My water broke, and Logan is ushering me to the helicopter pad, because the nearest hospital is two hours away.
And he insists on us having our child at the hospital, not at home with a midwife. He doesn’t want to take any chances or risk the life of the child or mother.
I don’t argue, but the contractions are hell.
Will I make it to the hospital, or am I about to give birth in his luxury private helicopter? That’s not a story I want to tell when our child gets older.
He buckles me into the helicopter seat. Logan is the pilot and while I want to squeeze his hand and feel him there for support, he needs to focus on getting us to the hospital alive.
The flight isn’t as awful as I imagined it would be, and before long, I’m being wheeled into the hospital to deliver a baby boy.
“I hate you,” I grind between clenched teeth at Logan. The contractions are seconds apart, not minutes. The pain radiates through every inch of me, and I want this baby out.
He takes my hand in the most gentle and soothing manner, and I squeeze the crap out of it as another contraction rips through me.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this!” I growl at him.
Logan knows when to keep his mouth shut, and right now, he’s trying to contain himself. Whether he’s annoyed with me or just biting his lip to keep from making some snide comment, he’s wise to remain quiet.
The doctor instructs me to push, and if I thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, I was wrong.
I’m exhausted, and our baby hasn’t even made it into the world yet. How am I going to handle being a mother?
Worry plagues my mind, and Logan latches onto my palm with both hands, his grip strong. “You’ve got this,Sunshine.You’re tough. You can do it. Just breathe through the contractions like we practiced.”
“Like I practiced,” I snap at him. I can’t help the anger that jolts through me. It’s worse than our first fight. Except this time, I don’t mean it. And the tears fall because I don’t want him to hate me.
When did I become such a wreck?
Oh, right, pregnancy.
Hormones and growing a child inside of you will do it.
I’m flooded with relief when the baby is finally born, seven pounds, four ounces. He has Logan’s dark hair and my bright-blue eyes. He’s healthy and perfect.
We both decide to name him Miles, because Logan swears to me that he’d travel every mile across the world if I ever left his ass again. I vow in return that nothing would ever come between us or stand in our way.
We’re not wed, not yet. Some things take more time than others. Our primary focus has been strengthening our relationship and ensuring that Julianna is settling in with a new sibling.
I moved into the penthouse suite a few months after our pregnancy announcement. Having a room at the resort to myself seemed absurd, and Logan wanted to witness every moment of the pregnancy together.
I wanted that, too, with him.
I still work for Luxenberg Enterprises and report up through Logan, which seems crazy, but Levi doesn’t have a problem with it as long as we are both productive and the resort is doing well. Plus, I suppose Levi and Logan being business partners makes the issues non-existent. Logan doesn’t technically work for Levi.
And Jules finally gets to intern for me when she’s out of school this summer. I think Levi might even pay her a few dollars for the gig, but she’s more excited to learn everything I do and help run our social media accounts.
Blue Sky Resort has been doing fantastic. We are constantly booked out during the winter months. Logan keeps talking about adding on to the resort and expanding.
I half-expect Logan to buy a car for Julianna's sixteenth birthday. Instead, he set up a game room in one of the empty suites downstairs that requires a private keycard for entry. Whenever Julianna wants to invite her friends over and is looking for something to do, especially in the summer, the game room gets a lot of use.
There are old-school video games like Pac-Man, an array of arcade racing games, and even a claw machine that Logan filled with stuffed animals.
It is quite literally Jules’ arcade. The girl doesn’t know how lucky she has it with Logan as her father. And I’m sure Miles will be spoiled just as much when he gets older.
Logan brings Miles and me home. He’s thought of everything, turning the spare bedroom into a nursery. Although we also have a bassinet set up in the master suite.
I’m stretched out on the sofa, nursing Miles, when Logan grabs a seat beside me. He lifts my legs, sitting under them before putting my feet back on his lap. His fingers instantly move to massage my calves and feet.