I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing about that—that she was doing it to show the girls how fast I’d come, or that, as she pointed out, this isn’t my first rodeo and I’m well aware that babies don’t just fall out seconds after contractions start.

Shay’s sitting at her desk, staring wide-eyed at the computer screen.

I try to play it cool and hide that I ran here. “What can I do for you, Dr. Jackson?”

She rolls her eyes at the name, but hell, she earned it. “I have a reply from that agent.”

“The one you queried last week?”

“No, the one whose contact info you gave me. Remember, I sent her my manuscript last month.”

I was starting to think my buddy had given me a false lead when she wasn’t hearing anything back. “What’d she say?”

“She loves it.” She presses both hands against her mouth and shakes her head. “Actually, what she says is she loves, loves, loves it. Three loves, Easton.”

“I told you it was good.”

“And baby, I appreciate that, but how much YA romance do you really read?”

“I don’t have to read the genre to know a good book when I read one.”

She makes a face. “Am I going to be this emotional forever?” Then . . . three, two, one, tears.

I guide her out of her chair and pull her into my arms. Admittedly, hugs aren’t the same these days, with this big watermelon she’s carrying around on the front of her, but I’m not complaining. Shay is beautiful pregnant. It never did anything for me with Scarlett, but the sight of Shay’s rounded belly makes me want to pull out a camera and catalogue every inch and curve of her. I did that one night, but inevitably ended up pulling out other things before I finished.

“I’m so proud of you,” I murmur into her hair. “I knew you could do it.”

“It doesn’t mean anything yet. I told her I’ll sign with her, but now she has to find an editor who wants to buy it.”

“One step at a time.” I run my hands down her back then back up her sides. Slowly, I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her. She squeaks against me, and I pull back. “Are you okay?”

“Easton, I think I need to go to the hospital.” She grimaces.

“What? Are you in pain?” I look around on the floor. “Did your water break? Does something feel wrong?”

“I’ve been having contractions all morning. I just didn’t want to tell you, because you’ve been a little high-strung about this, but they’re about three minutes apart now, and—”

I’m already running to the nursery to get the hospital bag. I’ve nearly perfected my I-think-my-girlfriend’s-in-labor speed and I’m back in a flash. “You ready?”