Free Home For The Holidays (Dirt Track Dogs #6) by P. Jameson Page B

next one started.
    “Go baby, go,” Blister blurted. “Get on it. Ride hard. You’ve got this one in the bag. No way you’re not winning this thing. The finish line’s right there, baby.”
    The odd words were almost enough to make her laugh through the pain. Punk and Destiny stopped everything they were doing and just stared at him, mouth agape.
    “What?” he snapped.
    “This isn’t a fucking race,” Punk said, but Annie could see she was about to crack up.
    “You said to cheer her on!”
    Annie laughed but it came out more like a wail.
    “Okay, okay.” Destiny put her hands in the air to stop them. “How about this, just hold her hand and tell her how much you love her. Think you can do that?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Another contraction, and it was starting to become so constant it was numbing. Or maybe her body was just adapting to the agony.
    “I love you, Annie. So damn much. God, I love you.”
    “Love… you…” she breathed. “Need to stand.”
    Destiny nodded. “Okay, that’s a good sign. Let’s help her up.”
    The three of them propped her up in a squatting position and the pain in her back eased a notch.
    “Time to push,” Destiny announced, and that sounded right. Felt right. It felt like a boulder was stuck between her legs.
    Get it out, get it out .
    On the next wave, Annie pushed and felt the baby squeeze into position.
    “I see the head,” Punk squealed. “Blister, do you see the head? It’s your baby! Hold your hand like this, and just support it while she pushes. Wait… are you okay? Can you do this?”
    Annie couldn’t see her mate. Or anything but the backs of her eyelids because they were squeezed so tight in concentration.
    “Yes,” he said, his voice shredded. “I got this. I can do it.”
    The next push was easier and with a rush, she felt the pressure release and exhaustion take over. It was so intense, she could barely feel her limbs to keep upright.
    “Ohhhh shit ,” Blister breathed. “Oh shit, shit, shit .”
    “What is it?” Annie cried.
    Punk helped her lie down while Blister kept uttering profanities.
    “Tell me!”
    Her eyes went everywhere, looking for her young. Where was he?
    Finally, she found him, bloody and tiny and cradled in Blister’s giant hands. Destiny hovered over him, wiping and sucking junk from his mouth with a syringe so he could breathe.
    And then he screamed. A loud, ear-blistering sound that gave Annie such relief tears flooded her eyes.
    Blister stared at her, his eyes peeled so wide they must hurt. “Annie… baby, look .”
    “I know,” she whispered, barely able to speak through the emotions strangling her.
    “Ours,” he growled, and she nodded emphatically, finally able to get a laugh out. A happy, watery laugh.
    “Congratulations.” Destiny grinned wide. “You have a healthy baby girl.”
    Ever so carefully, Blister set the baby on Annie’s still puffy stomach and Punk wrapped a blanket around them while Destiny worked with the cord.
    Annie stared down at the sweet little bundle, so happy and full, she didn’t know how anything could ever top this.
    “Hi there, sweet girl,” she murmured, brushing the tips of her fingers over the mop of blond hair already covering her head.
    Blister dropped to his knees next to the bed, inching his shaking hand closer to their young’s head. “My god,” he murmured. “She’s… she’s… perfect .” His voice broke, and Annie looked over to see a tear slide down his scarred cheek.
    He kissed Annie’s head. Once, twice. And again.
    “Look what we did,” he gasped.
    She beamed at him. “Merry Christmas to us.”
    “You were right.” His expression was so fierce, if she didn’t know him inside and out she might think he was angry. “This is the best damn Christmas present ever.”

Chapter Eleven
     
    It was Christmas Eve and Blister was mixing the tree-sitting with his new favorite job: daddy duty. His little angelbaby was exactly twenty-four hours old, and they were