Chapter Thirty-Nine
ADRIAN
Minneapolis
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked the screen for messages again. Isobel hadn’t texted me, but I had the weird feeling that something was off with her. I was sure it was just my overprotective streak that’d flared the closer we got to the end of this pregnancy. No matter what it was, I wanted to make sure I was accessible if she needed me.
“Put the phone back in your pocket, Casanova,” Chase’s brother-in-law, Miguel, commanded as he shoved a shot glass into my hand.
“I’m good.” I refused the glass, pressing it back in his direction. “Not planning to drink much today.”
“Alright, overprotective baby daddy, if you say so.”
“I don’t see your husband drinking either,” I pointed out, gesturing toward where Drew and Ethan were playing poker at the table in Evan’s suite.
“That’s because he gets horny when he’s drunk and he’s waiting until later,” he said casually, tipping the shot back and swallowing. “And he’s promised to bend me over the balcony railing later, so he’s not allowed to get sloppy drunk. That privilege is left for moi.”
Unsure of how to respond to that extreme over share, I just nodded. “Why don’t we go see what the groom is up to? ”
“He’s going over his vows for the ten millionth time. Maybe you should go help him, since you’re his editor and all.”
Evan tended to get in his head. Especially with his writing. That’s why I typically approached him with the Dickhead persona I’d carefully crafted over the years. If I coddled him and acted nicely, he’d continue to retreat into his shell. If I acted like a jackass, he’d push back and try to prove me wrong.
It’d worked out pretty well for his relationship with Chase so far. If it weren’t for me sending her books to him—knowing her work would complement his writing style—he wouldn’t be marrying her today. Then when he’d stood up for her before their book tour, I knew he was serious. I’d watched him retreat into himself after his ex, Simone, had manipulated him and then driven him into seclusion. He’d never told me how bad it’d gotten with her, but the fact he’d completely isolated himself for two years was enough to confirm she had completely shattered his self-confidence. If I could prevent anything like that from happening again, I’d piss him off to make a point.
“How’s it goin’, loverboy?” I asked, walking up behind where he was seated at the desk in the bedroom. His hair was a disaster, so I knew he was stressing over making sure his vows were perfect. He failed to account for the fact Chase thought rainbows shot out of his ass.
“Why did you never tell me how terrible my first drafts were?”
Chuckling, I glanced down at the pieces of paper he’d spread across the desk.
“Quit, you drama queen. You know you’re talented. You don’t need me blowing you up. It’s Chase’s job to blow you.”
Evan growled, turning the chair to look at me. “Keep her name out of your mouth.”
He bristled as my hand clasped his shoulder. “Seriously, though, calm the fuck down. You know she’s gonna love whatever is in those vows. You want to know why?”
He frowned, looking vulnerable.
“Because she loves you for who you are. That’s rare in a person, and you should trust that no matter what you say to her up at that altar will be perfect for you two. Just pretend the two of you are talking to each other. Everyone else doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, she’s your partner, and she loves you, perceived shortcomings and all.”
“What happened to you?” he laughed, a smile breaking through.
“I fell in love.”
He nodded, covering my hand with his. “Knocks you on your ass, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely. But in the best possible way.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders relaxed as he pushed the papers into a neat pile, placing his palm on the top of the stack.
“No problem, man. I’ve diffused your freakouts enough that I’m an old pro by now.”
He looked back at the paper on the desk. “Do you want to read them? Make sure they’re okay?”
“Nope. She’s going to love whatever you wrote. My opinion doesn’t matter.”
A loud cheer came from the other room and we both looked toward the door. “Sounds like your brother-in-law is getting a little wild in there.”
“He hasn’t started stripping yet, so we’re good.” He looked down at his watch. “Looks like it’s show time.”
He stood, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of the chair and pulling it on. “Time for me to get married.”
“You got this.”
He nodded, passing me to head to the other room. I pulled my suit jacket off the rack by the door, ready to get this wedding over with so I could get Isobel home. We had a lot of things to prepare for in the next few weeks, and not a lot of time to accomplish it.
Adrian: How’re you feeling?
Isobel: Tired.
Adrian: Have you been sitting down?
Isobel: Yes, Daddy.
Adrian: Daddy, huh? I like that. And I will be soon. Drinking your water?
Isobel: I’m okay. Back is just a little sore. Your giant child has been trying to use me as a punching bag all morning.
Adrian: It’s cause she loves her mama.
Isobel: Or she enjoys torturing me like her father.
Adrian: We’re heading downstairs. Meet you at the end of the aisle.
Isobel: I’ll be the whale in pink.
Adrian: And you’ll be a gorgeous sea creature.
Isobel: Hate you. Aren’t you supposed to be complimenting me?
Adrian: Love you too. And I did. I called you gorgeous .
Once we reached the ground level where the wedding would be held in a covered atrium, the wedding planner ushered us into place. Evan looked nervous as fuck, but I knew once he saw Chase he’d be fine.
As the music from the quartet started, my eyes were fixed on the door at the back of the room. I may not have been the one getting married—yet—but I couldn’t wait to see Isobel. Despite her insistence she was huge, I still loved seeing her round with my child. There was something insanely sexy about knowing we did that. We created that child because of our connection, which had only strengthened with time.
And I wanted to put a ring on her finger, but she had enough things to adjust to over the next few months. I could be patient.
The ceremony went by quickly, both authors making the wedding guests cry with their heartfelt vows. Evan killed it, and I was so proud of how he’d finally found a way to cope with his anxiety and let his true personality shine.
I hadn’t realized how true that statement was as Isobel’s pained whimper met my ears over the melee in the ballroom during the reception an hour later.
“Oh, God. Oh, no...”
Her hand grasped my knee, her fingers digging into my suit pants as her face morphed into a grimace.
“Babe? You okay?”
Evan’s sister Kelly asked her if she was alright from her other side, and we both watched as Isobel panted, her face pinched with discomfort.
“I think my water just broke.” My pulse jumped as I registered what her scared voice had said .
“Holy...” Kelly sounded panicked from her other side, looking up and making eye contact with me.
“Babe? Is she coming?” It was too early. We weren’t ready for this.
“I think so...” Isobel’s grip on my knee tightened, and I watched as her stomach flexed.
“But it’s not time yet. We were supposed to be back home. She’s not due for over a month.” This was why I was afraid to come this weekend. We weren’t ready for this. Especially not so far away from home.
“Grab her wrap, hot shot,” Miguel said, grabbing my shoulder while I tried not to panic.
“Fuck, sorry, babe,” I responded, pulling Isobel’s wrap from the back of her chair and throwing it over her shoulders. “Do you think you can stand?”
“Maybe,” she whimpered, her face seeming to relax after the contraction was over.
“Let’s get you up then.”
Things seemed to speed up as I wrapped her velvet shawl around her waist and lifted her into my arms. “I’ve got yah, babe.” Tilting my head toward the table, I spoke to Kelly. “Grab her clutch and follow me to the front, would yah?”
As I made my way out the doors to the ballroom, a crowd was following us, including the bride and groom.
“I’m fine,” Isobel whimpered, but I knew she wasn’t from the terrified look on her face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Chase insisted as she waved away Isobel’s comment. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Isobel’s worried voice nearly broke me as I carried her out the front doors of the hotel. “I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding reception. I thought we still had a few weeks. My doctor said it was okay to fly.”
Well...the doctor was wrong in this situation. And as amniotic fluid soaked through my suit jacket, I hoped we would make it to the hospital before our daughter made her impromptu entrance into the world.