Entice

by S. E. Hall

  “Nice to see you, Emmett, how are you feeling?”

  Dr. Greer is wonderful. She has a monotone, soothing voice and a neutral face no matter what you say or ask. Some women might find her sterile or cold, but for me? For me she’s the perfect doctor.

  “A lot better, actually. I’m not as tired and sluggish all the time and my appetite’s back. It was like one day I woke up and was finally over the flu.”

  “Yes, this middle trimester is usually the part women choose to remember, thus multiple births. You’re no longer sick, and not yet large, so enjoy these next few months.”

  I nod, instinctively looking over my shoulder; for the hundredth time in the last hour.

  “Are we waiting on Mr. Beckett?”

  “Oh, no,” I falter, caught. “He had an exam, so he said he’d try, but,” I suck in a deep breath, showing these damn hormone-driven emotions who’s boss, “it’s fine, we don’t have to wait.”

  “Okay, well unless you have any concerns, a vaginal exam isn’t necessary today. Your vitals are excellent, urinalysis normal.” She talks with her head down, looking at my chart. “Oh. Oh my.”

  “What is it?”

  “It says here that Mr. Beckett called in with some—” She titters, covering her mouth. “Sorry, excuse me, with some questions. Shall we go over them?”

  When she finally raises her head, making eye contact, the humored twinkle where I’m used to stoic professionalism tells me I do not want to hear this.

  I cover my face with both hands and brace myself for the oncoming conversation. “All right, let’s do it,” I mumble through my fingers.

  “Emmett!”

  “What in the world?” Dr. Greer moves quickly to stand and open the door, sticking her head out in the hall. “Mr. Beckett? She’s in here.”

  An out of breath Sawyer comes barreling through the door, apologizing as he practically mows over the poor doctor. “Hey, Shorty, what’d I miss?” He comes to my side and kisses me, like everything that just transpired is completely normal and no one noticed he’s a lunatic.

  “H-hi? What, why?” I’m flabbergasted, shaking my head and starting over. “Why didn’t you ask the receptionist to show you back instead of yelling your way down the hall?”

  “Excellent question, Emmett,” Dr. Greer says from behind him, her toe tapping on the floor a loud, punishing sound in the tiny room.

  “She was on the phone and all holding up her one minute finger at me. And shit, babe, I didn’t want to miss anything more than I had to. I’m sorry,” he turns his head to address Dr. Greer, “but your desk chick wants me, so she was stalling, trying to keep me from my woman.”

  “My desk chick wants you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, repeating him, not asking him. Of course he answers her anyway.

  “Yup, she undressed me with her eyes like five times while I waited. Then she eye sucked me before I—”

  “I’ve got it.” She holds up her hand, cutting him off. “You certainly are a handful, aren’t you?”

  “Actually, I’m—”

  “Sawyer!” I stop him, shrieking in sheer mortification.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles to us both, pouting for 1.1 seconds before winking at me and stealing another kiss. “So,” he claps his hands and rubs them together, “where were we?”

  “We were about to go over the questions you phoned in,” I grit out.

  “Oh good.” He faces Dr. Greer matter-of-factly. “I have a few concerns.”

  “Oh, I read,” she answers with a lilting laugh, her usually stoic face betraying an almost entertained smile.

  Holy crap, he’s done it! He’s cracked her shell—she can’t wipe the tickled look off her face.

  “Let’s see, number one,” she clears her throat, “should I be worried about going too far in and hurting her? Should I hold back an inch or two? I don’t want to poke the baby.”

  “You actually called up here and asked that?” I hiss, a hinting sob of embarrassment intermingled with my question.

  “Actually, Emmett, many men have that same fear and question. They tend to articulate it differently, but it’s the same concern.”

  “See, babe,” he rubs my shoulder, “I’m not the only one.”

  “Uh huh,” I reply curtly.

  “No, Mr. Beckett, you cannot poke the baby. It is physically impossible.”

  “Even if you’re like—”

  “Physically. Impossible,” she reiterates firmly.

  “Good to know.” He smiles over at me and I have to bite my lip, ‘cause he’s seriously happy, and it’s kinda adorable. He honestly thought his massive manhood was gonna stab the baby in the head.

  “Next.” She coughs, I think to cover a laugh, and Sawyer’s halfway to her to pat her back when she waves him off and recovers. “How hard is too hard?”

  “Right.” He nods.

  “What are we talking about here? Do you mean an erection getting too hard?”

  “Nooo, like…” he trails off.

  OH. DEAR. GOD. HE’S. DEMONSTRATING.

  “You know, going in too hard. Should I hold back some power, ‘cause the other night I was really givin’ it to her, like hard? I don’t want to jar the baby loose or something.”

  Dr. Greer is scarlet, moving to the sink to wash her hands even though she hasn’t touched anything. “Anything that Emmett is all right with, erm, comfortable with, is fine.”

  “What about bent over?”

  “Fine.”

  “On top? Really bouncing?”

  “All sex is fine.”

  “Yes!” He beams, flashing me a wink. “S’all good, babe.”

  “I heard.” I cringe, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  “Any other questions?” she asks the ceiling.

  Poor Dr. Greer. He does take some getting used to.

  “Hmm,” he rubs his chin, “no, I think that covers it.”

  “Thank God,” she mutters under her breath. My sentiments exactly. “All right then, Emmett,” her gaze turns to me, “let’s go ahead and do a quick ultrasound today. You may even get to find out the gender if we’re real lucky.”

  “Oh, we’ve decided to let that be a surprise. But can we still do one anyway, to see everything else?” I ask.

  “Certainly. I’ll send a tech in.” She closes the folder and heads for the door. “And I’ll see you in a month. All right?”

  “Sounds good.” I smile warmly. “Thank you, Dr. Greer.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Sawyer chimes in, offering his hand, which she pretends not to see as she blazes out the door.

  “Shit!” he yells, banging his forehead with his palm. “I forgot to ask about anal!”

  “You ready?” Laney sticks her head in the front door, finding me in the midst of chaos. It looks like I’ve been robbed, everything I own flung about haphazardly. “Emmett? Emmett, what’s wrong?” She rushes in and skids to her knees by my side, putting an arm around me.

  “I can’t find it!” I wail, wiping my nose and snorting embarrassingly. “It’s missing! Gone!”

  “What is, sweetie?”

  “The ultrasound picture! I wanted to show you guys today, but it’s gone! I looked,” my sob shakes my whole body with a shudder, “everywhere. My purse, every drawer, the car. Where could it be?”

  “We’ll find it, don’t worry.” She hugs me to her side. “I promise, we’ll find it.”

  “Th-thank you.” I inhale a cleansing breath, pulling myself together. “Can we find it before we go?” I can’t go out for “girl’s day” without laying my hands on Alex’s mug shot first.

  “Have you asked Sawyer if he’s seen it?” She stands, helping me to do the same, then tucking the couch cushions back in place.

  In my frantic state, I hadn’t even thought of that. Brilliant, Em. “Where’s my phone?” I pat myself down, no pockets, ready to yank apart the sofa again.

  Laney stops with a hand to my arm. “I’ll call it. And then I’ll call Sawyer. How about you go splash some wate
r on your face and grab your shoes. Sound good?”

  “K.” I stumble aimlessly down the hall, as though disconnected from myself. It’d be impossible to explain how many ways pregnancy toys with you to someone who hasn’t experienced it. One minute you’re fine, the next? The sky is falling.

  “Emmett!” she hollers down the hall. “I found your phone. And your picture.”

  Spinning around so fast I get dizzy, I plant a hand on the wall and settle, then run to her. “Where was it?” I search her hands. “Where is it?”

  “Now Emmett, you know I really love Sawyer, so I need you to promise me you’re not going to go all pregnant postal and kill him.”

  I reach up and rub my temples. “Just tell me.”

  “He took the picture with him to get copies and enlargements made!” she explains with a sigh. “How sweet is that? You’re happy with him now, right? It’s not at all kill worthy, I think.”

  “At ease, soldier,” I say with a laugh. “It was very sweet. I won’t hurt him.”

  She sighs in relief. “Awesome, now let’s go. Whit and Bennett are waiting.”

  The drive to lunch is interesting; Laney swears if I have an ultrasound picture, I know the gender, and berates me the entire way to “give it up.” I swear on everything I know to that I don’t, but her cutting eyes tell me she doesn’t believe me.

  “I’ll ask Sawyer. He’s like a book and he can’t lie.”

  “I’m not lying to you!” I feign devastation. “And you know that pregnant postal thing we talked about? You’re fixing to get it firsthand.”

  “Oh, Emmett,” she gut laughs, “you and I are gonna get along just fine. I’m even gonna buy your lunch!”

  Chapter 22

  While She Was Sleeping

  —Sawyer—

  Sawyer,

  My eyes are closing as we speak, so I will no doubt be asleep by the time you get home. The girls wore me out today, how fun are they? Oh, and between the four of us, the crib is all finished! (Don’t worry, they all pinky swore to give you all the credit.)

  Hope work was okay tonight and I’ll see you in the morning.

  xo Em

  Work wasn’t great tonight. Mariah came in and tried to show her ass, literally…but the note Emmy left me suddenly makes it all better. The paper holds the slightest trace of her Red scent and one sniff calms my nerves. I creep down the hall, being as quiet as I can, and find her in bed. She’s on her side facing me, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other on her stomach. I’d never mention it first, but lately, there’s a tiny bump emerging and I love it. Call me crazy, but with Hayden, Parker’s wife, it was like the bigger she got, the hotter she got. Emmett’s already the most beautiful girl I know, and adding in the whole growing a baby thing, well…Damn.

  Stripping down to my briefs as quickly and silently as possible, I climb in beside her. Remaining still, I make sure I didn’t wake her, then scoot down in the bed until my legs hang off the end of the mattress so my face is even with her belly.

  “Hey there, sport, or princess, or whoever you want to be, no pressure.” Off to a great start. “What I mean is, hey you in there,” I whisper. “I’m gonna be your dad. And one day, maybe you’ll hear things, like I’m not your dad dad or something, but I’m hoping by then I’ve taught you how to see through that bullshit. Oh sorry, I mean, that crap. Being a Dad means more than you’ll ever learn in Biology. I’m gonna do my damndest to show you what all those other things are. And if you’re a son, I’m gonna show you how to love a woman right, the way I love your mama. And if you’re a little girl, I’ll show you what to expect from a man.”

  The feel of a hand on my head, rubbing softly, tells me I’ve been caught.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  Kissing her stomach, I shift up even with her. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought I was whispering.”

  “You were.” She smiles sleepily, stroking my head. “It’s fine. That was worth waking up for.”

  I lean in and touch my lips to hers. “Go back to sleep, babe.”

  “Who taught you to be such a fine man?” she asks softly. “You’ve never told me a thing about your family.”

  “Sure I have, I told ya I wouldn’t go there. The Crew’s my family, especially Dane.”

  “What about your parents? Grandparents? Aunts, uncles?” She keeps pushing and the curious sympathy in her voice makes my skin crawl.

  “Can we not do this? I just wanna hold you and fall asleep.” I wrap myself around her, hoping we’re done.

  She fights it, probably biting through her tongue for about three minutes until she can’t take it any longer. “My story was ugly, but at least I told you,” she says through a sigh.

  “Em, this is not one of those ‘please drag it out of me cause deep down I really wanna talk about it’ things, I swear. I simply don’t care. I really don’t. I had a birth mom, she sucked, mostly for meth. When I got big enough to block a few blows and maybe give a few back to her dick of the day, school saw bruises and I landed in foster care. That was my gig ‘til I was eighteen, then I got out, fucked off, met Dane, and here I am.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sawyer.” She tries to roll over but I hold her still.

  We are not doing this. I do not want her to look at me like that right now.

  “Your story wasn’t exactly pretty, babe. Nobody I know has postcard parents, except maybe Evan. Bennett’s aren’t bad either, but other than that? You and I are the norm, not the exception. Everybody’s got their own shit.”

  “You’re right,” she relents, “I won’t ever bring it up again.” She scoots further back against me, pulling my arm around her snugly. “Night, Sawyer.”

  “Night, babe.” I kiss her hair, smelling her girly shampoo. “I love you too.”

  In no time at all, we have eliminated thirty-two pages of the baby name book she bought. There’s not even one option we both like. I’d love to meet the person who made up half those damn names—are they just gunning for kids to get ridiculed? I mean come on, work with me, people!

  Alex is only a nickname, so I’m honestly afraid our baby is going to end up being named “Baby.” Every time I bring up this crucial point, Emmett laughs and says “then we can’t put them in the corner.” I have no idea what that means, but nobody better even think about putting my kid in the corner anyway, lest they want my foot up their ass.

  Much like the crib (if anybody asks), I single-handedly put together the bassinet we got for the bedroom, using every single part in the box! And I hid the breast pump straight away. That thing looks like a medieval torture device and will not be going anywhere near my favorite set of beautiful boobs. I will happily milk her.

  She didn’t like it when I said it, either.

  Overall, things have been great, but I’m restless. Every once in a while, I stop and look around. I find my phone, my keys, my Emmett…nothing’s missing, but it doesn’t help. Something’s off and I can’t shake it.

  “You think I’m just looking for something to go wrong since I’ve never had great?” I kick my shoes up on the edge of Dane’s desk while he stares at his computer screen.

  “Maybe, that sounds like you. I wouldn’t worry until there’s something to worry about, though. You could be me. Laney’s harder to pin down than an angry bear.”

  “I bet.” I chuckle, enjoying his predicament.

  “Seriously,” he runs a hand through his hair, pulling, “I know she’s only twenty, but it’s not like I’m fifty, and I’m ready. I want to take the next step. She wants to plant her feet in cement.”

  “What next step? You mean like married? It’s only been a year, bud.”

  “Bullshit,” he grumbles, banging on the keyboard.

  “Relax, you don’t have to get married tomorrow. You guys got a good thing the way it is, don’t rush it.”

  “Says the man about to have a baby?” He stares at me pointedly.

  “That was all the universe, brother,” I explain, holding my arms out wi
th a flourish. “Fate dealt, I called. What you’re talking about is jumping the gun.”

  “We could have a long engagement.”

  “You could.” I nod, letting my feet fall and sitting up straight. “Maybe ask her to move in? I’ll be leaving the duplex officially real soon.”

  “You’re moving in with Emmett?”

  “Well yeah, douche. Kinda thought I’d live with my fiancé and child. I’m crazy like that.”

  “Fiancé? When the fuck did that happen?”

  “Hasn’t.” I grab a mint from the bowl on his desk and pop it in my mouth, standing. “I’m waiting for my moment. Later.” I head to the door, laughing the whole way. I think it’s hifuckinglarious that the one man always in control, able to make just about anything happen, fell flat on his ass for the most stubborn, independent hellcat of a woman I’ve ever met.

  Hifuckinglarious.

  Chapter 23

  Good Luck Schmuck

  —Emmett—

  It’s Saturday, Halloween in fact, when I really feel it. Not the usual flutterings, but an all-out kick. “Sawyer! Hurry, come here!”

  He rushes in, in his Hugh Hefner costume, full sprint. “Baby, what? What?”

  I grab his hand and place it on my stomach. “He—she kicked. You have to—”

  “Holy shit!” We smile at each other and fall into a fit of giddy, shocked laughter when the baby kicks his hand. Without moving, he goes to his knees. “Happy Halloween, no name.”

  “Ah, no name, how sad.” I frown down at him. “We’re awful parents already.”

  We wait, neither of us moving a muscle, for another kick…that doesn’t come. Halloween night will pack The K, so we’re forced to give up for now and head to work, Sawyer in his velvet robe, me, of course, in a bunny outfit. Guess who won the coin toss to pick our costumes.

  Laney’s not old enough to help work, or even be in the bar, for that matter, but low and behold, she greets us as we walk in, dressed as a referee.

  “It’s not a costume if you had the shit in your closet, Gidge,” Sawyer teases, lifting her off the ground in a hug.

  “Hardy har har. I only had the shoes. And the whistle. You look cute, Emmett.” She tugs on my ear. “Lose a bet to Hugh here?”