A Werewolf, A Vampire, and A Fae Walk Into A Bar (Book 1 of The Last Witch Series) novel Chapter 3

He sighs. “You deserve a nice guy to settle down with.”

Before I can reply, another wave of pain grips me, and I lean against the bar to catch my breath.-

Joe stands, clutching his beer as he does. "Bern, you okay?" He looks around, a panicked expression on his face. "Hey guys, Bernie's baby's coming. We got to get her help!"

“I’m fine. Relax. It’s just Braxton Hicks. Totally normal.”

Frank and Phil stand and drop some bills in front of them. "You sure you’re okay?” Phil asks.

I nod, loading drinks on a tray to take to the newcomers.

“Alright then. Take care, Bernie. See you tomorrow," Phil says as he teeters out on slightly drunk legs.

Frank hesitates by the door, glancing at Joe then back at me. "You gonna be okay, kid?" he asks. I wince at the kid part, but he's been calling me that since I was born so it's hard to expect different.

"Yeah, it's fine. I’ll be closing up soon anyways. Get home safe. Say hi to Alice and the kids."

He grimaces at the thought of his family. "Will do."

When the door opens, a flurry of snow and cold air blows in. Frank and Phil leave quickly, shivering as they step outside.

I hold the tray carefully and serve the new guys, studying them as I do. None of them speaks, but their simmering glares speak volumes.

“You three look like you’re having fun,” I say. “Bachelor party?”

Sexy #1 raises an eyebrow. “Are you Bernadette Morgan?” he asks.

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow in return. “Who’s asking?”

“Hey Bern, one more drink, pretty please?” Joe asks, interrupting whatever Sexy #1 was about to say, if he was about to say anything at all. “I’ve only had… a couple? A few.”

“Joe, you know that’s not a good idea. You’re drunk enough for a night like this.”

I head back to the bar and start running through my closing check list when another pain grips my belly and I brace myself against the counter, taking quick breaths that sound a little too much like I'm in labor.

I'm not.

I can't be.

It's too soon and I'm snowed in. There would be no way to get to a hospital tonight.

I grab my phone to Google Braxton Hicks contractions. I mean, I've read all the damn books and I know what I'll find, but I need Dr. Google to make me feel better—or convince me I'm dying of a rare disease. Either way, as long as this baby doesn't make her debut today, I'm good.

I open my browser, but it lags. Shit. No service.