It was half-past eleven on a stormy Tuesday when Liam finally zipped up his rain jacket, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against Leah’s forehead by the front door.
“Call me if he kicks too hard tonight,” Liam murmured, his hands resting gently on her waist for a brief, warm moment. “I’m on morning shift tomorrow, but I can—”
He cut off as Leah suddenly gasped, her hand flying to his forearm with a grip so tight her knuckles turned white.
A sharp, violent contraction slammed through her, doubling her over. Before Liam could catch his breath to ask if she was okay, a heavy splash hit the wooden floorboards between them.
Leah’s eyes went wide, hazy with sudden shock and intense pain. “Liam... my water just broke.”
The relaxed, goofy man who had struggled with a wooden crib
