“Unscathed” wasn’t exactly the right word, Josie knew. Having every mucosal section of skin in the nether regions shredded like mozzarella cheese over a pizza wasn’t quite her personal definition of unscathed—and she knew that for the next three days after the baby was born Laura’s best friend wasn’t going to be Josie, Mike, or Dylan. It was going to be ice packs and Lidocaine gently placed over her crotch and those stretchy, mesh panties that were anything but sexy, but that became a woman’s life line as she recovered postpartum.
All of that, though, Josie had to push out of her mind because right this moment she had one thing to think about—and that was getting Laura through this. Dammit, she thought. Make that two thoughts, because right behind Mike and Dylan she sensed another presence, a masculine, self-possessed, and oh, so seductive presence. One that somehow managed to push Thor and his sidekick aside about as readily as a lion bats an annoying mouse.
How could the hot OB do this to her, to the room, to the world? How did someone she had just met ten minutes ago suck all of the negativity out of her atmosphere and fill it with a keening, sultry desire that made everything else go away? Her poor friend was sitting here, perched on top of an oversized playground ball, her head down, her breathing labored, her back wrenched as her h*ps split to let her baby emerge.
And all Josie could think about was grabbing Alex and finding a quiet room and riding him like a bull. A good friend would have anything but sex on her mind right now.
Apparently, Josie was not a good friend.
She happened to be standing at the end of the bed, and Alex came over to her left and reached across her to grab the chart. Her eyes were drawn to the smattering of dark hair that peppered the skin of his outstretched arm, the taut muscles of his wrist, the way the bones all moved so fluidly. Of course, he had surgeon’s hands, with long, slim fingers that grasped the metal chart as if he were a catcher in a baseball game receiving a ball. Flipping open the chart, his forearms flexed with movement, the sinew and bulging veins speaking to some sort of outside activity that made him athletic and active. Her mind wandered once more to the bedroom. Was he athletic and active there?
She closed her eyes and squinted, trying to drive the thought away as he was mere inches from her. The scent of something citrusy, spicy, and a bit musky all mingled to make her hum even more vibrantly like a magnet drawn to iron shavings— except the magnet was her nether regions, a familiar warmth pooling in her belly above her pubic bone, threatening to make her breathing as labored as Laura’s. The muscles that were clamping inside Josie may have been in the same area as Laura’s, but they were producing a noticeably different sensorial effect.
“Excuse me,” Alex said, looking over with a flirtatious tone to his voice.
“By all means,” she said. “You are the doctor.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at that and he shot her a puzzled look. “But I’m not in charge here,” he reminded her. “Sherri is.”
Could you be any more perfect? she thought. A humble OB? Impossible. There was no such thing. She wanted to say that, to test him, to push him, see where his limits were, but this wasn’t the time. At that exact moment Dylan walked over to Laura and began rubbing her back while Mike poured a glass of water.
“Laura, you okay?” Dylan asked, bending over her shoulder.
“Am I okay?” said a demon voice from deep inside Laura’s core. “Am I okay? Do I lookokay?” she asked.
Josie winced. Dylan was about to get it. “No, I just mean…”
For the first time since they’d arrived, Josie got a good look at Dylan. He was wearing a navy polo shirt, some torn jeans, flip-flops, and a baseball cap. Red Sox. Must be a game day.
“It’s okay, Laura. It’s all right, babe,” Mike said, coming over with a glass of water, trying to soothe her and glaring at Dylan. Dylan looked back, shrugging, his palms up in the air in a what did I do? kind of motion.
“It’s not okay!” Laura shouted. “Quit telling me it’s okay! You!” She pointed at Dylan. “And you!”—now at Mike—“aren’t the ones who are about to have this baby come out the hole where you put her in. If one more person in this room,” she shouted, looking around, her eyes wild and angry, “tells me it’s going to be okay, I’m going to order you out of here. I’m going to strap you down and I’m gonna load a bunch of Pitocin in your veins and I’m gonna make you feel how it feels to have your ass**le clamp down for forty-five to sixty seconds every two to three minutes and then I’m gonna make you shit an eight- pound brick. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the men said in unison. Josie almost said it too, and then bit her lower lip, afraid to piss off Laura any more.
Alex leaned down and Josie could feel his breath before he said a word, the heat tickling her earlobe, making her lose about ninety-nine percent of the thin thread of resolve that was left. “I’m going to assume,” he said, his voice like a soft touch, “that she’s not always like this.”
“No,” Josie answered, whispering, her mouth so close to his earlobe she wanted to stand on tiptoes and bite it. “Only when she’s shitting an eight-pound brick.”
He nodded somberly. “Most of my patients find the brick is worth it.” His smile lit up his eyes as he studied her face. “You have kids?”
The question shocked her. It shouldn’t have—she was getting to that age where it was becoming more common—but it still did. “Um, no. I kill house plants and the only reason my cat is still alive is because he’s smarter than I am.”
He chuckled. “Not everyone’s ready at the same time, right?”
What was that supposed to mean? “And some of us aren’t ready even when reality is staring us down the birth canal,” she said, nodding at Laura.
“Her level of denial must be pretty extreme,” he said.
“You don’t know the least of it.”
Dylan was attaching some sort of MP3 player to Laura’s shirt as she batted away the earbuds. “I don’t want to listen to that crap,” she said, bursting into tears. “I just want someone to hold me.” A loud, winding-down cry like a toddler’s poured out of her as she melted into a puddle of tears, sniffling against Dylan’s chest, his body twisted in an awkward pose. He looked at Mike and shook his head, eyes begging for help.