The Bravo Bachelor. Christine Rimmer

the aftermath of it, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you comfortable.”

      “Comfortable?” She looked at him with horror. She didn’t even know him, and he was going to make her comfortable? Rowdy, she cried inside. Oh, Rowdy. I need you. I need you so bad. Why aren’t you here? What she said was, “I.. .no. I’ll be fine. Really. And you need to go.”

      “Come on,” he said again, as if she hadn’t spoken. He started for the living room, guiding her along, his arm around her waist, keeping her upright at the same time as he urged her forward.

      “Did you hear what I said?” She tried to jerk away.

      He held on. “I heard you. And I’m not leaving. Not until you’ve called for help.”

      Okay. He had a point. She was in no condition to be left alone. And as she shuffled away from the table, she realized she didn’t dare let go of him, after all. Another cramp might come. She would end up on the floor.

      The short walk, as she clung to him, stumbling along, panting, still leaking fluid under her jeans, seemed to take forever. When they got there, he helped her to sit, holding on to steady her as she lowered herself.

      Halfway down to the sofa cushions, she let out a yelp. “No! I don’t think I can…really, I can’t…” What was she saying? She had no idea. “Oh, I’m so scared. This isn’t supposed to be…not now. Too early. I have three weeks yet…”

      “Shh,” he said, so softly. “Mary. It’s all right. Whatever’s going on, you’ll get through it. You will. You’re going to be fine…”

      “Fine?” She stared at him, frantic, sweat in her eyes. “Fine?” She spat the word at him.

      “Yes. Fine.” His blue gaze didn’t waver. “Now, come on. Sit down. You can do it. Come on…”

      And somehow, she did do it. Clutching his arm like a lifeline, she allowed him to guide her the rest of the way down.

      “Good,” he said softly, when at last she was seated. “Now, let’s take off your shoes and you can stretch out.”

      “No!” She slapped his gentle hand away and pressed her legs together in an attempt to hide the dark stains on her jeans. While she was staggering here from the kitchen, the fluid had run all the way down into her Keds. She was not taking off her shoes, all wet and sticky, in front of a man she’d met less than an hour ago.

      Mary groaned low again. The groan deepened to an animal growl as the next cramp struck. She grabbed his hand tight again, suddenly needing the contact. So what if she didn’t know him? He was there and that was everything. Curling over herself, one hand under her belly, the other holding tight to Gabe Bravo, she moaned long and loudly.

      Somewhere in the middle of that one, he said, “I’ll call an ambulance.”

      “No.” She clutched his hand for dear life, squeezing it till she heard the finger joints pop. “Wait. Stay. You have to…one minute…”

      When the cramping passed that time, she panted out instructions. “Phone. Over there. On the desk.” He got it and gave it to her. “Doctor,” she said, wheezing like a winded horse. “Calling my doctor…”

      “All right. Great idea.” He stood there beside her, waiting, as she autodialed the number.

      Dr. Breitmann came right to the phone. She told him about her water breaking and he asked how far apart her contractions were. When she said she could hardly tell as there hadn’t been that many, he chuckled.

      “You’re going to be fine, Mary,” the doctor said. “Just head on over to the hospital. I’ll meet you there and we’ll see what’s going on.”

      “I’m…” She turned away from the stranger looming over her and spoke low into the phone. “I’m all wet.”

      “You can go ahead and change.” Dr. Breitmann said. “And clean up a little, if you wish. Not a bath. But you can wipe off with a damp cloth and then use a sanitary napkin. Amniotic fluid will probably continue to escape.”

      “Ugh,” she said in response to that bit of news.

      “You’ll be okay,” he reassured her again. “We don’t want to fool around with this, but it isn’t what you’d call an emergency.”

      Surely she hadn’t heard right. “It isn’t?”

      “Mary, in spite of what you see in the movies, it can sometimes be days before delivery after the water breaks.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “I’m not. So take a deep breath and calm down.”

      “All right. Yes. I will.”

      “Just get yourself ready and come on to the hospital.”

      When she hung up, Gabe was still looming above her. He demanded, “What did he say?”

      She told him—though really, it was none of his business. “I…have to clean up a little. And then I have to go to the hospital. I’m going to be fine. Thank you for.. .being so great about this.”

      “Not a problem.”

      She waited, figuring he would get the message and get out. But he only looked at her, not budging, leaving her no choice but to tell him outright, “So, then. You should go.”

      “Not until the ambulance gets here. Give me the phone and I’ll—”

      “Uh-uh.” She pressed it to her chest. “You should go.”

      From a pocket, he produced one of those devices that does everything but your laundry. “As soon as the ambulance gets here.”

      She grabbed his hand before he could dial 911. “No ambulance. I don’t need one.”

      The look in his eyes said he thought she was out of her mind. But he did put the device away. “Are you saying you have someone to drive you?”

      She groaned and hunched over her stomach as the next contraction began. He waited, standing close beside her, as it crested and finally eased off. Once she could think again, she raised her gaze to his. “No ambulance,” she repeated, in case he hadn’t gotten the message the first two times she said it. An ambulance would cost more than she was ready to pay. She had insurance to cover the hospital and the birth, but not an optional ride with the EMTs. “Dr. Breitmann said this wasn’t an emergency, so an ambulance isn’t necessary.”

      “Looks pretty damn necessary to me.” His square jaw was set.

      “You’re not the decider on this. You need to—”

      “Forget it.” He glared down at her. “I’m going nowhere. Not until your ride gets here.” He gestured at the phone she still clutched in her hand. “Go ahead. Call them. Tell them to get over here, fast.”

      Mary shut her eyes and sucked in a slow breath through her nose.

      He pressed her, as determined about this as he’d been about his pricey housing development. “You do have someone to drive you, don’t you?”

      She drew herself up. “Of course, I have someone who’s supposed to drive me. My mother-in-law, Ida.”

      “Good. Then call her. I’ll wait with you until she arrives. How far away is she?”

      Mary gulped. “Well…”

      “Where is your ride?” He said each word slowly, as if he doubted her ability to comprehend the question.

      And she was forced to confess, “Ida’s in St. Louis. Her sister’s been sick. And please don’t look at me like that. I do have a ride. It’s all arranged. It’s just…I’m not due for three weeks. Ida was going to be home before the baby came.”

      He sat down next to her on the sofa and touched the side of her face, guiding a sweaty tendril