Chapter 20 - Charlie
“C ongratulations, you’ve made it to the halfway point. Now, let's look at this baby,” Dr Johnson says, grinning. The explosive sound of the ultrasound gel sputtering onto Mila's round belly causes us all to stare intently; the silent hum of the machine, the only thing that can be heard as we all wait while Dr Johnson moves the transducer across her skin.
“There’s ten fingers and ten toes. Spine looks healthy and their heartbeat is strong. And you're sure you don't want to know the sex?”
“No,” Mila says.
“Yes,” Dante says, at the exact same time, looking at Mila sheepishly. One final attempt for him to know the sex of their baby.
“Okay, so that's sorted then. We’re having a surprise. I’m sorry, there’s no way I'm making a pregnant woman angry at me, especially Mila. You'll just have to wait like everyone else,” he says, patting Dante’s arm. “I know it's of little condolence seeing you've had such a go of it but that's one healthy baby you got there. You're twenty weeks and four days, try to enjoy this moment and how far you've come, sweetheart. You're doing everything right.”
Why is it when old grumpy men get a little bit soft and gooey, it makes me tear up. Mila’s trying not to cry, silently nodding at Dr Johnson and taking in his beautiful words. Dante looks like a proud papa bear, taking in his growing family and all the hurdles they've overcome, and then there's me, the silent observer in the corner watching this intimate moment unfold.
Mila wanted me here in case there was something wrong and she didn't understand the medical talk, but everything is amazing. It's also a bit of a well deserved reward for them to know that despite the hyperemesis, the mountain of medication and the sometimes hourly struggle each day has been, that their little baby is taking what it needs and is getting stronger each day.
“If it's okay, I'm going to slip away now, let you all have a bit of time together,” I say, reaching down to rub Mila's shoulder. Her hand clasps mine and for a moment a sea of words unsaid crosses between us, her eyes overflowing with gratitude before I quietly leave the room.
Leaning against the wall, just outside their room I take satisfaction in how much life has changed since moving to Hidden Valley. Everything we're doing is working. The baby is super healthy, Mila seems to be turning a corner, and her vomiting and nausea appear to be slowing down. I know it's only been a few weeks of Porter and I actually being in a relationship, but I could seriously fall in love with him.
He's my kind of everything.
Soft and kind when it's just the two of us, fucks me senseless almost every night, makes sure I’m eating well, and he even made changes to his apartment to welcome me. Who knew buying another pillow would be so romantic. I shake my head, smiling to myself.
He just seems to be an overall good guy ... minus the whole mafia thing. I checked in with Dimi a couple of times but he insists everything is fine and to quit worrying. Apparently, he's planning on a trip to see me but said it will just be for the day as he prefers to stay a few towns over at a hotel. I called him a snob and said my apartment was perfectly adequate but he's insisting, so I'm going to assume I'll see him whenever he decides to make an appearance.
Large hands envelop mine and I jerk off the wall startled at the unexpected touch, opening my eyes to find a deep chocolate pair looking back at me.
“Porter? What are you doing here?” I ask as he moves his hands to my waist, pressing me into the wall.
“Is everything alright? With the baby I mean? I couldn't get a read on your face when you came out of the room,” he says, practically holding his breath.
The level of concern he's showing only makes me fall for him that much harder. This big, bad, scary, tough guy, is worried over his friend's baby, and worried for me too. His hands rub my waist as he searches my face for answers.
Would I be okay if he never told me about his past?
It's moments like these where I genuinely wonder if this is enough for me, if I can be with a person who only gives me 95% of themselves.
“Everything’s fine. The baby is a great weight and has everything where it's meant to be. They’re all doing great.” I say, smiling at him, comforted by his presence. “Now, are you going to tell me why you're here?” I say, smiling up at him.
I love these moments when he traps me against a wall, the bar, a bench, anything really. The way his body pushes against mine makes me feel so incredibly wanted by him. It's a feeling I’ve never had to navigate before as previous lovers had all been a bit transactional. To the point where I stopped expecting affection like this.
But Porter has this way about him. A light hand grazes my arm while his other firmly grips my waist.
Soft and firm.
It's a way to perfectly describe him. If we're in the same area, he's always touching me. A mixture of this gruff, alpha man who is somehow also charismatic and friendly enough to run a successful bar, and then this dominant man when we’re alone; one that is strong enough in his masculinity to kneel at my feet and worship me. I never would have expected him to be as affectionate as this, and that I would want it, crave it even. I seek out his touch when we’re together and I love that he seems to feel the same way.
“Dante asked me to come and pick you up. He said Mila was having a good day and wanted to take her to the lookout on their way home for a bit.”
Who would have thought that huge lug of man was so freaking romantic. All three of the men are the complete opposite of what you would expect.
Dante, this grumpy mega man mountain, who is so incredibly soft and kind with Mila. Ace, who is so warm and inviting with everyone, but the minute anyone oversteps he can apparently turn into a rabid beast, unleashing the fire of hell upon you.
I almost want to see someone cross him so I can witness it. I can't imagine the level of violence that Dante describes when they talk war stories around us. It’s just not something my mind can comprehend, these kind, loving men being brutal savages when they need to.
And then there's the guy in front of me, the quiet observer. He oozes mystery and seduction, but there is something curious about him too. It pulls you in, wanting to be closer until that little voice in your head tells you to run, get away, danger. I've seen it time and time again, the way people drop their gaze from him or take a subconscious step away when he's near. Even when he's smiling at you there's something people feel that's not quite right. When I look at him, however, he pulls me toward him like a moth to a flame, except I'm begging for him to scorch me. Let everything burn if we’re the only two left standing.
Just the two of us and his secrets.
“That's so sweet of him, Mila will love it. What do you think about picking up some ingredients for dinner and making something for when they get home? Ace and Nova are at the house so we could sort out the accommodation and go over everything for when they leave on their mission next week?”
“That sounds perfect,” he says, giving me a fleeting kiss on my lips, taking my hand and leading me toward the medical centre exit, last night's snowfall slowly melting in the early afternoon sun.
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“Okay, you go pick the steak and potatoes and I'll get the cream and broccoli. Meet you at the checkout in ten minutes,” I say, smiling and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“This is very domestic, baby. I could get used to doing this with you.” A big grin spread across his face.
We’re standing just inside the entrance of the supermarket, the occasional person walking past us as we smile stupidly at each other. The ironic thing about him saying that, is I could get used to it too.
Me, the self declared queen of situationships is getting rather comfortable playing house.
We’re together, but I still haven't called him my boyfriend, and there's not been a time he's needed to introduce me to anyone, so I'll take his lead and wait for him to call me his girlfriend.
I feel like I'm seventeen again with my first crush. He makes me smile and laugh and the sex is earth shattering, but it's little moments like this that I'm starting to enjoy the most. How can a simple task like getting groceries together be romantic?
“Ten minutes,” I repeat, taking a final look at my hunk of man before heading off to the opposite side of the store to get my assigned ingredients.
Working my way back toward the checkout, I've got the cream and just need to get some garlic and chicken stock for the potato gratin, maybe some chocolate for later. Who am I kidding, definitely some chocolate for later.
I may not be the most motivated cook in the world but I do know how to make a few things really well and potato gratin is one of them. Reaching past a man who's hovering awkwardly right next to the seasonings I need to get, I end up bumping his arm a bit causing him to turn, a hiss coming from him as he does. A sorry falling from my lips.
“Tristan? Oh, I didn't recognise you with your hair changed. You've bleached it?” I question.
“Charlie. I didn't see you there.”
His face transforms from a deep scowl to a radiant smile almost instantly. It's a little unnerving how he reacted to me bumping into him. He looked ready to eat me and then a second later he's acting like my best friend.
“It’s been a while since we bumped into each other. We still need to sort a coffee date out. Hopefully in between all the earthquakes we've been having,” I jab, trying to lighten the mood a little.
His smile seems strained, like he's on edge. “Is everything alright? You look a little out of sorts?” I ask.
“I'm sorry, I've just seen a guy I used to know.” He says, his eyes darting all over the aisle. I'm not entirely convinced he's not on some sort of drug or having a psychotic break. “He hurt me and my family really badly and it’s put me into a bit of a spin. I think I'm just going to leave. I’ll be seeing you soon enough anyway.”
An almost grimace-like expression overcomes his face. It's like he knows he should be smiling but his emotions are fighting the urge to let it happen.
“Do you want me to walk out with you? In case you bump into him? My boyfriend is waiting for me at the checkout and we could all go together.”
I can't help but take a deep breath, knowing I used the word boyfriend and not hating the way it sounds. Secure in the idea, that at least for right now, he's mine.
“Ha. No. Bye Charlie, have fun with your boyfriend ,” he says, definitely scowling now. I have no clue how this conversation has turned south so quickly. Ace told him I was taken so I'm not sure why having a boyfriend is suddenly an issue.
Unless … Porter is the person he was talking about.
Tristan practically runs down the aisle away from me, before I can ask him anything further, and I'm left a little dumbfounded over what just happened. He's been so happy and easygoing each time I've bumped into him, but maybe I've read the situation completely wrong. Ace did say there was something off about him.
Heading toward the checkout, I see Porter's face drop from a smile to his cute little angry frown. He has no idea how adorable he looks when he's trying to figure out what's happening. I would argue he's maybe the one guy, other than Dimi that makes me smile when he's angry. I wouldn't even call it angry really. They’re like these cute little toddlers who get frustrated when things don't go their way, except they’re grown men which makes it all the more funnier.
“What's wrong? You came out of the aisle with a look on your face. Did something happen?” he asks, putting the basket of food on the floor and taking my shoulders in both hands, rubbing up and down my arms.
“Nothing, I just bumped into this guy who moved to town recently. The scientist guy, I'm sure I told you about him ... he was saying he saw someone he used to know and I guess things didn't end well. He just seemed a little off is all.”
“Did he do something to you?” he growls, his jaw clenching.
“What? No, it wasn't like that. I can handle myself if I need to, remember,” I say grinning up at him.
“Just because you can handle yourself doesn't mean you should have to. I'll fight to the death for you Charlie. No one will survive the hellfire I'll bring.”
His eyes are so intense, it's almost overwhelming. I want to pull him close and run away all at the same time, but a part of me can't help but want him more and more when he’s like this. Hoping for just a moment he will tell me his secrets and I'll understand where it all comes from.
“Come on you big dork, everything’s alright, you're being dramatic. He was just having a bad moment and it threw me off a little. No need to come out guns blazing, and what even is hellfire anyway,” I say, rolling my eyes at him as I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.
I can't help but go up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, heat in his eyes when he looks at me. “Let's go and celebrate a healthy baby with our friends. Enjoy some good food and some even better company ... and maybe if you’re a good boy I'll give you some dessert later when we're home.”
I desperately want to give in to the idea of a fun night in with friends and their future little bundle of joy, but as I look around the store a final time to see if I can spot Tristan, there's this niggling feeling I just can't shake.