Page 5 of The Paternity Puzzle
Dolly, the Yorkie that had adopted them, jumped off the couch and hurled herself at Sawyer. She released a series of high-pitched barks until he squatted down and picked her up. FaceTime chats with Royce had included the pets, so he’d seen the adorable Americana-themed hair ribbon the groomer had used to keep Dolly’s long bangs out of her eyes. It looked even cuter in person though.
“Evangeline is going to eat you up on Monday.”
She called Dolly and Bones her grandpup and grandkitty and spoiled them rotten, but Sawyer knew she was eager for them to have a baby. And just where was the king of the house? Sawyer called Bones’ name, and the massive gray Maine coon cat strolled out of the hallway.
“There’s my best boy.” Sawyer set Dolly on the ground and picked up Bones. Maybe it was the drastic change between the tiny dog and massive cat, but it felt like Bones had gained weight in his absence. “How many treats have you gone through since Saturday?” Bones responded with a head butt to the chin and a loud purring that rumbled his massive body.
“He missed you,” Royce said. “We all did.”
Sawyer turned and found Royce watching him with a fond smile on his face. “I missed you guys too.” He set Bones down and moved toward Royce but stopped when his husband held up a hand.
“I think we should probably sleep in different beds. I don’t trust myself.”
Sawyer wanted to protest, but Royce looked like he was barely hanging on to his control. “Okay.” He sounded as miserable as Royce looked. “Just one more night.”
Royce closed the gap between them and kissed Sawyer’s lips. “Then I’m taking you to bed, and we’re going to stay there until the pool party on Saturday night.”
Awhirring hum penetrated Royce’s sleep, and he groaned his irritation into the lumpy pillow. Discomfort had kept him awake until two o’clock in the morning, and the rude awakening triggered his brain to play a game called “What hurts the most?” Was it his back from this crappy mattress, his neck from the shitty pillow, or his aching balls from lack of sex? A hot shower could cure two of his ailments, but it would make it harder to ignore the third. Clearly, Sawyer was in an anxious state if he’d dragged the vacuum out already. The machine switched off, and Royce breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could sleep a little longer before he had to get ready for their appointment at the fertility clinic.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the spot.”
Sawyer’s husky morning voice reached him through the wall separating the bedrooms, and he forgot all about his aching back and neck. Blood rushed to his dick as he imagined eliciting those same words from his husband lips. Sawyer’s body would be warm from sleep as Royce kissed a path down his stomach. Strong thighs would part to make room for him and—
“Mmmmm. Yeah, get in there, James,” Sawyer urged.
“Wait a fucking minute.” Royce threw back the covers, stormed to their bedroom, and shoved the door open so hard it crashed against the wall. “Who the hell is James?”
Sawyer was sitting up in bed, propped up against the headboard with a mound of perfect pillows to support his lower back. A smug smile graced his face before he lifted a steaming mug of herbal tea to his lips and took a sip. Caffeine was on the no-no list, and they’d gone longer without that than sex. His husband had adjusted well with a variety of caffeine-free options, while Royce had relied on hot water with lemon slices. Sawyer looked so damn delicious that Royce forgot why he’d charged into their bedroom like it was a SWAT mission.
“Good morning.” Sawyer’s voice was a silky purr that begged Royce to join him between the sheets. “Did you sleep well?”
“Huh?” Royce shook his head to clear the lust fog muddling his thoughts “No, I fucking did not. Do we hate our friends and family?”
Sawyer arched a brow. “Pardon me?”
“That mattress is as hard as a rock, and those pillows provide no support.” Royce placed his hands on his lower back and arched his spine before flexing his neck from side to side. “We need to upgrade the guest room before the baby comes. People will want to help us for the first few weeks, and the least we can do is provide a comfortable place for them to rest.”
“You mean my mom will want to move in,” Sawyer said.
The whirring sound fired back up again before Royce could respond. A wet, brushing sound joined the symphony of noises. He spun around to the television and watched as a carpet-cleaning machine moved over a soapy round rug. A camera panned back to give a broader view of the action, and that’s when Royce noticed the googly eyes affixed to the carpet cleaner. The black pupils bounced and shifted as the machine moved across the screen. The sounds and motions were nearlyhypnotic, and Royce’s breathing evened out as he watched. Then he noticed the name of the machine painted in a script. He turned to face his husband with a quirked brow. “Dirt Reynolds?”
Sawyer grinned from ear to ear. “Isn’t he cute? Sometimes James puts a cowboy hat on him.”
“It’s creative, for sure.” Royce looked at the TV again. “I assume James is the person wearing the white rubber boots and pushing Dirt Reynolds around.”
“Yep.”
“Is this a new kink?” Royce asked.
Sawyer laughed, bringing Royce’s full attention to his husband’s naked torso. “The hum of the machine and the back-and-forth action is relaxing. I’m not the only one who thinks so. This video has millions of views.”
There was no denying the video’s effect on Sawyer. His guy was a go-getter. He didn’t lounge in bed and drink hot beverages unless they were on vacation, and Sawyer only sounded this relaxed after sex. They were kicking off a four-day weekend, so that might’ve contributed to the lounging, but it didn’t explain why Sawyer sounded so chill. His husband wouldn’t have taken so much as an herbal supplement to reduce his innate restlessness with his sperm donation looming. And then the source of Sawyer’s contentedness became crystal clear. “We’re making a baby today,” Royce said.
Sawyer’s answering smile was the most beautiful thing Royce had ever seen. “Yes, we are.”
Up to this point, they’d used different terms to describe the process. They were going to try for a baby. They were hoping to have a baby. Royce’s inner dialogue had included the same gentle optimism, and he was sure Sawyer was just as cautious. Try. Hope. But something had shifted overnight, and cautiousness had given way to certainty. Whatever hesitancehe’d harbored over donating a sample had also evaporated. Royce would do anything to keep that smile on his husband’s face, though he still hoped Sawyer’s sperm would come out the victor.
“As long as you put some clothes on or leave the room,” Sawyer said. “Damn, you are one sexy man.”