Their Baby Girl...?: The Baby Mission / Her Baby Secret. Marie Ferrarella

getting up? This wasn’t making any sense. Maybe it was a practical joke after all. He’d seen her deadpan her way through more than one joke before. He gave her arm another tug, surprised at how tightly she continued clinging to the armrests.

      “Quit fooling around, C.J. The faster we get you to a hospital, the better.”

      Biting down on her lower lip, C.J. pushed herself upright and immediately sank down in the chair again. Her legs had buckled, giving way beneath her. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t move.

      She looked up at Warrick. “New plan.”

      Impatience waltzed with nerves. “What?”

      She shook her head, shrugging his hand off her arm. “We need a new plan. I can’t walk.”

      This was bad, he thought, becoming really concerned. C.J. just wasn’t the frail, damsel-in-distress type. She’d been shot once and had almost snapped off his head when he’d tried to help her up off the ground.

      His mind scrambled to make sense of this new input. “Okay, okay, I’ll carry you—”

      “No!” With a sweeping motion, C.J. batted away his hands and then grabbed onto the arms of the chair again. It was either that or rip his arms out of their sockets. The pain was back and it had brought friends. “You don’t understand. It’s too late for that.”

      Did labor enfeeble a woman’s brain? She was talking nonsense. “Too late for carrying?”

      Breathing and talking at the same time suddenly became a challenge. “Too late…for…anything. I’m having this…bay-BEE.”

      The sudden crescendo echoed in his head, hurting his ears. “Yes, I know—”

      Her efforts to the contrary, panic was definitely taking hold. C.J. looked at him. Did she have to explain everything?

      “Now, Warrick…I’m having…it now.”

      He stared at her, numb. “What do you mean ‘now’?” She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she was saying. “As in this minute?”

      The wave of pain ebbed back a few inches, letting her catch her breath. Perspiration was beginning to drench her. “I knew…if…you…sounded out the…letters, you’d…get…it.”

      Feeling a little weak himself, Warrick sank down on his knees beside the chair, holding on to one armrest. “C.J., you can’t be having this baby now.”

      “That’s…not…what the…baby…thinks. It’s breaking…OUT.” This time, C.J. did grab Warrick’s hand. Wrapping her fingers around it tightly, she squeezed and held on for all she was worth. “Oh…God…Warrick, I think…I’m having…an…exorcism.”

      He felt completely powerless and lost. This was not covered in any FBI handbook he’d ever read. “What do you want me to do?”

      C.J.’s answer came without hesitation. “Kill me.”

      Unequal to what was happening, Warrick dragged his hand through his hair, momentarily at a loss. “Damn it, C.J., this would have never happened if you had better taste in men.”

      It was lessening, the pain was lessening. C.J. took a breath and hoped her heart wouldn’t pop out of her chest. She spared her partner an annoyed look. “What…you saying? A better…class of man…wouldn’t…have slept…with me?”

      “No.” Warrick shot her a look. She knew better than that. She knew he thought she was too good for the likes of Thorndyke, even if he hadn’t told her. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

      He dragged his hand through his hair again, trying to think. Nothing came. He didn’t know the first thing to do in this case, other than to keep her from panicking. But it wasn’t easy, not when he felt like panicking himself.

      “I’ve got a law degree, C.J., not a degree in babies. I don’t know what to do.” He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to gather his thoughts together. A small bud of hope began to bloom. “Maybe you’re just having false labor.”

      She felt as if someone had taken a carving knife to her. “If this is…false…labor, I don’t…want…to be around…for the real…thing.”

      Comfortable, he had to get her comfortable. The thought was almost laughable, seeing the situation. Warrick stripped off his jacket and threw it on the floor. She could lie down on that.

      Unbuttoning his sleeves, he pushed them up his forearms. “Okay, let’s get you in a better position.”

      C.J. pressed her lips together, struggling hard not to give in to the waves of panic that were surfing atop waves of pain. “I bet you…say that…to all…the girls.”

      Determined to muster a small ounce of dignity, she tried to get out of the chair herself. Dignity took a holiday. C.J. all but slid out of the chair in a single fluid motion, landing on his jacket on the floor.

      Warrick gave his jacket a couple of tugs, trying to get it flat beneath her and make her more comfortable. It was a futile effort. He knew C.J. wasn’t going to be anywhere near comfortable until this baby had made its appearance in the world.

      He was in over his head.

      Warrick pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling security—”

      Her hand went around his wrist like a steel band. She didn’t want some stranger gawking at her while she writhed in pain. She wanted Warrick.

      “No…no security.” She gave his wrist another tug. “Just…you.”

      She had entirely too much faith in him, he thought. “C.J., I don’t think I can—”

      She wouldn’t let him finish. Her eyes, filled with pain, pinned him. “You’re…my best friend…Warrick. You’ve got…to help me…. You can…do this.”

      Entirely too much faith. Surrendering, Warrick flipped the phone closed. “Yeah, you’ve got the tough part.” He tucked the cell phone back into his pocket and drew closer to her. His voice was calmer when he spoke. If she could have that much faith in him, the least he could do was come through for her. “Okay, C.J., this is all supposed to be natural. What’s your body telling you to do?”

      She grit her teeth together. “Run…like…hell.” And then her eyes opened wide like two huge sunflowers. “I’ve got…to…push!”

      He knew very little about the birth process, but what he did know was that things were happening much too soon. “Are you supposed to do that yet?”

      “Dilated,” she suddenly remembered. “I’m…supposed to…be…dilated.”

      Warrick had heard the term in reference to childbirth before, but for the life of him, he wasn’t sure what that actually meant. “C.J.?”

      The look on his face told her everything. “I’m supposed…to be…fully…opened.”

      That didn’t help very much. Warrick sat back on his heels and looked at her. “I don’t know what you look like fully closed, C.J.”

      Her head ached. It was hard remembering everything that Lori had told them in class. Hard to think at all. Her brain felt as if it was winking in and out. What were the words Lori had used?

      “You’re…supposed to see…the crown…of…the baby’s head.” That was it. Crowning. Lori had called it crowning.

      A sinking feeling was taking up residence in the pit of his stomach. “Where?”

      She stared at Warrick incredulously. When she needed him most, he’d become a complete idiot. “Where…do you…think?”

      He knew exactly where he was supposed to look, he’d just been hoping against hope that he was wrong. They’d shared thoughts, feelings, almost everything over the past six years, and he would have been lying if