in Mexico digging a bullet out of his shoulder. He’d felt the same way about the man.
“No need for name calling,” he told her, banking down his amusement. “What—?”
“Her name is Mudd,” she repeated. Gritting her teeth, she gave him specifics. “Geraldine … Mudd.”
He nodded, owning up to his mistake. “Okay. Sorry about that.”
Adam took out his phone and pressed the key for Information. Instead of ringing, he heard the irritating sound that told him his call couldn’t go through. One glance at the screen told him his signal was all but nonexistent. He swallowed a curse. The next second, Eve was grabbing the edge of his shirt. Before she could speak, another huge contraction had her arching her entire body up off the bed like a human tunnel.
She all but collapsed when the pain receded. “No time.”
She knew her own body better than he did, Adam reasoned, flipping his phone closed again. He shoved it back into his pocket.
“Whatever you say. Don’t worry.” He did his best to sound reassuring despite the fact that he was worried himself. “I’ve had training.”
“In what?” Her eyes were wide again as she looked at him.
His answer was carefully guarded, but he did want to assuage her fears. “In first aid and what to do if a woman goes into labor.”
Was he telling the truth? But how could he be? “Drug dealing has gotten more complicated.”
“I went to the Y. I like being prepared for all contingencies.” It was a lie. He couldn’t very well tell her that he’d taken the mandatory classes as part of his DEA training.
The next moment, any other questions she might have asked flew out of her head, chased out by the massive waves of pain sweeping over her. Sweat poured out of her even though the room was relatively cool.
She could feel her child pushing, trying to fight his or her way out.
With all her heart, she wished she could be bringing her baby into a better world than what waited for it. Wished that at least the baby would have not just a mother, but a father there, as well.
But the time for philosophical debates had long since passed.
In a vague, hot haze, she could feel Adam’s hands on her, stripping off her underwear and pushing up the loose dress she was wearing.
Words, there were words. He was saying something to her. An apology? What was he apologizing for?
Oh, for having to undress her.
She laughed shortly. The time for that, too, was long gone. If she hadn’t let him undress her in the first place, there would have been no need for him to undress her now.
“You’re crowning,” he declared, trying to mask his surprise.
He could feel excitement coursing through his veins. Despite the way she was behaving, he hadn’t thought it possible for this process to be happening this quickly. If she’d been a race car, Eve would have literally gone from zero to sixty in a quarter of a heartbeat.
Oh, God, he hoped he could remember everything he’d been taught. Those lessons all seemed like he’d sat through them an eternity ago. He’d never had an occasion to put any of it into practice before.
Until now.
Taking a breath, he braced himself. “Okay, Eve, push.”
Eve squeezed her eyes shut. She clutched the comforter, feeling the lace rip beneath her fingers as she held on to the material tightly and pushed for all she was worth. Through it all, she was vaguely aware of Tessa running back and forth near the foot of the bed.
Poor Tessa, the tension in the room had gotten to her, Eve thought.
“Okay, stop!” Adam ordered. “Stop!”
Eve fell back against the bed, her hair plastered to the back of her neck, her head spinning almost wildly. “Is it here yet?”
Couldn’t she tell the difference? he wondered, amazed. “No.” It was all coming back to him, thank God. “I need you to relax and take a few deep breaths, then push again.”
She did as he told her, knowing he was right even though she resented his presence, resented that he knew what to do. Resented him for bringing her to this state. Her body felt a kinship to a Thanksgiving wishbone being pulled in two separate directions. In agony, she was angry at the world.
“Now push, Eve,” he was shouting at her. “C’mon, push!”
Exhaustion wore away her second wave of energy. She felt as if she had nothing left. Even so, she managed to muster together more from somewhere. Grunting as she followed orders, she pushed for all she was worth.
Again with nothing to show for it except possibly the vein she was certain had burst in her head.
Panting like a twenty-six-mile marathon runner at the end of the race, she fell against the bed again.
All too soon, she heard Adam asking, “Ready?”
If she had any strength, she would have hit him. “No,” she cried hoarsely.
He was positioned to catch the baby when it emerged. Raising his eyes, he looked up at Eve. “I know this is hard—”
“How?” she demanded in an angry whisper. “How do you know?” He wasn’t a woman, he had no right to say that he knew. He didn’t know.
“Okay, I’m making an educated guess here,” Adam conceded. “But you can do this. I know you can do this. Women have been doing this since the beginning of time.”
More proof that God wasn’t a woman, Eve thought. But there really was no other choice. She had to do this or die. Propping herself up on her elbows, screwing her eyes shut, Eve bore down and pushed until she thought her head would pop off. And then she pushed some more.
Dying was beginning to sound like a very tempting option.
“You’re doing it, Eve!” Adam exclaimed excitedly, cheering her on. “You’re doing it!”
It felt as if her insides were being ripped apart by some powerful, unseen hand. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, she saw concentric orbs of bright red and gold.
“I … know …” Eve panted. She could barely scrape together enough energy to push the words out of her mouth.
And then she heard it. A small, lusty wail.
Her baby? Was that coming from her baby? Or was she just hallucinating?
Belatedly, she realized that she still had her eyes shut. Her lashes were wet with perspiration and all but glued together.
When she opened her eyes, she saw what was in her estimation the most beautiful sight that had ever been created. Her baby in Adam’s arms.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
Unable to maintain her position a second longer, Eve’s elbows went out from under her and she collapsed back onto the bed.
“Beautiful,” Adam answered reverently, looking down into the dewy face of his daughter. He was completely mesmerized and enchanted. And utterly head over heels in love.
Had anyone asked, he would have said that his heart was impenetrable, that the only one who had ever managed to crack the exterior had been Eve. But this little being, this nothing-short-of-a-miracle that he had helped bring into the world, had seized his heart in her tiny hands the moment she made her debut.
He was in love with her, in love with this miracle who had come from nothing, who was the result of a chance, passionate coupling and a product