to worry about is my niece, alright? I got you.”