“The bride can’t cater her own damn wedding,” came Carson’s annoyed voice. He stepped into the waiting room, with Ryan and Becker in tow, and glared at his soon-to-be wife. “You’re just going to have to pay someone else to do it.”
“I’ll prepare everything the night before,” Holly insisted.
Annabelle smothered a laugh as she listened to them argue. She could tell they were madly in love, which brought a tiny pang of envy to her chest. Had she and Bryce ever acted that way with each other, loving and teasing and so obviously infatuated with each other?
“I got turkey and ham,” Ryan said, holding up two sandwiches covered in plastic wrap. “Pick one.”
She reached for the ham and unwrapped the sandwich, as Jane got up to sit with Becker, digging into the potato chips he’d brought her, and Holly and Carson split a tuna sandwich.
John Garrett walked into the waiting room while the women were eating, looking completely frazzled. Annabelle noted he was an extremely good-looking man, with dark hair, intense eyes and a long sexy bod. Even the lines of exhaustion creasing his face didn’t take away from his handsomeness. Jeez, did the Navy only allow sex gods to enlist or something?
“Six centimeters,” Garrett announced, raking both hands through his hair. “Shit, I’m dying in there.”
“Is she okay?” Holly asked, her green eyes wide with concern.
“She’s fine, considering.” Garrett looked like he was going to keel over any second. “But she keeps yelling at me, and I’m pretty sure she broke one of my fingers during the last contraction.” He held up his hand and sure enough, his pinkie was red, swollen and bent at a slight angle. And yet he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about it, and a few minutes later, he said he’d keep them posted and went to be with his wife again, broken finger and all.
Annabelle was impressed. Maybe it was a military thing, but she’d never seen a man look so calm. She shot a sidelong glance at Ryan, wondering how he’d react in this type of situation. His wife yelling and in pain, clinging to his hand so tightly she broke one of his fingers. She got the feeling he’d be calm too.
“So,” Ryan said after Garrett left the room. “How long do you think this’ll take?”
“Not long,” Carson said at the same time Holly replied, “Probably hours.”
Ryan groaned, evidently smart enough to know that the woman was always right. And right Holly was. Two hours passed before they knew it. Then three and four. By the time hour number five ticked by, the waiting room became substantially quiet. Annabelle yawned and stretched her legs out, leaning closer to Ryan. In the corner of the room, Jane had fallen asleep on Becker’s shoulder and he was absently running his fingers through her hair. Carson was asleep too, head lolled to the side, while his fiancée buried her nose in a paperback novel.
Annabelle jumped when she felt Ryan’s lips brush across her earlobe. “This is so boring,” he whispered in her ear.
She smiled. “It’s hard work pushing out a baby. I doubt Shelby is finding it boring at all.”
“Yeah, well, Will and his wife have the right idea. They’re going to show up in a few hours, all bright-eyed and ready to hold the baby, and they’ll laugh at us for our six-hour wait.”
“It could be worse,” Annabelle pointed out. “My mother was in labor with me for thirty-two hours.”
“That does not surprise me,” Ryan said solemnly. “You went from a difficult infant to a difficult adult.”
“Ha ha.”
He shifted close again, his tongue darting out to lick her ear. “I have an idea,” he rasped.
“Oh really?”
Planting a little kiss on her neck, he met her gaze and said, “Number four.”
She coughed in surprise, instantly catching his drift. “At the hospital? No way.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“You really need to stop promising me fun.” She gestured around the quiet waiting room. “So far, I’m not having fun.”
“But you will.” Before she could blink, he was on his feet and pulling her up. “Let’s go make some memories, babe.”
At the sound of movement, Holly looked up from her book. “Going to stretch your legs?” she asked, the amusement in her green eyes revealing that she knew precisely what they were about to do.
“Sure are,” Ryan said easily. “Want anything from the vending machine?”
“No, thanks.” Holly winked at Annabelle as Ryan linked his arm loosely through hers as if they were going on a leisurely stroll.
It was past ten, and the hospital corridor was bustling. Nurses in bright pink scrubs hurried by, doctors stood in the hallway studying patient charts, and they passed several family members with either pink or blue balloons going into rooms to visit the new moms. They walked past the nursery, and at the sound of a newborn wailing, Annabelle glared at Ryan. “I refuse to have sex near babies.”