Bravo Christmas Reunion Page 8

Their room faced the mountains. Hayley stared out at the gray-and-purple peaks, shadowed now, as night came on, at the sprawling city that claimed the desert below. “Life has its moments, huh?”

  He pressed his lips to her hair. “Yes, it does.”

  The dinner that night was wall-to-wall Bravos. There were speeches and toasts. And kids running everywhere. There was also a huge tree in the middle of the ballroom the family had claimed for the event. Under the tree? Presents for days.

  There were name tags, as it turned out. A lucky thing, too.

  With a new relative everywhere she turned, even Hayley had a hard time keeping them all straight—and in the months since she’d learned who her father really was, she’d made it her business to catch up on all the family relationships, to learn who Blake’s wives were, who her half brothers had married and how many kids they had.

  After dinner, they all pulled their chairs around the tree for a serious game of Dirty Santa. When your name was called, you could take a gift from under the tree—or steal one that someone else had already opened and let them go to the tree again. The Bravos—kids included—showed no hesitation to snatch their relatives’ presents.

  Once every last package was opened, the party broke up for the evening. Some went to try their luck at the slots or the tables, some to put the kids to bed.

  Tanner caught Hayley and Marcus as they were waiting for an elevator.

  “We’re putting together a card game in one of the private lounges over at High Sierra. Four or five tables. Texas Hold’em. You up for it, Marcus?” He sent a wry smile Hayley’s way. “It’s a man thing. Cigars will be smoked.”

  “No problem.” Her back hurt, anyway, and she was beat. “I’m off to bed. Sleeping for two, you know.” She brushed Marcus’s shoulder. “You go ahead. Have fun.”

  He caught her hand, pulled her close enough to kiss the tip of her nose. “You sure you want me playing poker? Could be risky. I hear one of your brothers is a National Poker Champion.”

  “That would be Cade,” Tanner said. “He’s one of Caitlin’s sons. He’ll be there. But he promised to go easy on us.”

  Hayley grunted. “Oh, yeah. I’ll just bet. Watch your wallets, boys.” She went on tiptoe to give Marcus one more quick kiss. “Hand over the loot.” He gave her the rhinestone-studded Las Vegas T-shirt and the set of gold-rimmed shot glasses they’d ended up with from the Dirty Santa game. “Go. Try not to lose your shirt. And don’t wake me up when you come in.”

  “Come on.” Tanner was already turning to go back the way they’d come.

  Marcus hesitated. “You’re sure?”

  Tanner groaned. “She’s positive. Let’s go.”

  She laughed. “Did you hear me? Go!”

  He fell in step with Tanner as the elevator chimed and the doors slid wide.

  In the suite, Hayley stood naked by the huge, deep tub. It had steps leading down into it and a nice, big handrail to hold on to, just in case. She turned on the taps and poured in some bath gel and sat on the rim as the froth of bubbles rose higher.

  At last, with a long, luxurious sigh, she sank into the silky warm water, so glad to be having a baby in the twenty-first century. In the old days, or so she’d read in the tall stack of baby books at home, people believed that sitting in bathwater during the final weeks of pregnancy could cause infection.

  Not anymore. Hooray for modern medicine.

  And the bathtub was truly amazing, shaped just right to relax and stretch out. There was even a fat, horseshoe-shaped pillow to cradle her neck and head. She leaned back with a sigh as one of those minor contractions—Braxton Hicks, they called them—tightened her abdomen. The cramp faded quickly. She’d been having them all day. Braxton Hicks were perfectly normal at this stage of the game. They were the mild, irregular contractions that often occurred in the final weeks before the baby was due.

  Her back, though. It was really aching. She reached around and rubbed it for a while, but the pain didn’t ease much. She’d pushed herself a little too hard that day and she knew it—up at six, a half day for her last day of work, the trip here, the long evening….

  Tomorrow, she’d sleep late, take it nice and easy. If she had to miss one or two of the various get-togethers Caitlin and company had planned, so be it.

  She sighed and closed her eyes—and moaned when another of those fake contractions struck.

  The poker game was more about the Bravo men getting together than serious card playing. There were five tables, all filled with Bravos—along with a handful of guys who’d married Bravo women: Beau from Wyoming, Mack from Florida, Logan from California and Cole Yuma, a vet from the Texas Hill Country.

  Marcus started at a table with Tanner, Aaron—the one who ran High Sierra—and Brand and Brett, who were full brothers, two of the four sons of Chastity Bravo, from a tiny Northern California town called New Bethlehem Flat.

  There were good cigars and excellent whisky for anyone who wanted it. Word had gotten round that Marcus and Hayley weren’t married. He took a lot of friendly ribbing about how he ought to get a ring on that girl’s finger and make it quick, since she looked as if she’d be having that baby any minute now.

  Marcus swore he was doing the best that he could. Then he went all in on the river and won that hand. And the next hand. And the hand after that.

  The hours went by. As players went out, they consolidated the tables. Marcus managed to stay in the game longer than most. But in the end, he went all in with an ace and a jack and Tucker Bravo, from Tate’s Junction, Texas, beat him with a pair of sixes.

  Marcus was thinking he’d call it a night about then, head to the room and join Hayley in that big bed.

  But Tanner said, “Come on, Marcus. Brett and Brand are waiting in the Forty-niner.”

  “That’s a bar, right?”

  “You bet.”

  Since he didn’t drink, heading for a bar held little appeal. “Brett and Brand are waiting for what?”

  “I told them that as soon as you had your clock cleaned at the tables, I’d drag you over there for one more round.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve left your sister alone for hours now….”

  Tanner grunted. “You’re pretty damn attentive. I like that in a prospective brother-in-law.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  Hayley’s brother clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s sleeping. She’ll be fine.”

  Since he was going to marry Hayley as soon as he could finish breaking down her defenses, he figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to spend a little quality time with his future in-laws. Besides, Tanner was probably right. Hayley would be sound asleep by now. It wasn’t as if she’d be up there missing him.

  Tanner said, “Come on, you know you’re just dyin’ for one last club soda.”

  “Two’s usually my limit, but hey. I’ll go for a third just this one time.”

  Hayley woke with a cry.

  She’d dreamed of her father again—or rather, Blake Bravo’s scary shadow as he loomed over her.

  Her back was aching. Bad. The pain had spread, wrapping around her like strong fingers. Now it pressed hard at her abdomen, too.

  She groaned as her mind surfaced through the layers of sleep—and groaned again, louder, as a hard contraction tightened her belly.

  The wave of pain took over. She breathed in shallow pants as she’d learned in her labor classes. It passed at last.

  And what the…?

  She threw back the covers. The bed was soaking wet. She sniffed—sweet, it smelled sweet. And she was still leaking, the pale fluid sticky between her thighs.

  No doubt about: her water had broken.

  And she did know the signs, she’d studied up on them enough: the movement of the pain from her back around to the front; the longer, deeper, more painful contractions; the amniotic fluid streaked with pink, soaking the sheets…

  She was in labor.

  Chapter Nine

  Marcus set down his club soda as his new PDA started vi
brating. He tensed.

  Adriana.

  Why the hell couldn’t she let it be, for God’s sake?

  But then again, no one had his new cell number except Hayley and Joyce, his assistant. Anyone in Seattle who needed to reach him had to go to Joyce, who would then contact him. Joyce Bowles was tough and smart. No one got by Joyce.

  And that meant there was no way Adriana had charmed or cajoled his new cell number out of her.

  He took out the phone and checked the display, smiling to himself when he saw it was Hayley. She must be missing him, after all.

  He gave the men at the table the high sign and turned slightly away to answer. “I know it’s late. I’m coming right now.”

  “Great. Because there’s a little problem.”

  She sounded perfectly calm. Still, the air fled his lungs and his stomach jerked into a double knot. “Problem?”

  “I think I’m having the baby.”

  His mind went blank as he struggled to process. The baby? She was having the baby? Was that possible? How could that be? “Uh. Now?”

  “Yes, Marcus. Now.”

  He said a word he shouldn’t have said and he said it really loud, simultaneously bolting upright, bumping the table in the process. Two of the four drinks went over, liquor and ice splashing across the mosaic of a gold pan and pick.

  The other three men shoved back their chairs and jumped up to keep from getting wet.

  “Hey…”

  “Watch it.”

  “Marcus, what the hell?”

  Brand headed for the bar, presumably to get something to mop up the spilled drinks just as someone won a big jackpot somewhere in the casino. Whistles blew and bells rang.

  “Marcus?” Hayley asked. He could tell by her tone that now she was worried. For him. Incredible. She was worried about him. “Marcus, are you okay?”

  “Hold on, sweetheart,” he told her. “I’m just fine.” He tipped the PDA away from his mouth and told the others, “Hayley…” He had to search for the impossible words. “She’s having the baby.”

  She was talking again. He tried to focus on her voice. “Can you get a doctor?”

  “Uh. Absolutely. No problem…”

  Brand returned with a big towel and mopped up the spilled drinks as, for some unknown reason, Brett said, “Let’s go have a look.”

  Marcus gaped at the other man. What the hell did Brett Bravo think he’d be looking at?

  Brand said, “I’ll get Angie. And your bag…”

  “Go for it,” said Brett. He spoke to Marcus. “Let me have a word with her. We’ll see where we are here.”

  Marcus gaped some more. The man was making zero sense.

  Hayley said, “Marcus? What’s going on?”

  Brand was talking to him, too. “I need a room number. Are you two here, at High Sierra?”

  About then, Tanner got a load of Marcus’s expression. He laughed. “Easy, Marcus. Brett’s a doctor. His wife Angie’s a nurse.”

  Marcus parroted, “Doctor. Nurse. I knew that. Didn’t I?”

  “I heard that,” Hayley said in his ear. “That’s good. Tell Brett to hurry…” And then she moaned.

  “Hayley. My God. Hayley…”

  She panted. And groaned. “Okay. It’s okay….”

  It didn’t sound okay to Marcus. “I’m on my way. Brett, too…” The bells rang and the whistles kept blowing. His mind was mush. He glanced wildly around, seeking the exit. And from there, which direction to the escalators and the skyway back to Impresario? Damn it to hell. He’d known the way when he got here….

  Tanner gave Brand the room number. “They’re at Impresario,” he said.

  Brand took off as the bells and whistles finally stopped.

  “Let’s go,” said Brett.

  “Hold on,” Marcus told the panting, moaning woman on the other end of the line. “We’re coming.” Brett and Tanner fell in on either side of him. He let them lead him, handing Brett the PDA when the other man held out his hand for it.

  Thank God they seemed to know the way.

  In the suite, Tanner waited in the sitting room.

  Marcus and Brett went on into the bedroom. They found Hayley crouched on the dais, knees drawn up, wearing one of the red terry robes provided by the hotel. Moaning.

  Marcus went to her, dropped down beside her and took her hand. She kept on moaning, a hard, keening sound, and wrapped her fingers tight around his, as if clutching a lifeline.

  “Oh, my darling…” he muttered and didn’t know what to do next.

  For some unknown reason, Brett touched the sheet, and then sniffed his hand. “What’s her due date?” Marcus was busy trying to soothe Hayley and the doctor had to prompt, “Marcus? Do you know her due date?”

  “Ah…January eighth.”

  “Less than three weeks away. She’s passed the thirty-six-week mark.”

  “And that means?”

  “The baby should be fully developed, ready to survive outside the womb. Chances are this is a normal, though slightly early, birth.”

  “That’s good?”

  “Yes. Very good. I’ll be right back.” And he headed for the sitting room.

  What the hell? The doctor was walking away? Marcus opened his mouth to shout at him to get back over here to Hayley where he belonged. But he shut it without making a sound. He didn’t want to upset Hayley any more than necessary.

  “Everything’s okay,” he told her, though he had no idea if that was true, or not. “You heard what Brett said. A normal delivery, just a little bit early. It’s all going to be fine, perfect, the baby’s okay and so are you….”

  He babbled on, hardly knowing what he was saying. She didn’t seem to really hear him, but she clutched his hand as if letting go would be the end of her.

  Seconds later, Brett returned from the sitting room. “Tanner’s getting an ambulance.”

  “An ambulance? She needs an ambulance? I thought you said—”

  “Just a precaution,” Brett hurried to reassure. “Nothing to be alarmed about. If she’s as far along as she seems to be, an ambulance is the best and safest way to get her to the hospital. The EMTs will be able to take care of her on the way.”

  “Okay,” said Marcus. Total lie. At that moment, things were not okay. Not okay in a big, big way.

  “Stay with her for a minute more,” Brett instructed. As if he could leave her. As if he ever would. The doctor continued, “I’ll scrub down as best I can. Then we’ll see how far along she is.”

  “Yeah. Go.” The doctor disappeared into the bathroom as Hayley let out a long, slow sigh.

  “Marcus?” Her voice was soft, breathless.

  “Right here.” Her hair, sweat-soaked, clung to her clammy cheeks. He smoothed it back.

  “It’s…early,” she said. “But not that early…Please don’t be scared. I think it’s fine.” She actually smiled at him. Incredible. In her state. Smiling at him.

  Before he could figure out something suitably gentle and encouraging to say to her, the doctor returned with a stack of fat, white towels from the bathroom. “Let’s get rid of those wet sheets and put these down….”

  Hayley seemed calmer right then, so Marcus dared to pry his fingers free of her grip. He got busy stripping the bed. When the sheets and blankets were off, they spread the towels.

  “Okay,” Brett said. “Hayley, let’s move you up on the bed—scoot close to the edge.”

  Marcus helped her up and Brett examined her. He asked her how far apart her contractions were, then rattled off a string of terms that Hayley seemed to understand.

  “Damn it,” Marcus cut in. Since Hayley winced as if he’d startled her, he forced himself to ask in a reasonable tone, “Is she okay? Is the baby all right?”

  Brett granted him a very doctorly smile. “Everything looks normal. They’re both doing well.”

  Just as he said that, Hayley started moaning again. She slid off the bed and back onto the dais.

  “Wait…no…” Marcus tried to
stop her.

  Brett said, “It’s okay. Let her do whatever she’s comfortable with. She’s fine. Her body knows what it needs.”

  Hayley crouched on the dais, knees wide, groaning.

  Brett said, “Pant. Easy. Don’t push. Remember. Easy. Not yet…”

  About then, a pretty, dark-haired woman wearing jeans and a zip-up green hoodie appeared from the sitting room. She said a soft, “Hello,” as she set down a black bag and went into the bathroom.

  Marcus put it together: Angie. Brett’s wife. The nurse…

  He heard the water running in the bathroom—until Hayley’s loud groan blocked out the sound.

  The nurse reappeared. Her husband stepped back as she approached Hayley on the other side.

  “Angie…” Hayley managed somehow to get the word out between groans. “Thanks…for coming…”

  “Glad to help.”

  Hayley reached for her hand and Angie gave it. Now Hayley had Marcus’s fingers clasped with one hand and the nurse’s with the other. Angie urged her to breathe in shallow pants—and not to push yet….

  The doctor disappeared into the sitting room again.

  Marcus watched him go, scowling.

  Angie said, “He’ll check on the ambulance.”

  Time slowed in the strangest way. There were moments when Hayley was calm, almost dreamy. And then she would moan again and the pain would take her.

  Brett’s wife stayed right with them. She said soothing things, including that Hayley was doing great.

  Marcus was inordinately thankful to hear that—at the same time as he wanted to shout that this wasn’t great in the least. Hayley was suffering. He hated every damn minute of her agony. He wanted to help her.

  And yet he was powerless. Good only to be there, to hold her hand….

  Though he’d always believed he’d never have kids, in the past week or so, Hayley had almost succeeded in convincing him that having a kid was a good thing.

  Now, seeing her agony, he was sure all over again that having a kid was the worst idea nature ever dreamed up.

  He didn’t say that, though. It was too late to back out now. Now, he just stood by helplessly as Hayley sweated and moaned, trying to bring their baby into the world.