Porter (Men of Lovibond 3)

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m married to the numbers guy, remember?”

“Yeah. Tap loves to run numbers, especially when they equal dollars.”

Lawrence gets up. “I’ve gotta get going. I have a lunch date with my husband.”

Porter winks at me. “I’m ready for a little lunch myself. How ’bout you, baby?”

“I could eat.”

“Love the designs, Frankee. Give me a holler when you’re done with edits.”

“Will do.”

Lawrence smiles as she leaves, shutting the door behind her, and Porter pulls me into his arms. “I’m so fucking glad to be done with that.”

I hate to break it to him, but he’s not done. He’s just getting started.

“Was it horrible?”

“No. I’m just not sure why she insisted I go. They didn’t do anything but look at her.”

“They didn’t listen to the heartbeat?”

“Yeah, they did that and asked her some questions.”

“I’m sure she wanted you to hear the baby’s heartbeat.” That’s just one of the many ways she’s going to try to make Porter bond with this baby.

“I can’t believe she had me leave work for that. It was nothing but a waste of my time.”

“Aside from the appointment, how did seeing her go?”

He looks away and grunts.

“What?”

“She was sitting on the table waiting for the doctor to come in and she pulled up her shirt to show me her bump and told me to touch it.”

“Did you?”

“No. I’m not touching her.”

“Did anything else happen?”

“They scheduled her next appointment while we were there and she’s having an ultrasound to find out the baby’s gender. She wants me to come to that.”

“No surprise there.”

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

“A father should be there for the ultrasound. That visit is important. But after that, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to go to regular appointments with her if everything is okay.” I don’t think most dads-to-be go to all of the appointments. I only see a couple of men in the waiting area with their wives or girlfriends when I go see my OB-GYN.

“I was hoping you would say I didn’t have to go to any more at all.”

“It’s not my decision to make.”

“I guess I’ll go to that one, but she can forget me coming to any more after that.”

“As long as it’s always your choice.” I won’t have clusterfuck blaming me for Porter missing any milestones in this baby’s life. If he does, it’ll be his decision.

“My choice is to get out of here and start our lunch break.”

“That would be my choice too.”

“I think I feel like fucking you on the kitchen counter today. And maybe I’ll lick peanut butter off your nipples. And jelly.”

“Well, you do enjoy a good PB&J.”

“I bet there’s never been a better PB&J than what I’d lick off your body.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Another month behind us and clusterfuck is at the halfway point of her pregnancy. It’s been easy to avoid her because she hasn’t come back to Porter’s condo. I’m grateful for that but her calls to him are coming more frequently.

He took them for the first couple weeks after her last appointment, but he’s had to resort to telling her only to call in the event of an emergency.

Everything is a fucking emergency.

She vomits and it’s an emergency.

She spots and it’s an emergency.

She farts and it’s an emergency.

But the one that takes the cake is her calling an ambulance because she said her water may have broken. Turned out she just has a nasty vagina and it was vaginal discharge coming out.

But she managed to get Porter out of bed with me to come to the hospital to check on her.

Today is her ultrasound to determine the baby’s gender. We haven’t discussed it, but the day is here now, and we’ve no choice but to talk about it. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t care because you’re afraid I’ll be upset if you show some interest in your child.”

“I’m not acting.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t feel anything when I think about this baby. And then that makes me feel like a shitty person because I know I’m supposed to have some kind of bond or connection or feelings for my child. But I don’t.”

“You’re not a shitty person. The feelings will come when they come.”

“Maybe I don’t have the dad gene.”

I hate that he doubts himself. “I’ve seen you with Anna Cade and Bennett and Callan and Willow and Keeley. You sooo have the dad gene. It oozes out of you when you’re around children and makes my ovaries ache.”

“I love that your ovaries ache for me.”

“A lot of my stuff aches for you.”

“I love that too. I have ten minutes until I have to leave.”

“And?”

“Let me stick it in you.”

“Porter…”

“Come on, baby. Let me put it inside you. I’ll be fast.”

“Is the door locked?”

“It can be.”

“Lock it.”

I sit in the chair beside Charlotte in the exam room while the woman prepares the machine for her ultrasound. “I want you to stand by me so you can see better.”

“I can see just fine from here.”

“No, you can’t. Come here.”

Charlotte loves to tell me what I should be doing. A lot. And it pisses me off.

“You won’t be able to see as well over there,” the female technician confirms.

I’d love to tell these two that I honestly don’t give a shit if I see anything or not.

I get up and stand by the table, my arms crossed, and she reaches out to me. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to hold my hand.”

“I don’t want to.”

Charlotte crosses

her arms over her abdomen. “You smell like her.”

“Of course, I smell like her. I’m always going to smell like her.”

The woman about to do the ultrasound looks over at me and then back at the machine. I’m certain she thinks I’m the biggest asshole who ever walked the face of the earth, but that’s because she’s judging a situation she knows nothing about.

“All set. I’m ready to start. Warm goo on your belly.”

The woman moves the wand over Charlotte’s stomach and points out different parts of the baby’s body for us to see. She says it’s this or that but I can’t make heads or tails of any of it.

“Look, Porter. You can see the baby’s hand and fingers.”

That one I can sort of make out. “Yeah.”

“Let’s see if this baby will show us if it’s a boy or girl.”

The woman moves the wand and takes a still shot of the view between the baby’s legs. She blows it up and points to the screen. “That looks like a girl to me.”

Charlotte squeals and reaches for my hand, this time successfully stealing it from my crossed arms. “Oh my God, Porter, we’re having a little girl. A daughter.”

I don’t want any of this with her.

“We have to start talking about names and picking out the paint color for the nursery and the baby furniture. It’s going to be so much fun.”

None of that is going to be fun.

The technician interrupts Charlotte’s gleeful idiocy. “Have you been feeling any contractions?”

“I don’t think so. But this is my first baby. I don’t know what contractions feel like. Why are you asking?”

“Your cervix looks a little open. I’m going to let your doctor know.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to talk to your doctor so he can make sure. Stay there and I’ll be right back.”

Charlotte’s eyes dart to mine. “What she just said didn’t sound good.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.”

“I’m scared. What if something is wrong?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. I’m sure she has to report every little thing she sees. Wait for the doctor to tell you if there’s something to be concerned about.”

Charlotte’s doctor comes into the exam room. “The tech tells me she might be seeing a little bit of dilation. Could be nothing, but I’m going to do a very gentle vaginal exam and see if it feels like your cervix is misbehaving.”