EPILOGUE
HARLOW
Two years had passed since Vegas, and I still couldn’t believe this was my life.
Standing at the front counter of Syn’s tattoo shop, I watched the afternoon sunlight filter through the storefront windows. The walls were covered in flash art, Syn’s distinct style in every piece. They were dark and complex designs. My favorite was the phoenix she drew last month.
Life moved fast after Vegas. Owen graduated that spring and got drafted to the Red River Renegades, the same team as Jax.
I transferred to the University of Tennessee, finished my nursing degree with honors, and promptly decided that what I really wanted to do was help Syn run her tattoo shop when I wasn’t traveling with Owen during hockey season.
My dad had looked at me like I’d lost my mind when I told him. Four years of nursing school to work the front desk of a tattoo parlor?
But it made sense to me. I loved everything about the shop, and Syn needed someone she could trust to handle the business side while she focused on the art.
Plus, I got to spend my days with my best friend instead of pulling twelve-hour shifts at a hospital. Win-win.
We bought a house two doors down from Jax and Kaia in a subdivision that was slowly becoming our own little compound. Trystan and Cam were in the process of closing on a place three houses down. Syn had bought the lot across the street with plans to build next year.
It was everything I ever wanted and more than I ever dreamed possible.
The front door chimed, pulling me from my thoughts.
Ryat walked in, all six-foot-two inches of dark hair, blue eyes, and enough tattoos to cover most of his visible skin. He was one of Owen and Jax’s teammates, and somehow, against all odds and Syn’s initial protests, he became her boyfriend about a year ago.
I grinned at him. “I don’t think you have any spots left for more tattoos.” Syn had tattooed about 50 percent of his tattoos. The other half he had before he met her.
He smirked, that cocky expression that used to annoy Syn, but now made her blush, which I didn’t even know was possible growing up.
“Always room for one more.” He winked, then his gaze dropped to my belly, his expression softening. “Does she really make you stand on your feet all day?”
I shifted my weight, one hand automatically going to my belly. Thirty-six weeks. In a few weeks, we would meet our daughter.
Our daughter.
The thought still sent a thrill through me, even after months of knowing that Owen and I were having a baby girl.
Just four more weeks until I get to see if she has Owen’s smile or my nose. Until I got to hold her, smell that newborn baby smell, and start the greatest adventure of our lives.
The thought made my chest tight in the best way.
I laughed, rubbing the spot where our daughter was currently using my ribs as a soccer ball. “She runs a tight ship. But I was just waiting on Owen.”
Ryat grabbed one of the waiting room chairs and slid it across the floor toward me. “Sit. Please. Before Owen shows up and blames me for not taking care of his pregnant wife. Then Syn will kill me for letting you overdo it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sit anyway. You know how she gets.”
He wasn’t wrong. Syn had been almost as protective of me during this pregnancy as Owen had been.
I sat, mostly because my feet were killing me, and standing for the past three hours probably hadn’t been my smartest decision.
“She’s finishing up with a client right now. Should be done in about ten minutes.”
“Good.” He dropped into the chair across from me, his knee bouncing. “I’m taking her to dinner after. I figured she could use a break from the shop.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Don’t tell her I’m sweet. She’ll just argue about it.”
“You two are so weird.”
The door chimed again, and my heart did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when Owen walked into a room.
He looked ridiculously good in dark jeans, a grey Red River Renegades hoodie, his hair slightly messy. His face lit up when he saw me, a smile that was only mine.
“Hey, beautiful.” He crossed the room, stopping to clasp hands with Ryat in a complicated handshake-hug thing guys did. “What’s up, man? Syn working late?”
“She’s finishing up a client, so I thought I would wait.” Ryat grinned. “Plus, someone needs to make sure your wife actually sits down.”
Owen turned to me, his hand automatically going to my belly. “How’s my girl?”
“Which one?”
“Both of you.”
“We’re hungry. Your daughter has been demanding tacos for the past hour.”
“Tacos sound good.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my lips. “Come on. Let’s get you fed before you get hangry.”
“I don’t get hangry.”
“You absolutely get hangry.”
Ryat snorted. “She definitely gets hangry. Last week, she yelled at Syn for humming too loudly.”
“She was humming the same three notes over and over,” I defended, letting Owen help me to my feet. “It was like Chinese water torture but with sound.”
I stepped forward and stopped.
Something warm and wet flooded down my legs, soaking through my leggings and pooling on Syn’s hardwood floor.
Oh.
Oh no.
My gaze dropped to the puddle, then up at Owen. His expression went from amused to absolutely terrified in approximately two seconds.
“Harlow.” His voice came out strangled. “Did you just...”
“My water broke.”
“Your water broke.” He repeated it like he was trying to convince himself it was real. “Right now. Your water just broke. Right now.”
“That’s generally what happens when your water breaks.”
“But you’re not due for four more weeks.”
“Babies don’t really care about due dates.”
“Oh fuck.” He spun in a circle, his hands going to his hair. “Oh fuck, fuck, oh fuck. Okay. Okay. This is happening. This is really happening. We need to... I need to... the bag. Did we pack the hospital bag? Where’s the hospital bag?”
“At home.”
“At home.” His eyes went wide. “The bag with all the things is at home. All the important things. The baby things.”
“Owen…”
“I’ll go get it. I’ll drive home and get the bag and come back and…”
I reached out, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie. “You are not leaving me.”
“Right. Right. No leaving. Bad plan.” He looked at Ryat, who had also gone pale. “Hospital. We need to get to the hospital. Can you drive? I don’t think I can drive. My hands are shaking. Look at my hands.”
“I can see your hands.” Ryat frowned.
“They’re shaking.”
Ryat was already on his feet, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, I’ll drive.”
A contraction hit, sharp and breathtaking. I doubled over, my hand gripping Owen’s arm.
“Okay,” I managed through gritted teeth. “Okay, we need to go. Now.”
The door to the back room burst open, and Syn appeared, taking in the scene. Her client, a college kid getting his first tattoo, peeked out behind her with wide eyes.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Her gaze dropped to the puddle on her floor. “Oh shit.”
“My water broke.”
“I can see that.” She turned to the college kid. “We’re done. Come back next week for touch-ups. Get out.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door.
Syn was already in motion, grabbing her purse from behind the counter, her phone from her pocket. “Ryat, help Owen get her to the car. I’ll lock up. Owen, stop freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“You’re definitely freaking out.”
“Our daughter is coming. I’m allowed to freak out.”
Another contraction, harder this time. I made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and Owen’s face went from panic to pure terror.
“Harlow? Baby? Are you okay? Should we call an ambulance? We should call an ambulance. Ryat, call an ambulance.”
“We’re not calling an ambulance.” I straightened as the contraction eased, breathing hard. “We’re five minutes from the hospital. Just... help me to the car.”
Between Owen and Ryat, they managed to get me outside and into Ryat’s truck, which was bigger and more comfortable than Owen’s. Owen climbed in the back with me, keeping my hand in a death grip. Syn took the passenger seat, twisting around to watch me with worried eyes.
“You’re doing great,” she kept saying. “Breathe. Just breathe.”
Ryat drove like a man possessed but somehow more controlled than Owen would have been, expertly weaving through traffic while Syn called Jax and Kaia to let them know what was happening.
“You’re doing great,” Owen kept saying, over and over, his free hand gripping mine so tight I was losing circulation. “You’re amazing. You’re so strong. We’re almost there. Just keep breathing.”
“I am breathing.”
“Keep doing that.”
“Owen.”
“Yeah?”
“You need to breathe, too. You’re turning purple.”
He sucked in a gulp of air, and I would have laughed if another contraction hadn’t chosen that moment to tear through me.
We made it to the hospital in record time. The next few hours blurred together: admissions, the birthing room, nurses checking my vitals, and the anesthesiologist for my epidural. Owen never left my side, holding my hand through every contraction, letting me squeeze until his fingers turned white.
Jax and Kaia showed up shortly after we were admitted.
“I can see the head,” the doctor announced. “One more push, Harlow. You’re almost there.”
“You hear that?” Owen said, his forehead pressed against mine. “One more push. You can do this.”
“I know I can do this. I’m the one doing all the work here.”
He laughed, the sound watery.
One more push. That’s all it took.
And then she was here.
Our daughter.
The doctor placed her on my chest, this tiny, screaming, perfect little human, and the world stopped. It felt like in that moment, everything changed. I changed.
“Oh my…” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks as my hands came up to cradle her. “Owen, look at her.”
He was crying. Full-on sobbing, tears streaming down his face as he stared at our little girl with wonder.
“She’s perfect,” he choked out.
“Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?” A blonde nurse in blue scrubs asked.
He nodded as more tears streamed down his cheeks. He followed their instructions, and then the nurse took her to get her cleaned up.
“Six pounds, four ounces,” the nurse announced, cleaning her off gently. “Strong, healthy lungs. Congratulations, Mom and Dad.”
The nurse wrapped her in a hospital blanket and handed her back to me.
Lucy. We named her Lucy after Owen’s mom, and looking at her now, I knew we made the right choice.
She had Owen’s nose. My chin. A shock of dark hair that stuck up at odd angles, and when she finally stopped crying and opened her eyes, they were the most beautiful shade of blue I’d ever seen.
“Hi, baby girl,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome to the world.”
Owen leaned over us, his arm around my shoulders, his hand gently stroking Lucy’s cheek. “She’s ours,” he said. “We made her.”
“We did.”
A knock on the door made us look up. Syn peeked her head in, her eyes already red from crying, Ryat right behind her with his hand on her waist. “Can we come in? Or is it still family only?”
“Get in here,” I said, waving them in.
They filed in one by one. Jax and Kaia. Syn rushed to my side immediately, with Ryat following.
“She’s beautiful,” Syn breathed, moving closer to get a better look.
“Can I hold her?” Jax asked.
I nodded, and Owen carefully transferred Lucy into his arms. Jax cradled her like she was made of glass, his expression melting into something so tender it made my chest ache.
“Hey there, little one,” he murmured. “I’m your Uncle Jax..” He shifted so Kaia could see the baby.
Syn was next, holding Lucy. “She has Owen’s nose,” she observed, then looked up at me with a grin. “Poor kid.”
“Hey,” Owen protested, but he was smiling.
“I’m kidding. It’s a good nose.”
Ryat moved closer to Syn, looking over her shoulder at Lucy with an expression of wonder. “She’s tiny.”
“Most babies are,” Syn said.
“You want to hold her?” Owen asked.
Ryat looked startled. “Me? I don’t... I’ve never held a baby before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Owen gestured him over. “Come on. She’s tougher than she looks.”
Syn carefully transferred Lucy to Ryat’s arms, adjusting his hold. He stared down at Lucy, his expression a mix of pure panic and awe.
“What if I drop her?”
“You’re not going to drop her,” Syn said, but she kept one hand on his arm, steadying him. “Just support her head. Like that. See? You’re doing fine.”
“What if she cries?”
“Then you hand her back to me, and I’ll give her to Harlow.” Syn was watching him with an expression I’d never seen before.
Lucy chose that moment to let out a massive yawn, her tiny fists stretching above her head. Ryat’s panic melted into wonder.
Owen pressed a kiss to my forehead, his hand finding mine and squeezing. “Thank you,” he whispered against my skin.
“For what?”
“For her. For this. For saying yes two years ago in Vegas.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, and the love in his eyes made my throat tight. “For everything.”
I smiled up at him, this man who had become my whole world.
“I love you, Mrs. Taylor.”
“I love you too.”
Lucy started fussing, and Ryat immediately looked panicked. Syn took her from him and brought her back to me. I settled her against my chest, and she quieted immediately, her tiny hand curling around my finger.
Two years ago, I was standing in a Vegas hotel room, terrified and excited and so full of love I thought I might burst.
Now I was here, in a hospital room with my husband and our daughter and the family we built together. The family that had supported us through everything. The family that had shown up when it mattered most.
Life was messy and chaotic and absolutely perfect.
And I wouldn’t change a single thing.