by Layla Silver
“Isn’t it awesome, Aunt Mai?”
“It was wonderful,” I assured them, grinning as they clambered around the phone, their faces smooshing together as they each tried to get closest to the screen. Cedar smacked a kiss against the screen, leaving a smear of jam, and I made a mental note to upgrade my phone case before having twins.
Listening to them talk over one another, I felt something deep inside me warm and settle. In a few years, it could be Will holding the phone and my children inventing music and making me laugh. Maybe it wouldn’t be coming about the way I’d always been led to expect, but it would be wonderful all the same.
When I hung up with Lea, my thumb hovered over the screen. Spontaneously, I opened up a text to Will. Want to drive to Thursday’s appointment together?
The reply came back almost instantly. Yes. Breakfast first? We can go to Dilly’s. My treat.
Dilly’s was too good an offer to pass up. My mouth watered just thinking about their deluxe breakfast sandwiches. Deal, I texted back.
Will sent back a thumbs-up emoji and the words, I’ll pick you up at 9.
Pleased, I put down my phone and reached for the last of my fries.
***
Thursday’s drive into the clinic was completely different from our last one. The air between us had rippled with bright, anticipatory energy as we ate breakfast. Given the public setting and the likelihood of running into people we knew, we’d steered the conversation in general directions.
As soon as we slid into his car, however, Will opened with, “How do you feel about private schools?”
“Private school?” I repeated, raising my eyebrows as he skillfully maneuvered us out of the busy parking lot. “You’re thinking about schools already? We don’t even know for sure the bloodwork had come back as compatible.”
“But if it is,” he insisted. “How do you feel about it?”
“I’ve never thought about it,” I said, honestly. “You know I got a mish-mash. Public school when my mother liked the administrators, homeschooling when she didn’t. Most of my nieces and nephews are in public school or too young for school at all. I don’t know anything about private schools.” I leaned back and eyed him with interest. “You went to private school, right?”
“Start to finish,” he confirmed, gunning the engine a little as we hit the highway, and traffic opened up. The Audi’s engine gave a throaty roar, and I laughed. He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It just occurred to me you’ll have to get a new car. Unless you think you can put a car seat where I’m sitting. Actually, you’ll have to get one anyway if you ever want to babysit and have them both at the same time.”
Will grinned and lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to buy a Hummer.”
“Will!” I admonished. “You do not need a Hummer to drive two babies around.”
“I’ll get armored,” he said, his face getting that expression it always did when he was doing calculations in his head. “Make it the safest thing on the road. I should get one for you, too. What color do you want?”
I snorted. “I am not driving a Hummer. You know full well my brothers would ‘borrow’ it ‘for business purposes.’” I formed air quotes around the phrase, and Will chuckled. “And bring it back caked in mud. Probably leave it out in the sun until it bakes into a hard coating. I’d have to chisel my way in. So, no thanks.”
“Fine,” Will said, smiling again. “I’ll buy you something else. What do you want? A Jeep? A Range Rover?” His expression went pensive again. “I’ll have to check safety ratings. Maybe get some custom work done.”
“You don’t have to buy me a vehicle,” I pointed out, amused. “Mine is perfectly serviceable, and I know it fits a couple of car seats already. And,” I added when he opened his mouth, “it has an excellent safety rating.”
Will shut his mouth. Then opened it again. “Your house might need some work. That stairwell is a death trap. And you’ll need child locks on the doors. I can sketch out the changes for you.”
“Will,” I shook my head. “I have kids at my house all the time. I know how to use baby gates and stuff to keep them safe.” I cocked my head. “Are you really that worried?”
Will’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, and he took a minute to answer. “I’m a dragon, Maia. Hatchlings are a lot rarer than pups.” He shot me a glance, then looked back at the road, smoothly switching lanes. “My parents getting Elton and me within a few decades of one another was a big deal. If you give me two hatchlings—or a hatchling and a pup, or whatever,” he waved a hand, “I’m going to take to care of them.”
“Like treasure,” I murmured, softly, touched. Coyotes were good breeders. We loved our offspring, but we tended to take for granted that we could have them whenever we wanted. They were normal. It hadn’t occurred to me that our babies, if we could have them, would be a rare thing in Will’s world.
“Like treasure,” Will agreed. A thoughtful silence fell between us for a few minutes.
“All right,” I said, finally. “Tell me about private school, then. And how you’d redesign my house.” I wasn’t sure either was really necessary, but they’d be Will’s babies, too. Whatever was important to him, I could at least consider it.
The conversation that followed was lively and gave me a lot to think about. We were still discussing the merits of international immersion experiences as part of a high school curriculum when we walked into the agency. The receptionist handed us off to Elton, who weighed in briefly as he escorted us back to an office on the first floor. He gave us a cheery thumbs up on one hand and crossed his fingers hopefully on the other before disappearing.
He and Corey will make perfect uncles, I thought as Will let me precede him into the office, and we took up chairs in front of a massive, L-shaped desk in a comfortable office.
Dr. Carlton wasn’t the same physician we’d seen on our first visit, but I liked her immediately. She had a competent, professional air about her that quickly set me at ease, and anyone who could keep up with Will’s wit was worth knowing. Even still, I couldn’t quite keep all the butterflies out of my stomach as she pulled up our initial test results. If we weren’t compatible, all our dreams could end here. Will rested his hands gracefully on the armrests of his chair, but I could see his knuckles go white as he pressed his fingers into the wood to keep his fingers from drumming. He was as nervous as I was.
“I must say,” Dr. Carlton commented, turning away from the computer and peering at us over the rims of her tasteful glasses, “I’ve been in this business for a long time, and I’ve never seen bloodwork this well-matched. It’s particularly interesting since you matched yourselves and, of course, you’re from different shifter species. Quite rare all around, really.”
“But we are a match?” Will said, leaning forward a little in his excitement. “So, we can move forward?”
“Oh, yes,” the doctor assured him. “In fact, the bloodwork suggests you’re a perfect pairing for twins, which I understand you’re interested in.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. Beside me, Will almost glowed with delight. “How long do we have to wait before we can get started?”
“A few minutes.” Dr. Carlton smiled and started moving papers around on her desk. “I’ve got some things for you to sign and some legal paperwork I’m required to review with you first.”
I shot a glance at Will. We could start today? I … hadn’t expected that.
Will raised his eyebrows hopefully. I shook my head, feigning exasperation but kicked his ankle lightly to let him know I was kidding. He grinned, and then the doctor was talking, and we both focused our attention on the paperwork.
Twenty minutes later, Elton was back to escort me up to Legal. I’d come up with more questions about the paperwork end of the process, and Dr. Carlton felt they’d be best answered upstairs.
“My brilliant Maia.” Will pecked a kiss to my temple as we stood from our
chairs. “Always asking the tough questions.”
“I have to do something while you’re busy,” I said, primly, stressing the last word and giving him a coy look.
“Right,” he said, winking at me. “Speaking of, I better go get busy before I hold up the show.”
Snorting, I waved him off and followed Elton toward the elevator. As we walked, I tried very hard not to think about the fact that Will was headed to a nice little room where he’d be jerking himself off to create semen that was going to end up inside of me. The idea was just a little … strange? Bizarre? Uncomfortable?
No, I decided. It would be weirder and more uncomfortable if he thought of someone else while creating what we needed to make the babies we would share. Which meant he probably was thinking about me. That thought sent shivers of longing and nervousness up my spine. He wasn’t really interested in me, not as more than a friend. So how would his mind twist things to create a pleasant fantasy?
Would he imagine, like I did sometimes, that we were different people? That I was someone glamorous and mysterious? That I was an alluring stranger he picked up in a club for a one-night stand? How would he imagine us together?
My cheeks flushed as I remembered some of the more erotic dreams I’d had on that point. A particularly vivid one of Will hitching my skirt to my waist and taking me hard and fast against a wall in a dark corner of the club flooded my mind. Goddess, what if he was imagining that exact scenario as he stroked himself in one of the agency’s donation rooms?
Elton coughed slightly, and my entire body went pink with heat. I shot a mortified glance in his direction.
“It’s a little weird, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling at me shyly. He was blushing slightly, too, and I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
“Yeah,” I agreed, tongue-tied in my embarrassment. Get it together, Maia. Squaring my shoulders, I said determinedly, “It is. Which is why I’m not going to think about it. Tell me about who I’m meeting with in Legal.”
Chapter 8 – Will
Skimming over the email I’d drafted, I verified that all the right attachments were included and in order. Then I hit send. Closing out a half a dozen files, I tabbed over to my digital to-do list and crossed off the project I’d just completed. I leaned back and stretched, wincing a little as several joints popped. I’d been sitting still too long. Time for a little movement. I got to my feet just in time for my phone to trill.
It was a very distinctive woodwind flute sound, and I snatched my phone up immediately. That was the alert I’d put on calls and texts coming in from the surrogacy agency. My phone showed a new text message. Thumbing the app open, I felt electricity shoot through me, my whole body tingling straight out to my fingers and toes.
Good afternoon, Mr. Kent. This text is to notify you that the latest blood work has come back. Your surrogate is confirmed pregnant with twins. Surrogate and baby health are within ideal ranges. If you have any questions or concerns, please log in to your online account or call the agency.
Energy amped up inside me, and I started to pace, unable to be still. Maia was pregnant. With twins. Our twins. She was pregnant and healthy, and we were really doing this! I had to celebrate. We needed to celebrate. Maia and I always celebrated each other’s wins together, and this was a win for us both. I needed to do something special.
I glanced at the clock. Maia was still at work and would be for a few hours. I could get flowers and take her to dinner. We’d order champagne and—no, no champagne. We’d need non-alcoholic beverages only now. Damn. Well, we could still go to dinner … or eat in. If we ate in, I could show her my plans for the house. Maybe we could start working on plans for putting a nursery in her place. That was promising, and I latched onto it.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Maia.
Did you see the news from the agency?
Unable to stop myself from smiling, I typed back. YES. We should have dinner to celebrate. My place.
Deal, she texted back immediately. Need me to bring anything?
Just you, I assured her. I had everything else under control. Better than under control. I was going to make it perfect.
Three hours later, Maia was at my door. She was still wearing her work clothes, but she’d pulled the clip from her hair, letting it spill around her shoulders in loose, messy waves.
I swept her off her feet and spun her around. “We’re having twins!”
“I know!” She laughed, her face pink and her eyes bright as a summer sky when I finally set her down. “It’s crazy! We are crazy.”
“Crazy happy,” I corrected, beaming. “Come on, let me feed you.”
“Mmm, no complaints here,” she agreed, following me toward my lavish kitchen. “I’m sure I can’t blame it on the babies yet, but I’m starving.”
“Well, then,” I said, pleased. “Allow me to be your knight in shining armor.” I swept my arm out grandly, showing off the veritable feast I’d ordered and spread out on the broad granite countertop. “I have cider—since champagne is off the table, of course—and steak, and truffled potatoes. I think there’s something green, too. Some kind of vegetable.” Neither of us was particularly keen on vegetables, being carnivore shifters, but I had a somewhat hazy idea that she’d probably have to eat at least a few here and there for the sake of the babies. Or at least to satisfy her doctors.
“You are the best.” As comfortable in my house as she was in her own, Maia grabbed a plate and started piling it with crispy, aromatic truffled potatoes.
I remembered with amusement how startled she’d been the first time she’d been over and discovered that I used vintage china as my everyday ware. She’d been terrified of breaking it, and a little disconcerted by the formality. Now she just accepted it as a dragon-ly quirk and breezed on. I watched her tuck a renegade strand of hair behind one ear, then scoop potatoes onto her plate. The dark fabric of her top set off her creamy skin and light hair. She was casually stunning, and I found myself unexpectedly hoping that our hatchling would be a girl with her mother’s beauty.
I realized I was staring and turned quickly, reaching to grab crystal wine glasses from the overhead rack. Keeping my back to Maia while I regained control of my wayward thoughts, I popped open a bottle and poured fizzy cider for us both. I filled a bucket with ice, stuck the bottle in it, and carried it to the long mahogany table that dominated my dining room. Then, feeling slightly more in control, I collected my own plate and filled it while Maia grabbed silverware for each of us.
Leaving my plate at my own seat, I pulled out Maia’s chair for her. Her lips curved in an amused half-smile as she let me push it back in once she’d sat, and I had the sharp desire to kiss her. Ruthlessly stuffing it down, I stalked toward the concealed sound system and summoned up a lovely and elegant instrumental soundtrack. The melodic, evocative notes of violins drifted through the air around us as I returned to the table and took my seat as if this were a perfectly normal dinner and my body wasn’t startlingly aware of Maia’s every move.
What was wrong with me? Digging into the food, I tried to properly savor it. It was from Mac’s, one of our favorite restaurants, and every bite was heavenly. The steak was succulent and perfectly cooked, the potatoes crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside. The cider had just the right amount of crisp sweetness. It was a surfeit of flavor and decadence that should have had my dragon sense dancing. I did enjoy it but, I realized with a jolt, even over its richness, I could smell Maia.
Oh, gods. Pregnancy enhanced hormones, and most shifters were keenly aware when another shifter near them was carrying young. Maia was pregnant with my twins, and my stomach sank. I was scenting myself on her, I realized. Beneath the level of conscious awareness, my body knew that Maia was marked as mine by the children she carried, and every part of me responded.
Shit. She was only just pregnant, which meant this was only going to get worse.
A distraction, I thought, desperately. I needed to distract us both—me, before
I did something stupid, and Maia before she noticed something was wrong and asked.
“We should make this a habit,” I said impulsively, swirling a potato through the thick, tangy sauce that had come with them. “Dinner, I mean.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. Having dinner with her more often would accentuate the problem, not mitigate it.
“We have dinner together all the time,” Maia pointed out reasonably, taking another bite of her steak.
“I mean here,” I clarified. “With the babies, like a family dinner thing.”
“Hmmm,” she considered that, her forehead scrunching adorably as she thought. “I hadn’t thought about that. We could. We’ll have to completely redo our routines anyway.”
“Mine are pretty flexible,” I reminded her with a shrug. “They’ll have to get less flexible probably,” I mused, not quite distracted from my aroused awareness of her but trying. “At least at first. Babies need structure, right?”
Maia laughed. The sound was warm and did nothing to help my attempts at not wanting her. “Will, when is the last time you had a baby in your life?”
“My parents’ friends have kids!” I said, pretending indignation. “And Elton used to be a baby.”
“Decades ago!” Maia shook her head, grinning. “We should get some books.”
“What do you need books for?” I bantered back, already pulling out my phone. “You’ve got favored Aunt status already. You know everything about kids.”
“Not about twins,” she countered. “They’re a whole new world.”
It took me a few tries to find the right search terms, but within minutes, I had a dozen books coming for us on babies, child-rearing, and twins.
