A whirring 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 nearly hypnotic, 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 hesitance he’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.”
Royce squelched the urge to flex and preen as he crossed the room to their dresser. He yanked out a pair of lounge pants from a drawer and pulled them on. Then he climbed onto the bed and accepted the mug Sawyer extended to him. Just that slight brush of fingers was enough to stir trouble below his waistband, but Royce could tamp it down one more time for a wonderful cause. He sipped the brown liquid and recognized it as chamomile. His Aunt Tipsy had sworn it cured anything, but she’d never convinced Royce. He got distracted by the action on the television and ended up taking another sip out of habit. Still not coffee and still not a fan. “When did your rug-cleaning fetish start?”
“I discovered this YouTube channel when I was trying to kill time at the conference. And it’s not a fetish,” Sawyer protested.
“That’s the spot. Oh yeah. Get in there, James.” Royce might’ve injected too much breathiness into his imitation because Sawyer bit his bottom lip and squirmed.
“I didn’t say any of that,” he protested.
“You did. Word for word.”
Sawyer snatched the mug back hard enough to make the liquid slosh over the side. He scowled at Royce like the brown spot on the duvet was his fault. “And I sure as hell didn’t sound like Marilyn Monroe when she serenaded JFK for his birthday.”
“I might’ve embellished, but only slightly.”
The sounds on the television shifted to running water, and Royce turned to see what was happening next. A new camera angle showed a masculine hand spraying the rug with a thick hose. Royce was going to comment on the suggestive nature of the imagery, but the view changed to the water running out of the rug. The screen went black, and Royce scowled at Sawyer, who looked smug as hell with the remote in his hand. Give a guy some power, and look out.
“Hey! You turned it off during the money shot,” Royce complained.
“Do you want to lounge in bed all day or eat breakfast and go make our baby?”
Royce perked up. “Real bacon or the fake stuff?” Sawyer’s commitment to healthier food options was admirable most of the time, but not when it came to breakfast meats. He’d tried to lure Royce over to the dark side, aka turkey bacon or chicken sausage, but Royce had remained faithful to pork.
“The real stuff.” Sawyer winked. “You’ll need the protein boost, and you deserve a special reward.”
Royce probably should’ve protested the bit where Sawyer treated him like a dog who performed a trick or a cat who remembered to bury his poop in the litter box. But the promise of real bacon kept his yap shut.
“I’ve got bacon duties, and you can make the eggs,” Royce said.
“Scrambled or fried?”
They’d had similar conversations many times over the past five years, an easy back-and-forth about food prep and who would do what. They were ordinary tasks, yet the morning felt extraordinary because their lives were about to change. There’d be a third person to consider when making the simplest decisions. A tiny person with big needs who’d rely on them for everything. Royce waited for panic to surge or doubt to surface, but a sense of calm washed over him, and confidence stiffened his resolve.
He reached for Sawyer’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Let’s go with scrambled.”
Sawyer’s lips parted, but no sound escaped. He cleared his throat and tried again. His voice was thick with emotion when he said, “Thank you.”
“For choosing scrambled?” Royce teased.
Sawyer’s brown eyes softened to melted chocolate. “For everything.”
Royce leaned in for a quick kiss and got out of there before he tackled his husband to the bed. He showered in the guest bathroom, where he kept the water cold and his hands moving. Lingering in specific places for too long was tempting fate. “Not long now, buddy.” Consoling his dick in a buck-up-little-camper voice was sinking to a new low, but at least no one was around to witness his shame.
“I heard that,” Sawyer said from the other side of the door.
“You can talk to him later.” When Sawyer didn’t answer, Royce rinsed himself and turned off the shower. “Preferably on your knees,” he murmured. Royce reached around the shower curtain to grab his towel off the rack, but his hand only found air. “What the hell?”
“Looking for this?” Sawyer’s teasing tone had Royce whisking the shower curtain back with more force than necessary. His husband held the fluffy towel in his hand and lifted it like a trophy. Challenge sparked in his dark eyes, daring Royce to come and get it. And oh, how he wanted to, but two could play this game.
Propping his elbow against the shower wall, Royce smirked at Sawyer. “You should’ve just said so if you wanted to see me naked. There was no need to sneak in here all ninja-like.”
Sawyer raked his teeth over his bottom lip as his gaze devoured Royce’s wet, naked body. Dark, hungry eyes snapped up to meet his. A brow arched high, and Sawyer’s expression turned haughty. “Did you say you wanted me to talk to your dick?”
“Yeah, I did,” Royce said. “From your knees.”
Sawyer’s nostrils flared, and his chest expanded with a deep inhale. “We’ll be lucky to limp away from this weekend.”
“Yeah, but we’ll make it hurt so good,” Royce told him.
“I gotta get out of here.” Sawyer abruptly turned and left the bathroom. “Thirty minutes.”
“Hey! Can I have my towel?”
Sawyer reappeared in the doorframe and lobbed it at him. Royce snatched it out of the air but didn’t cover his body. Sawyer took one last look at Royce before emitting a low growl and ducking out of the room. Royce rubbed the towel over his head to wick away the excess water and then moved lower. What did a guy wear to a fertility clinic to donate sperm for a future child? He wanted to present himself as a suitable candidate for fatherhood, but what did that look like? Eddie wore faded jeans, Harley Davidson shirts, and sometimes a leather vest. Barron Key’s idea of casual wear included khaki pants and a pressed polo shirt.
“Twenty-five minutes, Dickhead!” Sawyer called down the hallway. “I’m starting the bacon, and I don’t want to hear any complaints that it’s too chewy or too crispy.”
“You better watch your choice of endearments during our appointment, Asshole,” Royce returned. “They won’t give us a baby.”
“They have no say in the matter. They’re not an adoption agency. We’re paying them to transfer our viable sperm inside Kelsey’s uterus.”
Transferring sounded way more clinical than blasting it in there with a syringe and a tube. “We can’t afford to take chances,” Royce said. “That’s why I can’t figure out what to wear.” He’d put on something similar to Sawyer, but the heat in his husband’s eyes had distracted him from noticing the clothes he’d chosen. “What are you wearing?”
“You just saw me.”
“We’re probably down to twenty-three minutes,” Royce pointed out. “And you know damn well why I didn’t notice your clothes.”
“Jeans, a plain blue T-shirt, and tennis shoes.”
Royce shrugged and grabbed a gray shirt, jeans, and underwear from his drawers and dressed hastily. When he reached the kitchen, Sawyer had breakfast going on the stove. Royce stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s waist. The bacon grease popped in the skillet, and some of it splattered on his arm. He opened the cabinet next to the stove, removed a grease splatter screen, and set it on top of the skillet.
“Can’t believe I forgot that nifty tool,” Sawyer said. “I’m the one who showed you how to use it.”
“You’re just really excited about today and probably running on autopilot.” Royce looked around the room. “Where are the fur children?”
“Off pouting somewhere.” Sawyer stepped aside so Royce could take over the bacon duties while he started on the eggs. “I got stingy with their treats this morning when I noticed how much lighter the bags had gotten in my absence.”
Busted. “But we missed you so much.”
Sawyer’s mouth curved into a wry smile. “That’s what I took Bones’ and Dolly’s pitiful meows and yips to mean.”
“Did it work?”
A dark brow shot upward. “What do you think?”
“I think they’re hiding somewhere and crying,” Royce teased.
“And how did you compensate for your loneliness?”
Royce pursed his lips together so he wouldn’t confess to the number of bear claws he’d eaten while Sawyer was in Denver.
“You had a pastry palooza, didn’t you?” Sawyer pressed. “A gluten gluttony.”
“We only have fifteen minutes before we need to leave to make our baby.” Royce’s deflection was a cheap trick, but a very useful one because Sawyer’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Want to hear about the dream I had last night?” Sawyer asked.
Royce growled and waggled his brows. “Was I there?”
Sawyer leaned in for a quick kiss. “Always.” A wistful expression softened his features. “I dreamed we had a little girl.” He turned and looked at Royce. “And she was a little spitfire, just like you.”
A boulder formed in Royce’s throat. “I would love to have a daughter with you.” Staring into Sawyer’s eyes would cause a burned breakfast and give them a late start to the clinic, so he kept his attention on finishing the bacon. “What did we name her?”
“I didn’t get that far,” Sawyer said. “Maybe one of us said it, but I got swept away by our daughter’s perfection.” He finished the eggs and moved the skillet to the back burner. “Do you want toast, or do you plan on making a breakfast burrito?”
“Burrito,” Royce said as he transferred their perfectly cooked bacon to a plate lined with paper towels.
Sawyer rummaged around in the refrigerator to find the condiments Royce preferred on his burrito. He set the hot sauce, Duke’s mayonnaise, shredded cheese, and sliced jalapenos on the counter. “Your sperm are going to think they’re little Don Juans today.”
Royce cupped Sawyer’s neck and dragged him closer. “And yours are going to think they’re Ted Mullins, always following the rules and paying their credit card bills early.” Sawyer shook with laughter until Royce kissed him hard. “I can’t wait for our Dons and Teds to play together when we get back home.” Sawyer’s breath sounded shaky, and his pulse hammered in his throat. “We’re probably down to twelve minutes now.”
“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 of Gladiators .”
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 their wedding 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 blue eyes 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 go with 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.
They wouldn’t stand down by the business end of the exam table during the procedure, but they would be with Kelsey every step of the way.
“She’ll be in suite five.” Greg gestured in the opposite direction. “End of the hallway on the right.”
“Thanks.” Royce placed his hand on the center of Sawyer’s back and guided him toward the row of private donation rooms. When Sawyer stopped at the first open door, Royce halted, too, instead of continuing past.
“What are—”
Royce nudged Sawyer into a room the size of a coat closet and followed him inside. He shut the door and locked it before crowding his husband against the opposite wall. Sawyer’s mouth curved into a wicked smile, and Royce just had to taste it. He moved in fast but kept the pressure light, more of a tease than anything. He ran the back of his fingers over the front of Sawyer’s pants, tracing the outline of his dick and chuckling softly when it responded.
“This is so inappropriate,” Sawyer whispered against his lips. “But I’ll never forgive you if you stop.” He reached between them and stroked Royce too.
A week had passed since he’d felt Sawyer’s touch. Blood rushed south almost as fast as it had when he was a horny teenager. It had probably been just as long since over-the-clothes groping had revved him up so much. “It’s been so long, and this feels so good.” Royce kissed a path down Sawyer’s neck and then back up to his ear. “Get your dick out and jerk off into that cup. I want to watch.”
“Fuck,” Sawyer whimpered as he fumbled with his belt. “How can you make this so sexy?”
“It’s a gift,” Royce quipped.
Sawyer shoved his pants and underwear down to his upper thighs, and his erection sprang free. Royce moved to the side where he could observe without getting in the way. He double-checked the name on the cup before breaking the seal. Royce gave it to Sawyer, who held it nearby when he took his dick in hand.
“I love your cock even more than my own,” Royce growled huskily. He placed his hand on the small of Sawyer’s back and slid it down to where the tips of his fingers brushed the upper swells of his bare ass. “I can’t wait to feel it buried inside me tonight.” Royce kissed the side of Sawyer’s neck, watching him stroke faster until his jaw tensed and his motions became jerkier. He was so close. “I love you.”
Sawyer gritted his teeth and released into the cup without making a noise. Royce secured the lid and set the container on the little ledge on the opposite side of the wall. Sawyer didn’t bother pulling his pants back up when he turned his full attention to Royce. “You’re going to pay for this.”
“Why am I in trouble? I just wanted to make this less awkward for us.”
Sawyer assumed the assertive role and placed his hand on the center of Royce’s chest. He bunched his shirt and slowly dragged it upward until it exposed his abdomen and pecs. Sawyer brushed his thumb over Royce’s hardened nipple and smiled at the sharp intake of air. “Better get those pants down before it’s too late.”
Royce happily complied, biting his lips to keep from embarrassing himself, and took his cock in hand. His head fell back against the wall, and Royce started to close his eyes until he remembered that his aim counted this time. Sawyer readied the cup, then lowered his head to suck an extended nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck me,” Royce growled.
Sawyer put his mouth to Royce’s ear. “Planning to.” He dropped his hand and squeezed Royce’s ass. “Going to ride this so damn hard tonight.”
Royce’s entire body tensed as pleasure detonated inside him. He moved the cup in place just in time to collect his sample. Sawyer smiled and kissed him as he came down from his high, panting like he’d just completed a marathon. “My legs haven’t felt this shaky since you talked me into riding that massive roller coaster at Cedar Point last summer.”
Sawyer chuckled and took the sperm collection from his shaking hands. He screwed the lid on and set it on the ledge next to his sample. Sawyer kissed Royce and tugged his pants into place. “Will you be able to walk to suite five?”
“Do you think they’ll mind if I stretch out on one of the couches in the waiting room first?”
“Probably so.” Sawyer finished putting Royce back together and kissed him again. “We’ll go home and lounge around the pool. We can have a private season opening before our friends come over tomorrow night.”
“Mmmm. Sounds nice.” A noise outside the room snapped Royce back to reality, and he knew they needed to get going before someone came looking for them. “Feeling sturdier now.”
“Good.” When Royce reached for the doorknob, Sawyer stopped him. “I love you too.”
Most people in their shoes would probably ease the door open, peek outside, and try to hide their naughty behavior. Not him. Royce opened the door and stepped out into the corridor without a care in the world.
Sawyer had his feet firmly planted in the former group. “Is the coast clear?”
“Yep.”
Royce felt downright giddy as they casually strolled to the lab drop-off window, where the technicians didn’t meet their eyes when they accepted the sample. Had they made too much noise and alerted the entire office to their activities?
“Do you think they know what we did?” Sawyer whispered when they walked away.
“Considering where we are and what our roles are, I’m pretty sure they know what we did.”
Sawyer huffed in frustration. “Of course they know we jacked off into a cup, but do you think they know we did it together?”
His mortification was darling. Royce turned his head and quirked a brow. “Do you really care if they did?”
Sawyer chuckled and shook his head. “I should, but I don’t.”
“And with any luck, we won’t need to make a repeat trip to the lab.”
Royce knocked on the door to suite five, and Kelsey called out for them to come in. Sawyer entered the room first, and Royce followed him inside. The examination table was inclined at one end, and Kelsey reclined against it, looking like a regal queen even in a disposable gown with a paper blanket covering her lower half. Royce already knew from a previous visit that stirrups came out of the business end of the table. Kelsey looked from one of them to the other before a wide grin spread across her face. Royce could tell that she wanted to razz them about their newly relaxed state.
“Go ahead,” he said. “You deserve to give us shit after all the blood tests, ultrasounds, and ovulation tracking you’ve had to do.” In comparison, their week of abstaining was minor.
Kelsey covered her mouth and gave in to the giggles. “It’s like a night-and-day difference. You were wound so tight before your trip to the little rooms that the slightest wind would’ve broken you. And now you look like you’ve shared a joint.”
Sawyer snorted and shook his head while Royce held up his forefinger and mouthed, “One room.”
She giggled harder, and Sawyer’s face turned bright red as he stared incredulously at Royce.
“That was a tiny down payment for the things she’s going to endure over the next nine months.” Royce turned to Kelsey. “Anything else you want to know?”
“So many things, but I might not be able to look either of you in the eyes if you tell me,” Kelsey said. As if she and Sawyer didn’t gossip about him and Andrew on a regular basis. Royce was probably the one who should be shy about making eye contact. “You’re feeling confident the intrauterine insemination will take today, huh?”
Dr. Flores had previously said their probability of success was higher than most based on all the test results, but it wasn’t a certainty. Royce looked at Sawyer, who smiled happily. “We are,” he said.
Kelsey extended both hands to them. Royce took the right side of her bed, and Sawyer took the left. “I felt the same way when I woke up this morning. This sense of calmness washed over me, and peace filled my heart. I am so honored to be part of this journey. I love you both.”
Royce’s eyes stung, and he shook his head. “No crying. Not yet.”
They were still laughing and holding hands when Dr. Flores knocked on the door and stepped inside a few minutes later. She greeted them with a warm smile. “Are we ready to do this?”
“We are,” the trio said together.
“The sperm samples are nearly identical in concentration, motility, and morphology,” Dr. Flores said. “I can’t recommend one donor over the other, so this decision comes down to personal choice. Do you know which sample you want my lab to prepare?”
Royce and Sawyer stared into one another’s eyes for what seemed like hours. They’d had this debate many times once they decided to do the insemination process, but they could never agree on who would be the biological father. Royce wanted one thing, and Sawyer wanted another. But suddenly, the answer was just there.
“We do,” Royce and Sawyer said together.