Page 8 of The Paternity Puzzle
“Ten,” Sawyer said as he stared at Royce’s mouth. “One more.”
Royce gave in but was careful to keep a gap between their bodies. He released Sawyer and stepped back. “Time to power up.”
Sawyer laughed and shook his head. “You sound like a cartoon character about to go into battle.”
“It’s going to be survival of the fittest today,” Royce said as he assembled a burrito. “Only the strong can swim upstream and charm the lady eggs, so it’s more like an episode ofGladiators.”
Sawyer scrubbed a hand over his face. “Please don’t narrate the procedure today.”
“Sperm, ready? ‘You will go on my first whistle.’” Royce’s imitation of the show’s host made Sawyer groan. “I had to get it out of my system, and I’ll be on my best behavior now.”
“Famous last words.”
They arrived at the clinic fifteen minutes before their appointment, which in Sawyer’s universe meant they were late. Royce was raised by a selfish man who’d thought the party wouldn’t start until he arrived. Sawyer tried to play it cool, but Royce saw the vein pulsing at his temple.
“I don’t think Kelsey is here yet,” Sawyer said.
“She’ll be here. I would imagine mornings frequently go sideways with Ella.” Royce knew their amazing friend was just as excited about the process as they were. She was the one who’d volunteered to be their egg donor and surrogate on theirwedding day, and she’d never wavered from her commitment. Before Royce could remind Sawyer of that, Kelsey pulled up beside them and parked her car.
Sawyer turned to look at Royce, his eyes wide with excitement and awe. “I’m not dreaming, right? This is really happening.”
Royce took off his seat belt and leaned across the console to kiss him. “Hell yeah, it is.” He pushed the release button on Sawyer’s seat belt too. “Let’s not keep your best girl waiting.”
They got out of their SUV and greeted Kelsey with warm hugs. Unlike them, the former fashion model turned cybercrime fighter had dressed for the special occasion in a knee-length floral ivory dress. Espadrille sandals turned her into a six-foot-tall goddess and showed off her mile-long legs. Kelsey’s dark brown skin shimmered beneath the sun, and she smelled like jasmine and vanilla. She’d piled her hair on top of her head so that the black coils cascaded around to frame her face.
“You always look beautiful, but today, you’re glowing,” Royce said.
“Hydration and moisturizer.” Kelsey pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and winked. “And Black don’t crack. You guys ready to do this?”
Royce and Sawyer locked eyes and smiled.
Kelsey giggled. “Yeah, you are.”
The clinic’s waiting room was more upscale than those in most physicians’ offices. It had comfortable couches, love seats, and club chairs in cheerful pastel colors instead of the dull modular-style chairs Royce was used to seeing. They’d painted the walls a cool, pale gray and placed clusters of lush potted plants throughout the room. There were several magazines on top of the coffee table in front of the couch they’d chosen. Most were of the home and lifestyle variety, but some offered the latest celebrity gossip, and there was a medicine journal that caught Royce’s eye. A handsome, gray-haired man with icy blueeyes and a cocky smirk stared up at him. The caption beneath the photo read: Jean Claude Matisse, a trailblazer in fertility medicine.
Royce wasn’t in the mood to read about celebrities, find a new recipe, or get more gardening ideas. He wouldn’t understand a word written in the medical magazine, so he looked for a different distraction. A large aquarium with colorful fish took up a large portion of the opposite wall, and following a betta fish’s feisty antics settled Royce’s nerves. Beside him, Sawyer anxiously drummed his thumbs against his knees. Royce reached over and took Sawyer’s hand. Tense fingers relaxed as they slid between his, and Royce gave them an assuring squeeze.
“Watch the fish. They’ll calm you down.” Royce figured most patients were anxious about their visits, and he didn’t think the fish were there for purely aesthetic reasons.
“Doubtful,” Sawyer whispered. He stretched his neck to the left and right, cycled through a deep breath, and gave his full attention to the aquarium. After only a minute or two, Sawyer’s breathing returned to normal, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “It’s working. You’re going to want a fancy tank now, and I know nothing about keeping fish alive.”
Royce nudged him with his elbow and tried to keep the smile from his voice when he said, “I hadn’t thought about it until you mentioned it.”
“Crap,” Sawyer mumbled.
“Just kidding. I’m not looking to add to the menagerie.”
A door to the right of the waiting room opened, and a twenty-something guy with auburn hair and light eyes stood in the doorway. “Kelsey,” he called out.
Royce’s mind went blank. They’d gone over the procedure in fine detail during their last visit, but he couldn’t remember a single step. His heart pumped frantically, and blood rushed through his veins at an alarming rate. Were they supposed to gowith her, or would they get called back separately? The answer was somewhere inside his paralyzed brain.
“Hey.” Sawyer’s calm voice penetrated his panic.
Royce blinked and looked at his husband. There was a question in his warm, dark eyes. Sawyer wanted to know if Royce was sure about this. Yes. A thousand percent yes. He nodded, and they stood together to follow Kelsey. The ginger-haired physician’s assistant introduced himself as Greg. Then he handed Royce and Sawyer sterilized sperm collection cups that were labeled with their names and had barcodes on them. Greg directed them to the private rooms and instructed them to turn in the samples to the lab at the end of the hallway once they finished.
“Are you going to attend the procedure with Kelsey?” Greg asked.
“Yes,” Royce and Sawyer said together.