Getting Rough (25 page)

Quinn put a hand on his hip and squared off with her. “Honey, I’m more of a lady than you’ll ever be. You ain’t fooling nobody with that water bra. Maybe if you waxed those hairy-ass legs,” he said, looking her over. “And your lip,” he tacked on, snidely.

The woman gasped. “How dare you!”

“How dare I?” Quinn asked, insulted. “How dare
you
? I know fashion trends run in cycles, but you’re trying to take us all the way back to the cave. Shame on you, Wilma. Ya better go see what Fred and Betty are up to down at the quarry. ’Cause don’t no woman giggle like that unless she’s getting tickled
right,
” he said with a mocking giggle of his own. Then he gave her a finger wave and shoved the door closed, forcing the woman out and locking it behind her.

Demi high-fived him while Sasha got her giggle-fit on. And then they all turned their attention to me again, with three pairs of raised eyebrows.

My head fell back as I closed my eyes and sighed. They weren’t going to let this go. “Okay, fine!” I turned and stomped into the stall, the three of them moving in closer and just standing there, staring at me.

“Do you mind?” I asked, motioning for them to back up so I could close the door. God, they could be so rude.

“This testy attitude of yours is just further proving our suspicion,” Demi said through the door.

I silently mimicked her, though she couldn’t see my sass, but got on with the task presented before me anyway. If for no other reason than to simply prove them wrong. Pulling the contents from the package, I yanked down my pants and assumed the position. Once I was done, I stood there and waited. And waited.

“Time!” Sasha called.

My hands shook as I picked up the little pink and white stick and read the result.

When I opened the stall door, they were all there, crowding me in and not leaving any room for me to move past. All I could do was stare blankly at my friends as dead silence filled the room.

Quinn was the first to make a move, slowly maneuvering himself to get a look at the stick with his own eyes.

“What’s it say?” Demi asked him.

“Rizzo’s got a bun in the oven.”

Crap.

I’ve thought about what and whom to include here for, like, a million hours, running through all the regular material and the normal people. And while I’m still going to include those people – because, yeah, they were there for me – I’ve decided to do it in a way that will really let them and you, the reader, know how much of an impact they truly did have on this book.

In past acknowledgments I’ve said the book was hard to write, but they were a piece of cake by comparison.
Getting Rough
got
really
rough. And not because of the storyline or the characters being difficult. This one was personal. Very personal. I’ll spare you the gory details, but everything that happened to me – that I allowed to happen to me – while writing this book can be summed up because of one reason: I’d forgotten who I am.

There were a lot of invaluable people present in my life who tried their damnedest to get me back on track – Patricia Dechant, Whittney Sherman, Kimberly Rackley, Maureen Morgan, Janell Ramos, Melanie Edwards, Brittnie Day, and Bobbie Butler – and while their efforts made all the difference in the world because they know me better than anyone else, I had to figure things out for myself. Which took a huge chunk of my time and energy as I struggled to find the words to the story I knew I wanted to tell.

Not for one second did I take for granted the opportunity before me, though an author is still a human being capable of having to weather through real-life drama of her own. Things going topsy-turvy in the real world can and will have a direct effect on the work she produces. As such, there are bits and pieces of my soul scattered throughout this book. You’ll see it in Cassidy’s confusion, Shaw’s figuring out what’s really important in life, Casey’s learning to let go, Mia’s escape from reality, and in the storm that wreaked havoc in the lives of innocent people.

My incredibly understanding editor, Shauna Summers, and agent, Alexandra Machinist, had my back like you wouldn’t believe. I honestly don’t have the words to thank them for being so accommodating and supportive. And a special note: Thank you, Shauna, for giving me the freedom to express myself and trusting me to tell a story that’s real.

The “aha!” moment came at a time in my life when I – a romance author – had started to believe fairy-tale romances were only a thing of fiction. Fate introduced me to a man who defied that ideal and changed my mind. Thank you, my Superman, for making me believe in fairy tales again.

My incredibly difficult journey to self-actualization was hard fought, but I came out the victor. So here’s to you, Ms. Parker… May you never forget yourself again.

Read on for a sneak peek at the final book in C. L. Parker’s

sizzling Monkey Business Trio:

Coming Clean
 

Available from Piatkus Books.

P
rologue
 

Shaw
 

“Okay, now. I need you to roll over and get on your hands and knees for me.”

Cassidy’s eyes popped wide. “On my hands and knees? But why?”

“Because it’ll give me a better angle to work with,” said the British gentleman whom Cassidy had insisted we use. Though I was seriously considering how much of a gentleman he truly was at this point.

I could do nothing but watch as Cassidy complied with the soft-spoken command, her movements awkward as she shifted around in the small bed, much like a turtle on its back. When she finally assumed the position, the sheet slipped off her hips, falling to barely dangle from her delicate ankles and exposing her ass for all to see. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t get hard at the sight of a naked woman’s backside, even though it was attached to the woman I loved.

“Cassidy, I want you to listen very carefully. What I’m about to do might be a bit uncomfortable, but I need you to try to relax as much as possible.” The deep timber of the Brit’s dreamy accent – per my girl – pulled me out of my trance, and I had to stop myself from launching across the bed and knocking the bloke away from her. Especially when he slipped his large hand between her legs and starting doing God knows what to her vagina.

My vagina.
 

I heard Cassidy’s slight intake of breath, followed by a string of mumbled curses, and my stomach heaved in protest. The lousy cup of stale coffee I had drunk earlier threatened to make a reappearance on the linoleum and my knees started to give. Before I could kiss the floor, a none-too-gentle shove had me seated in a nearby chair with my head between my legs.

“Is everything okay?” Cassidy’s voice came from far away, sounding as weak as I felt.

A cool cloth made its way around my neck and the nausea eased somewhat so I could respond. “I’m fine, sweetness.”

“Not you, Shaw. The baby. What’s going on?”

“There, I’ve got a pulse,” Dr. Edwards, aka Dr. McDreamy said. “Not a bloody good one, either. Get the lot of them in here. Now.”

I lifted my head as the door opened and what seemed like a swarm of people scurried into the room like ants at a free-for-all buffet. Controlled chaos reigned over the room as IV bags were hung and nurses scuttled around, grabbing supplies and placing them on the bed. Someone wearing blue-colored scrubs and a surgical mask around her neck stood at the head, pushing medicine into Cassidy’s IV. Words like
emergency C-section
and
prolapsed cord
were singled out of the verbal montage coming from different people in the room. I couldn’t tell who was saying what.

All the while, Dr. McDreamy still had his arm up my woman’s no-no zone and hadn’t even broken out in a sweat. Maybe that was because I was wearing it for him.

My eyes darted to the fetal monitor beside the bed. The volume had been turned all the way down, though the heart icon continued to flicker. I had no idea what the flashing numbers meant, but the hurried movements of the staff had panic rising up with the force of a tsunami.

I had never felt so fucking helpless in my life. The room seemed to shrink and my vision blurred around the edges until I couldn’t catch my breath. I struggled to hold on to my resolve with each passing second. Shit wasn’t going right, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it except be there for her.
With
her.

“Shaw… Oh no! Shaw, something’s wrong!” Cassidy’s voice acted as my lifeline and pulled me back into the moment. I turned to see the woman who had become my reason for breathing looking panicked and afraid as she was rolled off her knees and onto her back once again. And that scared the shit out of me. Nothing frightened Cassidy Whalen. She was fierce, a force to be reckoned with, unshakable. But the tears swimming in her green eyes confirmed just how fragile she was and how I needed to man up.

Working the boulder-size knot down my throat, I feigned a confidence I in no way possessed and pushed my way between two nurses, ignoring the one giving me the evil eye as I did so. Being careful not to show my own worry in my expression, I gave the hand of the mother of my unborn child a reassuring squeeze. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetness. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, and then a tear slipped down her cheek.

Fuck. I’d just made a promise I knew I couldn’t keep, seeing as I really had no control over the situation. If anything happened to our child, if anything happened to Cassidy… I just couldn’t go there. But someone in this room had better damn well make sure I wouldn’t have to.

“We need to move, people. The baby is in distress.”

“We’re going to OR C. Call NICU for standby.”

“I’m only thirty-eight weeks. It’s too early. Can’t you stop it? You were supposed to stop it.” Cassidy was frantic, begging for answers from anyone who would give them.

“Shh, sweetie, you need to calm down,” one of the nurses with a gentle voice said as she patted Cassidy’s arm. “Yes, it’s early, but luckily not too early. Your baby should be fine. You’ve got the best of the best working for you, but we need to take the little one now.”

“Should be? Should be fine?” I repeated, hung up on those two little words.
Should be
was not a guarantee, it was an opinion. It might be worth noting to this particular nurse, however caring she might be, that this child’s mother and father preferred fact to opinion. I’d just been unscrambling the words in my jumbled-up brain to do so, but I was too late. The “best of the best” were on the move.

“Shaw, don’t leave me.” Cassidy’s hand slipped from mine as I was jostled to the side as if I were of no importance to the woman carrying the baby they were trying so hard to save. But how do you get mad about something like that when it’s your baby?

The hospital staff pulled the bed away from the wall, yanked the cord from the monitor and proceeded out the door. I went to follow but an iron grip wrapped around my wrist and held me back.

“I need to go with her.” I growled the words and tried to yank out of Nurse Evil Eye’s hold.

“And you will,” she promised. A scowl was etched on her face, accentuating her features into one long line of disapproval. She slapped a plastic-covered package to my chest. “As soon as you put this on. I’ll be waiting just outside the door to escort you when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” I ran my fingers through my hair, not really sure where to start first, but knowing I needed to get my ass in gear.

“Unless you want to miss the birth of your child, I suggest you get a move on,” Nurse Evil Eye said, reading my mind. Or maybe she’d just done this a gazillion times during her career and had already known what to expect.

“Right.” Dropping the package at my feet, my fingers went straight to the belt of my jeans.

“No, no, no,” my escort said, stopping me. “They go over your clothes, genius. Hurry up.” And that was all she said before she turned and made a speedy exit, shutting me in the room that had just been bustling with activity only moments before and leaving me all alone.

Alone. I definitely felt the weight of that word, but I didn’t have to because I wasn’t the only one likely freaking out about all of this. Though she was no doubt surrounded by too many people, Cassidy was the one who was alone. The medical staff – adept as they may be – were strangers. Not the father of her soon-to-be-born child. And that wasn’t okay with me.

Holy shit, I was about to be a father. I’d had thirty-eight weeks to prepare for this moment – actually, twenty-eight weeks, considering Cassidy had been eight weeks along when she’d first found out, but had waited another two weeks before telling me – and I was suddenly aware of how unprepared I really was. From the moment I’d heard those two little words – “I’m pregnant” – I’d gone through a whole lifetime of emotions.
My
lifetime.

I’d had the shittiest parents in the world. They couldn’t even be called parents as far as I was concerned. Born the only child to a swindler father who was never around and an alcoholic mother who wished she wasn’t, I’d been left to fend for myself on the brutally hard streets of Detroit. I’d seen nightmares happen before my very eyes, survived by any means necessary, and my seed donors never knew or even cared to know how I’d done it. I was a burden, plain and simple, just an extra mouth to feed that they never fed, but the government funding sure was a nice bit of icing on their dysfunctional cake.

I was going to be different. I was going to make my child, gender as yet unknown, the center of my world. Everything I did from here on out would be all about making a better life for him or her. Fuck my hang-ups over my own parents. Fuck the flip-flopping between being terrified, anxious, happy, and then terrified again. Failure had never been an option for me, and it sure as shit wouldn’t ever be now.

Besides, I had the most determined partner in life that I’d ever known. Cassidy Whalen.

We’d started out as adversaries, and not one single person I’d encountered in my life had been able to give me a run for my money quite the same way Cassidy had. Not even close. We’d gone toe-to-toe for a partnership at the same sports agency where we worked, Cassidy winning, though I’d ended up with the title when she’d turned it down. And what had started out as an underhanded evasive maneuver to throw her off her game and into my bed had only managed to catapult her into my heart instead.

The impossible had been made possible by her doing. She’d tamed me.

I loved her. Really fucking loved her. And I’d never thought the emotion was possible for a man like me who’d done a damn good job of keeping illogical shit like that at bay. If it wasn’t driving the bottom line, it didn’t deserve my time. Now, because of her presence in my life, I was a regular guy; a domesticated man with a little woman at home and an unofficial family, her family, in Stonington, Maine.

And our family was getting bigger. Christ, moments from now, I’d know if I had a son or a daughter. I’d be someone’s daddy… provided he or she survived the birth process. My heart hammered hard and fast in my chest with trepidation and anticipation.

Shoving one leg after the other into the scrubs, I grabbed the rest of the blue stuff in the bag and donned it the best I could figure out. I’d just tied the cap on my head when Nurse Evil Eye popped the door open again.

“They’re not going to wait on you, sunshine. Let’s go.” Why couldn’t I have gotten the nice one?

Cassidy had a death grip on my hand and it was starting to hurt, but I refused to tell her that. Not after seeing all she had been through for the last few hours. Shortly after three
A
.
M
.
she had woken up with contractions strong enough to take her breath away. Things seemed to move pretty fast after that and there wasn’t time to think about how early the baby was coming, how unprepared I felt, and how scared shitless I was at the thought of being a dad. When Cassidy’s water had broken in the car, I’d wished to hell I had said yes to those stupid birthing classes. I was starting to feel light-headed as my breathing picked up and matched laboring Cassidy’s erratic pace.

Now sitting on a small swiveling stool in the OR, my fingers were about as numb as the rest of me.

Cassidy tugged at my arm. “Can you see anything? What’s happening?”

God, please don’t ask me to peek over the blue drape. I don’t think my stomach could take it.
 

“Aren’t you, like, supposed to be knocked out or something? Why are you awake?”

Not waiting for a reply, I repeated the question to the doctor beside me, the same one who had given Cassidy medicine through her IV earlier in her room. “Why is she awake?” My leg was doing an imitation of a Mexican jumping bean under the paper scrubs I was given back in the exam room. Armani it was not.

I had since learned that said doctor was the anesthesiologist, and he would be making sure that Cassidy was comfortable during the C-section. Panic bubbled and fizzed inside my gut and I was suddenly unprepared for this moment. The constant beeping from machines coming from something that resembled a prop used on a
Doctor Who
episode wasn’t helping. And I had yet to figure out if I should be concerned with all those squiggly lines dancing across a monitor, spiking up and down in an erratic pattern.

“She’s fine, Mr. Matthews. And she has an epidural for pain relief. She should be fairly comfortable throughout the procedure.”

“Fairly?” First
should be
and now
fairly
. I had the sudden urge to ask everyone present in the room for their credentials. Starting with the anesthesiologist, aka Dr. Feel Good.

“What the hell does that mean?” Cassidy asked as she tried her best to give Dr. Feel Good the stink eye. Which, admittedly, was kind of hard to do when you were strapped down to a table with your insides about to be brought out to play by the medical staff.

Ugh, that visual is so not helping you, Matthews.
 

“It means you might feel some tugging shortly, Mrs. Matthews, but that’s totally normal.”

“Ms. Whalen,” Cassidy corrected him. “We’re not married.”

“My apologies,” Dr. Feel Good said, with a cut glance in my direction, I might add. “What you shouldn’t feel is pain. If you do, let me know.”

At that point, Cassidy winced and I leaned in closer, kissing her cheek. Sweat coated her face and neck, her copper hair damp. She looked what she would call a hot mess. But she was my hot mess, and she was about to give birth to my child.

She had never looked more beautiful.

“You okay?” I didn’t like the way Cassidy’s color seemed to drain from her face.

“Yes… it’s just… a lot of pressure.” She managed a weak smile.

Feeling helpless, I pushed her hair back and away from her face, stroking her scalp with the pads of my fingers, offering her some sort of comfort in the only way I knew how. My gaze never left hers and a single thought ran through my mind with utter clarity. This was where I belonged. I had found something essential, something invaluable, and it was mine. Ours. Cassidy and I had created a child; a tiny, living human made up of pieces of ourselves. A connection no one could take away or break. As overwhelming as that was, it also felt so fucking right.