Thirty
Porter
I pulled my head back from her kiss and stared down at my little minx. I still had my hand on her ass and I was itching to slap it. But ecstasy quickly turned to worry.
“Are you okay? You said you were okay.”
Asher, my beautiful, beautiful brat, just laughed, shaking her head. She rolled to her back and I had to stifle my groan as my dick slipped from her.
She put her hands on her belly and looked over at me. “I’m fine. The babies are fine. But because I had a decent bout of HG and because there are two, she wants to keep a closer eye on me. She doesn’t think I’m a super high-risk pregnancy, but—”
I pushed up to sit. “High-risk? What does that mean?” My heart began to pound behind my chest. That didn’t sound good. Why the hell was she laughing at me?
“I’m not high-risk, Porter. Not in a dangerous way. Listen to me.” She pushed up to sit and reached for my hand. “She just wants to play everything safe and I can’t really say I disagree with her. She gave me a cut-off day of twenty-five weeks. So, get your lovin’ in while you can.”
She was such a smartass.
But damn if I didn’t love her for it.
“So, you’re okay?”
“Yes, Porter. I’m okay.” Her tone was teasingly placid, but I would stop at nothing to be sure she remained okay, with me and with these babies.
We had been through too much already.
Still, though, I worried. And sometimes that worry led to morbid thoughts.
I hated that my ring wasn’t on her finger, and part of me struggled with when to ask her again. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. I knew we were completely a team now; there were no doubts about that.
I worried about the babies.
I worried about the season.
I worried about the fact that even though Ace assured me at the beginning of the season there was talk about re-upping my contract, nothing had been mentioned in that last few months.
And then I worried about the babies again.
Two babies.
At the same time.
We were in so far over our heads, but there was no looking back now. We were in it, so what did it matter if I gave her back her ring now, or six months from now?
I fought to calm my worries, and attempted to do it by going light with our conversation. “So, you’re giving me the green light to keep you awake all night?”
Her smile was quick and full. “Just go play hockey and we’ll discuss when you get home.”
Home.
Yes, home. This was home. She was home. These babies, they were home.
And tonight…tonight, I’d ask her again.
I leaned into kiss her gently, fighting to keep it light because I had to leave. “I love you, you know,” I said against her lips. I’d never tire of telling her. I pushed off the bed and started picking up clothes, putting Asher’s on the bed before stepping back into mine.
“Do you want me to pick up lunch?”
Asher just continued to lay there, all in her naked glory, as she watched me. “Sure. Nothing too heavy.”
I lifted a brow. “Your stomach—”
Asher laughed, the sound gleeful, and her belly and chest bounced with it. “Jesus, Porter. I’m fine.” She pushed up to sit, reaching for her pants. “God, I love you, but sometimes, Porter…”
I couldn’t help but worry about her. It was as deeply engrained in me as every other emotion I had for her, for my family. When her face twisted, I didn’t even take a moment to try and figure out what the look was. I dropped my shirt and forgot buttoning my jeans, moving to sit on the bed beside her.
“What is it?”
“You can… You should be able to…”
“What, Asher!” Her partial sentences were killing me. I reached for her face to try and read her, but suddenly she was smiling again, and I was about ready to die from the whiplash of emotions.
She grabbed my hand and pressed firmly into the side of her belly. “Wait for it.”
I frowned, but within seconds I felt it. The slightest of pushes from the inside.
“That’s not gas?” I asked, my eyes flying up to hers.
I could see that she wanted to laugh at me, but she just shook her head. “Nope. That’s Baby A.”
Now I grinned, trying to focus on what was going on inside Asher’s belly. Would I feel another? I put my other hand to the opposite side, hoping that maybe Baby B would want to be noticed too, but nothing happened.
“They need names.”
“That would require us finding out what they are,” she pointed out.
I leaned in to press two kisses to her belly, before reluctantly moving to finish getting dressed.
“I guess.”
The look on my face had Asher laughing again, but she covered it up by pulling her shirt on. “Just go play hockey and come back whole, and we can talk about it then.”
***
No sooner than I pulled into the rink, my phone was pinging with an incoming text.
I found a parking spot in the garage before opening it up.
Ace: I’m sorry. But you’ll be thanking me in a few months’ time.
What the hell?
Confused, I punched out a reply, asking her what she meant, but an answer didn’t come.
Putting it in the back of my head, I moved through the garage and the double doors leading to the locker room. This wasn’t my first time back on the ice, but it was the first time I was given the medical okay to go all-out with practice.
The excitement running through my body rivaled the same excitement I felt during my very first peewee competition, the first Stanley Cup series game, the game winning goal…
The day I held Asher to my chest as test after test came back showing she was pregnant.
Even though I’d been a presence in the locker room the last many weeks, today, walking into the locker room, was completely different.
“What’s up, my ma-a-a-a-an!” Nico hollered the moment I stepped across the threshold.
…Right before a jockstrap was thrown in my face.
“That shit’s nasty,” I chuckled, making a face as I tried to dislodge it from my shoulder without touching it.
Who knew…fuck that, I knew exactly where that shit had been.
“Portsy’s back, guys!” Nico yelled, throwing his arm around my shoulder.
These assholes were being obnoxious but shit, I missed this.
I was ready to get back what was mine.
My game.
My team.
The other half of my joy.
***
“Prescott. Office,” Coach said, after dismissing practice. I was going to be sore later, but everything felt to be in complete working order. The new brace I had for playing was definitely going to give me its money’s worth.
I’d have to order another one.
I went into the locker room to change from my practice gear back into street clothes. Some of the guys were still on the ice, some in the showers. I knew Coach didn’t like waiting though, so I didn’t bother with the extras, just changed and grabbed my bag before heading to the office.
Dropping my bag outside the door, I stepped in. “Yeah, Coach?”
“Close the door.”
Well that didn’t sound promising…
I shut the door and Coach pulled up a video call, and soon, the team’s GM was on the screen.
Fuck.
No.
The manager and Coach wanting to talk to you was never good.
Shit.
I had babies on the way. A house. A dog.
Avery’s mysterious message made sense now.
Shit!
“You’re trading me.”
There was no sense bullshitting and beating around the bush.
“I’m sorry,” the GM said through the monitor. “The deadline is coming up, and we need to be sure we have another Stanley Cup team. With your injury…there’s not much room for consideration.”
“I was on the ice today. Tell him, Coach.” I turned to look at him, even though I knew once the trade went through, it went through. Nothing I said would change the inevitable.
“I just bought a house. My agent was under the impression my contract was being renewed.”
“It was. It was, Porter, but with your injury…it’s business. I’m sorry.”
“Asher’s pregnant!” My words were directed to Coach again, and he had the audacity to look down at his desk, not even giving me his attention.
Depending on where I was traded, I’d have to fly and if she couldn’t have sex, Asher sure as fuck couldn’t fly. And I sure as shit wasn’t having her drive herself.
“You’re suiting up for the team tonight.”
Shit. I had to call Asher. I had to talk to her and make plans and…
“Where?” I asked, even though I had the smallest of inklings that I knew.
You’ll be thanking me in a few months’ time.
“San Diego.”