Chapter Eleven

Rule for success number eleven:

Pace yourself. You can’t work nonstop.

I’M really sorry Gardner didn’t work out,” Karis said the following morning over the phone.

Jolie winced against the sunlight glaring through the window and turned over in bed. Damn, her head hurt and her mouth felt as if something fuzzy had taken root and grown. It had to be way past nine in the morning, and for a woman usually working by the time the sun rose, this felt downright lazy. She couldn’t decide if she’d simply needed the splurge or was beginning the descent into mediocrity.

“Heath tried to warn me. I didn’t want to believe Richard would waste my time and his for nothing more than a glorified booty call.”

“He was literally willing to pay you millions of dollars for what’s in your panties. Wow. That’s kind of a backhanded compliment.”

Jolie scoffed. “I would rather have had a serious investor.”

“No doubt but at least someone wants your pink parts. I can’t seem to give mine away these days.”

“Don’t tell me you tried to get busy with your new bodyguard.” Surely, Heath had warned Cutter about her sister’s propensity to be man crazy. Still, Jolie hoped Karis would stop looking for her happiness in the men she met and start looking inside herself.

“Oh, god no. He’s . . . like Oscar the Grouch in a hot dude’s body. The packaging might be good. Okay, really fantastic. But I’ve had better conversations with my cat.”

Jolie had to laugh at that. Thankfully, Karis had moved beyond the superficial attractiveness of the men around her in a way her mother never had. Diana Gale always went for the most masculine, charismatic guy in the room, as if snagging his attention did something for her ego. It was a step forward for Karis, but Jolie was relieved that her sister at least realized that she had to like the man she’d spend the rest of her life—or at least the next few years—with.

“Besides, I think he’s got some woman in his life. And it sounds like there’s drama, drama, drama. I’m okay that he’s not interested.” Karis paused. “Did I shock you?”

“A little.”

“Good.” Her sister giggled. “So what are you going to do next? Your days are numbered until your asshat of a biological father comes knocking, right?”

Jolie’s stomach tightened with worry. “Yeah. I have to come up with something and get a new ball rolling quick. I’m just going to lock myself away with a pot of coffee and my laptop—”

“No, you’re not,” Heath said as he entered the room with a covered plate and a steaming cup on a tray. “You’re going to relax and rejuvenate for the next two days.”

She turned to scowl at him as if he’d lost his mind. What was he up to? “I have to go, sis. Take care.”

“Sure. Before I forget, I got another ‘gift’ from my weird office admirer yesterday afternoon, after you’d gone. He left me a gift bag with my favorite candle, Yankee Christmas Cookie. It’s as if he knew I’d just used up my last one and another would make me smile.”

Jolie wasn’t sure what to make of Karis’s secret admirer, but it worried her more than a little that he seemed to understand her sister so well when they had no idea who he was. “Any card?”

“Yeah. Get this. Burn this for me like I burn for you. I’ll scorch anyone who tries to stand between us.”

“He’s not very poetic.”

“He’s not,” Karis agreed. “But it’s almost sweet.”

“In a creepy sort of way.” Jolie paused.

“I know but my gut says he’s not dangerous or anything. Okay, you probably think that sounds like an excuse Mom would make, but he’s the first guy in my life who’s paid any attention to my likes and dislikes this carefully. That’s got to mean something.”

“Yeah, that he’s a stalker. KK, he’s pretty much threatened me.”

Karis sighed. “I know it sounds that way and it bugs me, too, but I have to believe that if he had menace on his mind he wouldn’t be capable of such sweet gestures.”

“That definitely sounds like something Mom would say.”

Suddenly, Heath set the tray on her dresser, then plucked the phone from her hands and engaged the speaker. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. It’s a candle, not a bomb.”

Heath didn’t look convinced. “Cutter is still with you?”

“Closer than my shadow.” And Karis didn’t sound too happy.

“Have him look into your latest ‘gift’ and tell him to call me.”

“Will do. Y’all never let me have any fun,” she grumbled.

That finagled a laugh from Jolie. “See you later.”

As Heath set the phone on her nightstand, he retrieved the tray and bid her to recline against the headboard. The sight stunned Jolie. “Breakfast in bed?”

He set the tray over her lap. “You’ve been burning your candle at both ends all week, not eating or sleeping enough.”

And he wanted to take care of her. No one had ever done anything half so thoughtful. Tears closed up her throat and she tried to joke the feeling away. “The not sleeping part is your fault. I thought guys pushing forty were supposed to have a less active sex drive.”

Heath scoffed. “I’ve no idea where you heard that rubbish.”

“Don’t know. I’m not complaining.”

“Glad to hear it. Eat. Once you’re done, I’m going to draw you a hot bath. You’re going to relax, then we’re going to sit on the couch and watch movies or read or whatever will take your stress down many notches.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, lifting the lid on her plate. “French toast and bacon! Mmm . . .” She dug into her breakfast with a moan. Everything tasted fantastic. “One of my favorites. You’re spoiling me.”

And why would he do that?

“I prefer the word pamper, and you deserve it after the week you’ve had.”

Jolie finished every bite, finding that, despite the disaster her business was now in, she had been famished. When she set her fork down on the empty plate, she looked at him with a sigh. “If this bodyguarding thing doesn’t work out for you, I could make you my personal chef and sex slave.”

Heath looked as if he didn’t want to smile but couldn’t stop himself. “The sex slave part sounds very intriguing.”

He lowered his palms and one knee onto the mattress until he loomed over her, his face inches above hers. He kissed her gently, with a reverence that made her catch her breath, before he brushed his lips across her jawline and meandered up to her ear.

When Jolie shivered, Heath nipped at her lobe. “Very intriguing, indeed. We’ll explore that.” He pulled away and lifted her to her feet. “After your bath.”

“I only shower.”

He glowered. “My mother swears by a good soak for relaxation and restorative purposes. Try it.”

“I’ll relax once I’m working on a new plan to save my business. Breakfast was really fantastic and sleeping in helped—”

“Could you humor me, love?” He shook his head with a hint of exasperation. “Could you be less independent and stubborn for twenty bloody minutes?”

Her go-go-go way of life seemingly worried him. He wouldn’t bother if he didn’t care. Jolie had only patchy recollections of last night. She’d told him about her father. He’d been supportive as hell. Afterward, she’d all but rubbed up against the man like she was in heat. Through it all, he had remained deeply accommodating. Being with her probably wasn’t easy. But Heath took everything she threw at him with a shrug and more steps down his doggedly correct path in life. He didn’t let her moods, her ambitions, or her past bother him.

He was kind of perfect for her. Crap, was she in love with him?

“All right. I’ll try it,” she conceded. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Heath seemed pleasantly surprised by her compromise as he lifted the tray from her lap. “You’re welcome. Meet me in your bathroom.”

As he returned the tray to the kitchen, she tossed on her robe and padded to her little spa-like retreat. She hadn’t splurged a lot on decorating this place but she loved her bathroom. The quartz counters, the teak floor, the gray Shaker cabinets, and the soothing shades of soft aqua walls.

After brushing her teeth and pinning her hair on top of her head, she started the bath water. In books and movies, people always added salts or oils—something—to the tub. She’d never bothered, seeing it as an expensive splurge when she was a college student and a silly timewaster now that she’d become a business owner. And who wanted to sit in their own dirty water?

Heath hustled in a moment later, carrying a candle he’d found in her living room and a vial of some liquid, which he added to the steaming tub. It smelled divine.

He lit the candle, tested the temperature of the water, then held out his hand in her direction. “Get in.”

Jolie doffed her robe and stepped into the tub. “Thanks. What is that?”

“A homemade recipe my mother mixes and sends to me. It’s carrier oil combined with bits of sandalwood, rose, orange, pine, and lemon. It’s for relaxation.” He turned a bit red. “She also sends me one for happiness. My mother believes that a long hot bath with the right oils will solve whatever ails your mood.”

“I see. She wouldn’t send you this stuff if you didn’t like it, would she?”

His flush deepened. “I grew up with it. These smells remind me of home. So . . . yes. Sometimes, if I’m in a flat with a decent tub, I climb in. Does that make me less manly?”

His challenging tone had her grinning as she sank into the water. It felt pretty damn heavenly. “Not at all. You sound evolved. Neanderthal two dot oh.”

“Charming.” He turned off the lights, then disappeared. A minute later, he returned with a loofah and a misshapen bar of scented soap. “My mother makes these as well.”

Rather than hand them to her, he knelt close, the candlelight flickering over the strong angles of his face. He dipped both items in the water, then proceeded to bathe her from head to toe. At first, Jolie couldn’t seem to relax. What did he see? Why was he taking such meticulous care of her?

As the gentle cleansing turned into a mind-melting massage of her tense muscles, those nagging questions dissolved. Two larger ones took their place. Had her mother ever had a man treat her so tenderly, causing her to believe that she was in love? And what would Jolie do when she no longer needed Heath for security reasons and he walked out of her life?

For the first time ever, the idea of letting a man go actually filled her with panic.

“Hey,” he soothed. “Relax. Your prescribed twenty minutes of soaking aren’t up yet.”

She lay back and let him resume his ministrations. Yep, she very much feared this was love, and she was finally beginning to understand why people searched endlessly for it, went to great lengths to protect it, were willing to kill and die for it.

“I know you called it pampering but you really are spoiling me,” she murmured, eyes closed. “What can I do to return the favor?”

“My demands are all sexual, of course.”

She smiled. “Naturally. So what do you want? Should I play the braless sorority sister whose car is broken down and will do anything to persuade a stranger—that’s you—to help?”

“While that might have interested me twenty years ago . . .” He grimaced. “I’m afraid that won’t do now.”

“Glad to hear it. So what do you want?”

“Later. Stop talking. You have fourteen minutes left.”

“You’re bossy.”

“Do you think so? And here I thought I’d been on my best behavior. Damn it all.”

She chuckled. “How is it that you never married again?”

Because from what Jolie could see, Anna must have been an extremely happy woman. Heath was very good not just at caring for a woman’s well-being but making her feel utterly adored.

He didn’t answer at first. A long moment went by, and Jolie began to worry she’d picked the wrong topic.

“I . . .” He sighed. “I couldn’t—”

Before he could say more, his phone rang at his side. Heath stood and dried his hands, then answered his mobile. “Powell.”

He motioned her to wait there and walked out of the bathroom. Jolie soaked for long minutes, letting herself revel in the scents, the steam, the utter feeling of needing to be nowhere and being required to do nothing. Now she understood the value of a good bath.

With her head propped on the edge of the tub, she dozed for a long minute, thoughts of Heath swirling in her head. He had been unable to remarry. She understood that now. He must have loved his late wife very much.

Maybe he’d never love anyone else.

The thought had her frowning as Heath returned to the room.

“Cutter is looking into the mysterious gifts your sister has received. He doesn’t like them, either. Particularly the latest. How could he possibly know we’ve had so many other issues that I haven’t yet finished the office security?”

“Good question. So what should we do to figure out Creepy McStalker’s identity and get rid of him?”

“Your sister must know more than she’s letting on. Cutter plans to grill Karis this weekend.”

“That won’t go over well,” Jolie warned.

“He’s a professional. He’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, he’ll keep her safe so you don’t have to worry.”

She appreciated that. But she’d feel much better once they’d solved this riddle. “Are my twenty minutes up?”

“Not yet. Close your eyes.”

With a sigh, she did as he’d demanded. The little protest was mostly for show. She hadn’t relaxed in years and was actually enjoying it. But she couldn’t let him think he was right that easily.

Jolie was about to drift off when she heard the sound of shattering glass followed by a loud thump coming from the front of her condo.

No one was here except her and Heath.

She gasped and sat up, only to find him tense and alert. “What was that?”

***

INSTANTLY, Heath went cold, focused. He grabbed a towel and tossed it on the edge of the counter. “Get up slowly. Keep the sloshing water to a minimum. Get dressed. Stay back here.”

“You think someone’s broken in?” she whispered.

It was a distinct possibility, and he didn’t want to frighten her.

“Call the police.” He headed out the bathroom door.

“Be careful,” she called in a breathy, shaking voice.

“Always.”

He drew his weapon from his holster, headed into her bedroom, and found it clear. Then he crouched and turned down the hall. The narrow walkway ran nearly the whole length of the unit. From here, he could see the hall bath and home office doors closed on either side. The family room straight ahead looked almost too still.

He crept farther toward the front of the condo, and the kitchen came into view. The pans he’d used to cook breakfast were still scattered around the stove and counters. He’d left the butter out. A few shards of glass peppered the floor, refracting sunlight from the surrounding windows. Those shimmering bits hadn’t been there before. Heath pressed forward. The hair at the back of his neck stood up.

A disturbance to his left drew him toward the front of the condo. When Heath reached the kitchen, crouching and taking cover behind a pony wall, he peeked over and around the corner. Glass lay everywhere, littering the area rug, the formal dining table, its leather chairs. Shards glinted in the light as they poked up from the mat in front of the door.

Heath took stock of all the windows in the room and found the culprit. One to his right had been shattered, probably by a projectile, based on the splatter of the glass. An accident? A neighborhood kid with a ball?

He hadn’t noticed many children in this complex seemingly devoted to single, career-minded adults.

Then he caught sight of a rock half under the table. He rushed over, glad he still wore his boots. Had someone pulled a prank? Did the neighborhood have an unexpected vandal element?

Determined to find the answer, he flipped the rock over with the toe of his boot. In red letters, the word BITCH covered the other side.

His blood turned to ice. This wasn’t a poor joke or a local street thug. Someone knew where Jolie worked—and now where she lived—and he had anger and an agenda.

Footsteps echoed behind him. Heath whirled, gun poised, heart pounding. Jolie, wearing a pair of hastily donned yoga pants and a sweatshirt, gasped and froze.

“The police will be here in less than five. What’s going on?”

“Someone seems determined to make a point that they’d prefer you hurt or dead. I won’t have you in danger. Pack a bag. We can’t say here any longer.”

“Where are we going?”

Heath was relieved she hadn’t argued but she asked a viable question. He knew few places in town that were truly secure. The one he could think of made him sigh. “I’ll need to make some phone calls from the car, then I’ll have an answer.”

“I’ll start throwing my stuff in a suitcase.”

She was too smart to argue about staying here, and Heath appreciated her all over again.

“By the time I’m done with the police, be ready to go.”

It didn’t take long for the cops to decide that the rock wasn’t menacing, just likely some prank from a kid in the complex. Heath mentioned the break-in at Jolie’s office but the officer wrote him off. The exhausted cop doubted those two incidents, while unfortunate, were related. Heath’s gut said otherwise but belaboring the point would get him nowhere.

And he was still minus a suspect.

After last night, Heath might have suspected Gardner of retaliating against Jolie for refusing to put out. But not only did vandalism seem childish for a man of his age and social standing, after the split pea soup Heath doubted Gardner was in much shape to threaten anyone. The man’s sister had texted Jolie early this morning to apologize profusely for her brother’s behavior. And apparently, Gardner had gone to the hospital for minor burns in some very sensitive areas. Now he was laid up, loopy on pain killers.

Heath was more than a bit happy. But that left him with a problem. If Richard wasn’t able to vandalize her apartment, who had?

“That cop is an idiot,” Jolie remarked as they shut the door behind the uniformed officer.

“I think somewhere between lazy and lacking imagination would be a more apt description. But I understand. At first glance, these two crimes don’t seem related at all. Different location, different M.O. It could look like a string of bad luck.”

“Until this past week, I’ve never had any occasion to call the police. My only brush with them has been a speeding ticket.”

Heath grunted. No sense in staying here to discuss this potential threat. They only made themselves easier targets for whatever might come next. “Let’s go.”

After gathering the few things he’d brought in a duffel bag, they drew the blinds, patched up the broken window with a discarded cardboard box and some heavy-duty strapping tape, locked up, and headed out. As soon as Jolie backed out of her parking spot, Heath got to work on his mobile.

Sean answered after the third ring. “Can’t really talk. I’m at the hospital. Callie has gone into labor for real.”

And the last thing Thorpe and Sean needed now was for them to park danger inside Dominion, their club. Besides, while Jolie had been receptive to him tying their ankles together for sleep, he didn’t see her accepting medical tables, ponytail anal plugs, or whipping posts quite so easily.

“I need a safe house. Jolie’s place has been compromised. Any ideas?”

After a long pause and some shuffling of the phone, Sean returned to the line. “Yeah, Axel is out of the country, and Thorpe has the keys to his place. It’s quiet, out of the way. It should have all the creature comforts. Swing by here to pick up the keys.”

Heath memorized the address Sean rattled off. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“We’ll probably still be waiting for this baby. It’s been a long few hours already.”

Heath frowned. “Is Callie all right?”

“If cursing Thorpe and me then crying all in the same ten minutes is normal, then she’s perfect.”

He had no clue. “Good luck, mate.”

The second he hung up, Jolie turned to him with a frown. “What’s wrong with Callie?” As she pulled up to a red light, she dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Damn it, she texted me forty minutes ago to say she was in labor. We have to go.”

Jolie sent back a quick reply, then took off when the light turned green.

“I’ll be running in to pick up a key, then we’re leaving the hospital.”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Jolie was shaking her head. “No, we’re not. I want to be there for Callie. She has no other family and she’s one of my few female friends. Most other women call me a bitch because I’m assertive and I don’t wear my insecurities on my sleeve. I promised her. I won’t let her down.”

“Danger could be following you.”

“I’ll be in a well-monitored facility where nothing will happen. I’m going to support my friend, hold her hand if she needs.” She pressed her lips together mulishly.

Heath cursed under his breath. He supposed he should be mad as hell that she didn’t want to do as he demanded for the sake of her safety. But he liked her loyal streak. It seemed nearly as long as her stubborn streak. He didn’t relish the idea of having to be constantly vigilant in public but that was part of being a bodyguard. He didn’t love her choice but he understood and respected it.

“All right, then. But you’ll do what I say, when I say, without question. It could be the difference between life and death. Am I clear?”

“Of course.”

Minutes later, they pulled up in front of the hospital. Jolie had barely killed the engine before she vaulted out, grabbed her purse, and dashed to the maternity ward. Heath had to sprint to keep up.

Once they reached the waiting room, he spotted Thorpe and Sean pacing.

Jolie skidded to a stop in front of them. “How is she? What’s going on? Will they let you back with her? Is there a problem?”

Sean turned, face gentle. “No. She sent us out here to find you and bring you to her room.”

“Are you certain you want to do that?” Heath looked at Sean pointedly. “Someone has Jolie on their radar.” He summarized the incidents that had taken place over the past few days.

“None of that is life threatening. Trust me, man. It’s in our best interest to keep our pregnant wife happy.”

“Or she’ll never let us come near her again.” Thorpe rolled his eyes with an indulgent smile.

“Thank you. I want to see her,” Jolie insisted.

Heath shrugged. Looked as if emotion was trumping logic today. “Lead the way . . .”

***

WHEN they reached the birthing suite, Jolie darted around Sean and Thorpe to Callie’s side. “Hi. How are you doing?”

“I’m uncomfortable and scared as hell. But I’m so ready to hold my baby.” Somehow, even with her face scrubbed clean and looking as if she hadn’t slept all night, Callie was still beautiful. She balanced a cup of ice chips on her belly and had the remote control for the TV in her hand.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since three this morning. Apparently I’m dilating slowly. The doctor should come in to break my water in the next few hours, now that I’m at a five.”

“So you’re really having this baby today?”

“It looks that way. I don’t know how much more I can expand to accommodate my growing little dynamo. The doctors think he or she will weigh about eight pounds. I don’t care whether it’s a boy or girl. I just want a healthy baby.”

Jolie already knew Callie wanted the gender to be a surprise. But what amazed her was the woman’s calm. Her life was about to change forever.

“I’ll be here with you for as long as you need me.”

Callie teared up. “Who knew that asking someone where a pregnant girl could find a yoga mat would lead me to such a great friend?”

“I’m glad you asked me. If it hadn’t been my first class, too, I might have known the answer.”

They laughed, then Callie winced and grabbed her belly, breathing in a practiced pattern with Jolie during the next thirty seconds. Finally, her friend sighed, her whole body going lax, then she looked at her men. “The contractions are coming about every five minutes. They’re getting more intense.”

They each rushed to one side and took her hands. Jolie could feel the palpable love between the trio.

“We’re here, lovely,” Sean murmured. “Those marriage vows said forever, and I meant it.”

“I know, babe.” Callie smiled faintly. “You both have been the best.”

Thorpe leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You’re doing well with your breathing.”

She nodded. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Good. Sean will work through it with you. I’ll be behind you to help you push.”

The nurse came in then, frowning at the trio as if she still didn’t quite understand the relationship and didn’t want to ask too many questions. She monitored Callie’s vitals, took some blood, then returned with a clipboard.

“I’ve been sent to begin the birth certificate process. The exact spelling of your name?”

Callie answered, and the young woman froze, star struck. “The heiress Callindra Howe?”

“That one,” Callie confirmed.

Jolie wasn’t surprised by the nurse’s reaction. Unless someone had been living under a rock, they’d heard the story of the little rich girl who’d run away after supposedly killing her family as a teenager. She’d been wanted for years and fought hard to prove that someone else had murdered her loved ones. When Jolie had first met the woman, she’d been shocked, too. But since then Callindra had just become Callie to her, and they’d turned into great friends.

“Yes. I’m Callindra Howe Mackenzie now.”

“Wow. Nice to meet you. So the baby’s last name will be Mackenzie?”

Callie shook her head. “Mackenzie-Thorpe, please.”

The nurse, who looked just out of school, glanced between the two men. “Father of the baby?”

Thorpe stepped in then, his expression a subtle but effective warning. “We’ll be swabbing the baby after birth to determine that. If you need anything else, ask Mr. Mackenzie.” He pointed to Sean, holding Callie’s hand across the bed. “Or me. I’m Mitchell Thorpe.”

The wary nurse heeded his warning undertone to stay away from Callie. “I-I think that’s enough for now. We’ll complete the form once the child is born and tested. Excuse me.”

When the flustered woman backed out of the room, Callie scowled. “Mitchell, behave. She was just doing her job.”

“Not very politely, pet.”

Callie sighed. “I knew it was going to be awkward. London Santiago warned me since she’s also got two husbands.” She turned to Jolie. “They recently had a baby girl, so she gave me some pointers.”

“Is that why you’re going to DNA test the baby?”

That hadn’t been the plan originally.

“Yeah. She made some good points. We need to know the father for legal and medical purposes. Beyond that, we don’t care. He or she belongs to all of us.”

Sean squeezed her hand and looked at her as if Callie was his moon and stars. Thorpe brushed the hair back from her face and snagged her gaze, his full of silent promise.

Just then, another contraction hit.

One turned into another, and the next few hours slid by. Nurses changed shifts, and the doctor came by at lunch to check on Callie, who had dilated to a seven. When they told her to walk while they prepared to break her water, Jolie meandered up and down the halls with her friend, stopping to help her bend and breathe through the discomfort.

“How are things with Heath?” Callie asked between contractions.

Exhilarating. Complicated. Uncertain. “Fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I have to. He looks like he wants to beat back anyone who would dare to look at you, then gobble you all up for himself.”

Jolie flushed. “He’s been really . . . amazing so far. Helpful and reasonable.”

“Then you must have some magic elixir because he’s usually taciturn and remote—unless he’s picking up a random woman.” Callie cocked her head. “But he’s not doing that anymore, is he?”

“He can’t exactly slip away to exercise his sex drive when he’s busy bodyguarding me.”

But that wasn’t the whole truth and Callie saw through her answer. “I’d bet my entire bank balance he doesn’t want to anymore. He looks at you like he’s hooked.”

“I think maybe . . . yeah. It’s not one-sided. I don’t know what to do.”

“Let it happen.” Callie shrugged.

“The timing is lousy.” Well, that wasn’t her only objection. Would she have ever thought the timing was good? Probably not. “I wasn’t looking for love. I never have been.”

“I know you like order in your life, prefer to plan where you’re going so you know what tasks to tackle next. Love isn’t like that. At first, it’s more like . . . grabbing a fast-moving train. The track can be wild and harrowing and a little slippery, but once you get some traction and figure out where you’re going, it’s the most amazing ride of your life. I know you’re a results-driven woman, but there’s no bottom line in love. Don’t think about the destination, doll. Focus on the journey. That’s where you’ll find the beauty of love.”

Yeah, Jolie was beginning to understand that, and it was a completely foreign way of thinking to her. Still, she suspected Callie was right and no amount of trying to filter romance through any pre-existing experience was going to work. “Thanks. I don’t know if it’s love or anything close . . .”

She nodded. “I have a sense about these things. Or maybe it’s just pregnancy hormones. Everything makes me cry now.”

Callie hugged her. Jolie held on to the other woman in return and felt herself tearing up, too. She never had many female friends. She’d always been too ambitious for slumber parties, makeovers, and gossip. She couldn’t have cared less about boy bands and crushes or cheerleading skirts in high school. The girls on the academic decathlon team had all been socially awkward, not to mention enthralled by sci-fi and gaming in a way she never would be.

Karis might be the sister of her blood, but Callie was the sister of her heart. And despite the belly bumping between them, Jolie was thrilled to be here for her on the day she would become a mother.

As they rounded the nurses’ station and wandered back down the hall, Callie looked Jolie’s way. “I heard through the grapevine that you had dinner with a potential investor last night.”

“In other words, Heath said something about it to Sean?”

Callie laughed. “Yeah, Heath wanted some local connections at that restaurant to make certain he talked to the people who could get security things done. How did it go?”

“Richard Gardner is a manipulative manwhore.”

“I could have told you that.” Callie tsked.

“I’d hoped that the desires of his bank account would outweigh the desires of his penis.”

“Nope. He made a pass at me once. I thought Thorpe and Sean were going to kill him in the middle of a cocktail party. Honey, if you were looking for an investor, why didn’t you call me? I would have—oh!”

When she gripped her belly and squatted with a gasp of pain, Jolie dropped down beside her. “What can I do? Should I get a nurse?”

Callie didn’t reply for a long moment, just breathed through the pain. “They’re coming quicker now, getting more intense. I don’t think it will be much longer.”

Jolie agreed as she helped Callie back to her feet. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“In a minute.” Her voice sounded strained. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to risk our friendship. I couldn’t guarantee your funds.” Jolie teared up. “I could find another investor but I couldn’t find another best friend.”

Callie didn’t even try to hide her tears. “Oh my god, that’s so touching, even if you’re being a silly bitch.”

Together they laughed as Jolie helped Callie down the hall. She looked up to find all three men watching protectively from the end of the hall. Thorpe and Sean jogged toward Callie, concern all over their faces. She took another halting step to reach them when a splash of clear liquid unexpectedly doused the floor between her feet.

“My water!”

That brought nurses running, had the men worrying, and Jolie panicking. She knew how to handle a company that grossed nearly ten million dollars annually. She had no idea what to do with a woman in active labor.

Thankfully, Callie was soon back in bed and fighting the first urge to push.

In between contractions, she held out her hand to Jolie. For the first time, she looked afraid. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but since my mother and sister aren’t alive anymore and can’t be with me today and I . . .”

Callie wanted female comfort. Though Jolie had never been in Callie’s shoes, she couldn’t imagine going through such a momentous event without her mom and sister. Husbands were all fine and good, but sometimes only a woman understood what another woman was going through.

Jolie squeezed her fingers. “I’m here for as long as you need me.”

“Thank you. That means the world to me.” Callie looked slightly sweaty but a bit more at ease. Love glowed from her eyes.

After that, things progressed quickly. Callie’s men took over the duties of holding her hand, wiping her brow, feeding her ice chips, and encouraging her progress. The doctor, a competent woman in her forties, checked Callie and declared her nearly ready. The nurses filed in. Jolie drifted to the back of the room, near Heath. Together, they watched mutely.

One minute bled into the next until the contractions seemed never-ending. Callie panted, trying to regulate her breathing. Sean worked through the pattern with her. Thorpe took up position behind her. The three of them had an almost wordless communication. The men understood that her happiness and comfort came before all else and never spoke unless it furthered that cause.

For the few seconds between contractions, Sean brushed a kiss on her damp forehead. Thorpe patted her with cool cloths and stroked her hair. They both told her they loved her and were proud of her every single day.

When the next contraction seized her petite frame, Thorpe braced himself behind her. Sean counted breaths. Callie grunted and bore down.

“The baby is crowning. A few more pushes!” the doctor announced.

Moments later, another contraction grabbed hold of Callie’s entire frame, this one seemingly on top of the last. She grabbed Sean’s hand as Thorpe supported her. A grunt became a scream as she struggled to give her baby life.

“Just a bit more . . .”

“I can’t.” As the contraction let up, Callie flopped back, exhausted. “It hurts so much . . .” She burst into tears. “I gained too much weight and my body looks like something even a whale would be ashamed of.”

Sean repressed a smile and kissed her again. “You’re perfect, lovely.”

Thorpe scowled. “He’s right. You wouldn’t have to beat us off with a stick so often if we didn’t find you completely, stunningly beautiful.”

The doctor regarded Callie with compassion. “You’re not the first mother to feel this way. You won’t be the last. Right now, you’re hormonal and don’t recognize your body. But you’ll recover after the baby comes. Give it time.” She checked Callie’s progress again. “Now, c’mon. I think you can do this in one more push.”

“I’m so tired.” But she nodded.

“It was all that ‘nesting’ last night,” Sean said, gently chiding.

“Next time you climb the kitchen cabinets to rearrange every pot and pan we have, make sure one of us is there to help you.” Or there will be hell to pay. Jolie heard that subtext in Thorpe’s voice. Then his stern tone softened more than she’d imagined possible. “You needed rest. We worry.”

“I know . . .” she said miserably. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Jolie had never seen her friend anything less than bubbly and optimistic, and a potent combination of hormones and exhaustion probably drove this weepy mood. Still, Jolie’s heart went out. “You can do this. You’ve got gumption, woman. And you’re about to have a baby who needs its mommy. We’re all here for you.”

“See?” Sean murmured. “We’re almost parents now. You can’t give up, lovely. We’ve been waiting for the day our three would become four. Just a bit more.”

“Dig deep, pet,” Thorpe encouraged.

As another contraction gripped her, she looked to her men as if she needed them to be her pillars. Wordlessly, they gave their support, stalwart and strong, as she worked up her energy and courage to give one more mighty push. Then the wailing cry of the baby filled the air.

Jolie couldn’t see much around all the people and equipment, but she could feel the miracle in the air. A new life began. Hope. Future. And as the doctor set the baby on Callie’s chest, tears streamed down her rosy cheeks.

“Meet your son,” the doctor said to the trio softly.

Instantly, Callie held the boy against her body. Thorpe and Sean both looked on, stroking his little head, soothing his cries with a glide down his chubby leg. To her shock, both men cried openly, too.

“He’s beautiful.” Callie’s voice shook. She was unable to stop looking at the boy with a thatch of pitch-black hair and blue eyes.

“Amazing,” Thorpe whispered.

Sean smiled. “Welcome to the world, Asher Daniel Mackenzie-Thorpe.”

The doctor took the baby. Nurses weighed and cleaned him. After a swaddle, they presented him to Callie again. “Seven pounds, eight ounces. Nineteen inches. Congratulations.”

The threesome didn’t speak for long moments, just held one another as they marveled over the life they had created together.

Jolie’s perspective tilted on its side. This was love in its purest form and she felt it charging the air, closing up her throat.

For the last thirty years, she’d valued all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.

Life wasn’t about work or balance sheets or making it from one day to the next. It was about savoring every moment of precious existence and sharing her most profound moments with loved ones. For so long, she’d strived to be as insular as possible, figuring that if she never let anyone close, she would never have to feel the pain of disappointment, sorrow, or hurt. Now she saw that her life had been empty because she’d been too afraid to truly live it. She’d devoted her existence to proving herself worthy of a father who would never love her, in walling herself off so she could never feel crushed again.

But without pain, she couldn’t feel joy or amazement, hope or true love . . . Nothing that made life worth living.

Suddenly, her world turned blurry. She wiped at her cheeks, weirdly stunned to find them drenched with tears. Beside her, Heath looked choked up, too. Then he slipped his hand in hers.