Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
But I’m not officially in charge of anything for two weeks while I get my bearings. And that’s okay.
“We have a baby in room 9, on the delivery floor, who will need a peek,” Liz says. “I’ll let you handle that. He’s a couple of hours old, and we just got a call that he’s breathing a little fast and doesn’t want to latch onto Mom.”
“On it.” I nod and gather my stethoscope, loop it over my head, and head to the elevator. “See you soon.”
L&D is one floor down, so it only takes me a few seconds to make my way to the room, where I see a dark-haired mom in the bed, crying, trying to figure out what to do with her tiny newborn.
And she’s alone.
“Hey there,” I say with a bolstering smile. “I’m Harper, and I hear you might need an extra hand.”
“Oh, thank God. I don’t know why I told my husband it was okay to go have breakfast with his brother,” she says with a sniff. “I’m Dani.”
Yep, the baby is breathing fast and laboring with it, but not horribly.
“Look at all of that dark hair,” I say with a smile as I lean over them. “It’s okay, Dani. You’ve only been doing this for a couple of hours.”
“I can’t get him to eat,” she says with despair. She’s obviously exhausted and worried, and that’s not helping the baby either. “He’s fighting me.”
“Let’s figure this out. May I?” I hold my hands out for the baby, and she immediately passes him over. Directly in her line of sight, I lay the baby on the bed and unwrap him. I don’t want to worry her, but I want to watch his ribs and chest while he breathes, and I put my stethoscope in my ears so I can listen to him.
“Is he okay?” she asks, brushing her tears away.
“He’s just having a hard time catching his breath,” I murmur as I listen. His sides are retracting, which means he’s laboring. “Dani, do you mind if I take your little man to the nursery, just so I can put the monitor on his toe to check his oxygen levels? I’ll bring him right back to you.”
“Oh, of course.” She bites her lip, and her blue eyes fill again. “Oh God.”
“Don’t panic.” I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “Honest, I’m not panicking, either. I just want to make sure he’s getting all the air he needs.”
“That makes sense.” She nods and swallows down more tears. “Yes, let’s make sure.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I set the baby in his mobile crib, scan their wristbands, and roll him to the nursery. Once I get the pulse ox wrapped on his toe, I frown.
Ninety-three.
I don’t like that. It’s not horrifying, but it’s not great.
I take his temperature, and it’s just a little high at 99.2.
“Little man, you’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”
He’s adorable, with all that dark hair. His coloring is good, but I don’t like that quick breathing at all.
I note his pediatrician’s name and put a call in to her, then wheel him back to his mom.
“Well, Dani, we’re going to keep an eye on little Bryce. He’s struggling just a little to breathe and has the tiniest fever.”
Dani frowns.
“Honestly, the fever could be from the trauma of birth. This fella has been through a lot today.”
She nods, her eyes pinned to her baby.
Thankfully, the pediatrician, Dr. Lachland, bustles in behind me.
“Well, hello there,” she says, smiling at Dani. “I hear Bryce is breathing a little fast.”
Dani bites her lip. “I should call my husband.”
“You’re more than welcome to do that,” I assure her. “Go ahead if it’ll make you feel better. Call anyone you need.”
She nods and quickly types on her phone while Dr. Lachland goes through the same vitals I did.
“Oxygen was at ninety-three,” I tell her.
“You know, Dani,” Lachland says after nodding gratefully at me, “there’s a chance this is nothing at all. But there’s also a chance that Bryce might have aspirated some fluid when he was being delivered, and I want to make sure his lungs are okay. I’d like to do a chest X-ray, and maybe even run some labs to make sure there’s no infection.”
“He’s two hours old,” Dani says, shaking her head and wiping tears from her cheeks. “How can he already have an infection?”
“It’s unlikely,” Lachland assures her. “This is preventative.”
Just then, two big men enter the room, and I step back out of the way.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Blackwell.”
My head comes up at that.
There he is.
Blake Blackwell.
The man who’s starred in every dream of mine for the past five months.
The man who gave me more orgasms and rocked my world in ways that have never happened before in my life.
I might be breathing harder than the baby.