“Hey now,” Brooks speaks up. “Watching the love of your life grow a tiny human that you know will own both of your hearts is a hard job. I constantly worry about both of you, and the stress of making sure you have what you need and are safe and comfortable is a full-time job.”
“You take such good care of me, big guy,” Palmer assures him. “But admit it. You don’t have to deal with monthly cycles or push a watermelon out of your body.”
“I could do it,” Brooks tells her. “It’s anatomy, but if I had to or if I could, I would do it so that you didn’t have to.”
“I believe you,” she tells him. “I do, but still the pain the three of us”—she motions to herself, Kennedy, and Jade—“are going to have to endure for our babies is one a man will never know. Unless….” She lets her words trail off, knowing damn well every man around is going to ask her to finish.
“Unless what?” all ten men ask at the same time.
“Whoa? That was like coming at me in surround sound.” Palmer laughs. “I have a little something that will help you experience labor pains if any of you think you’re up for it.” She holds up the small black case and grins.
“What is that?” Brooks asks her.
“A TENS device.”
“Oh, shit.” Jade laughs.
“What?” Orrin asks her.
“Nothing.”
“What, you think we can’t handle it?” he asks his wife.
“It’s intense and not even the full spectrum of contractions,” Brooks tells them. He looks back at Palmer. “Beautiful, you’re evil.” He smirks.
“You up for the challenge, big guy?” she asks him.
“You do realize I’m a nurse, and I know that shit can be painful. Especially in sensitive areas.”
“Oh, so you’re chickening out,” Palmer coos.
“Fuck that.” Brooks stands and whips off his shirt, letting his abs hang out. “Hook me up.”
Palmer’s face is full of glee as she unzips the bag and does just that. “Okay, are you ready?”
“Yep.” Brooks is leaning back on the lounger with his hands above his head. Palmer places the leads on his abs.
“Here’s level one,” she tells him. She hits a few buttons, and Brooks grins.
“Easy. Don’t go easy on me, beautiful. Go ahead and ramp it up a little.”
“You sure about that?” Palmer asks him.
“Positive.”
“All right.” Palmer punches the small screen again. “This is five.”
I keep my eyes on Brooks. He flinches, and his abs contract, but he quickly schools his features. “He’s handling that well,” I whisper to Sterling.
“It’s on five, and he’s on the struggle bus. Look at his forehead. It’s pinched, and his legs are now raised, his feet flat on the lounger. He is not sprawled out and relaxed like he was. He’s feeling it,” he assures me.
“Well?” Palmer asks her husband.
“Give me more,” he tells her.
“This time, we’re going to jump to seven. Are you sure you’re ready?” she taunts him.
“Bring it,” Brooks says, his jaw tight, as if he’s already preparing for what’s to come. Palmer taps at the screen, and Brooks’s back flies off the lounger before he sits back once again. “Fuck, okay.” He pulls in a deep breath. “That’s… a lot.” His chest is rapidly rising and falling with each breath, and he can’t seem to keep still. He lifts his arms but then lets them fall back to his sides. This is a process that he keeps repeating. He’s also constantly moving his legs. One second his feet are flat on the lounger. Next, his legs are stretched out in front of him. It’s obvious he’s trying to find a comfortable position and isn’t able to do so.