Amy clasped a hand over the gripping bulge of baby that chose now of all times to make its appearance. Her fingers grazed the firm hand on her stomach, and she was both thankful and mystified by the other around her shoulders preventing her from collapsing to the floor. All the Lamaze classes in the world couldn’t have prepared her for her water breaking two weeks early in the middle of a busy honky tonk, or the intensity of physical pain she’d suffer—one clenching her body in a vise, and another keener stab of Marshall’s contempt deeper into her heart. She wanted nothing more than to disappear and wallow with her tail between her legs, but it looked like her child had inherited her bad timing. “Amy?” Pressing her lips together against the one pain, she raised her gaze to face the other, unsure how Marshall could even stand to touch her after his reaction to her visit. His dark brows creased in a mixture of confusion and concern over eyes swimming with a myriad of questions in their cobalt stare.
What do You think about Lonesome Cowboy (Honky Tonk Hearts)?
