Chapter 10
The bright sunlight seeping through the blind slats shines against my closed eyelids, coaxing me awake. I try to move, but I’m sandwiched between two mouth breathers. Carson’s burrowed so close against me that he’s drooling on my collarbone. Adam is spooning from behind, his heavy hand resting on my hip, the firm wall of his muscular chest lining my back, and his feet intertwined with mine. I’m sweltering, but I dare not move because despite the impending heat stroke, I don’t want this moment to end.
I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling so content. Like I could waste an entire day just lying next to these two on this slowly deflating blow-up mattress. If nothing else, it’s validation that my desire to be a mom isn’t going anywhere. It’s not a passing fancy or an evasive tactic to avoid my job burnout. I want this. I want to wake up sweating, smothered in baby drool, maybe even next to a guy who uses me as a human body pillow because this is real, raw, and wonderful in all the right ways.
A loud ring coming from Adam’s phoneinterrupts the serene moment of playing make-believe with my pretend family. Carson’s big eyes shoot wide open, his crooked little smile following. Simultaneously, Adam removes his hand from my body and throws his hips backward so his morning wood is no longer pressed against my back.
“Shoot,” he mutters.
I untangle myself from Carson and spin around, making everyone jostle about like we’re lying on jello. Watching Adam’s sleepy eyes, I whisper, “There’s nothing to hide. Your partial’s been buried into my back for hours now.” I flash him a sassy, wicked smile. “Very impressive, by the way.”
He rolls his eyes, but his cheeks don’t turn red like mine do when I’m embarrassed. “Good morning, Amani,” he mumbles before scooting to the edge of the bed and standing. Unfortunately, it was the pressure of all of our weight localized in the middle of the mattress keeping it somewhat intact. Once Adam rises, the bed slumps and poor Carson goes rolling off the side, hitting the ground with a heavy thump.
“Shit. Sorry, buddy,” Adam says. I reach for Carson, but Adam’s faster, rushing to the other side of the bed to scoop up a crying Carson. I sink further into the mattress as he scours the floppy bed and scowls. “What is wrong with this thing?”
“I’m convinced there’s a tiny hole somewhere, but I can’t find it. I just have to pump it back up once a night.” I shrug. “It’s fine.”
“It’s crazy,” Adam replies. “You should toss it and buy a real bed.”
“And what do I do with a real bed when I leave in a couple of months? I’m not strapping a mattress on top of my car and driving it across the country.”
“Based on the current condition of your car, you’re not driving it anywhere. Period.”
Fuck. Yet another problem to solve. I can barely afford Mom’s treatment as it is. IVF is going to cost a huge chunk of money I don’t have. Not to mention it’s not a guarantee. And even if I did get pregnant, it’d probably be a good idea to have reliable transportation to bring the baby home. Come to think of it, when I get back to Denver, I’ll also need a home. Okay, shit. There’s only one solution here. I need more money.
Adam’s phone rings again, and he sets a blotchy-cheeked Carson down on his two feet before finding his phone on the kitchen counter. Carson immediately lunges into me, trying to tackle me backward into the mattress.
“Look at you giggling now,” I say, tickling behind his ear. “Those were crocodile tears, huh?”
“Croc-tile,” Carson repeats. His eyes light up at the mention of one of his favorite words.
“Craw-co-dial,” I sound out for him slowly. Jonah, Noa’s son, used to call crocodiles “Coco-Dials.” He was well past Carson’s age before he could say it properly. It broke my heart the day I heard Jonah say crocodile with perfect pronunciation, knowing the baby years were behind us. Jonah was the first baby I watched grow up. I was there the day he was born, the day he finally left the hospital after weeks of preemie care, his first words, his first birthday. Really, I should blame Noa and Jonah for my baby fever. They planted the seed years ago.
“Alex is on his way up. His appointment canceled,” Adam says, setting his phone back down and rummaging through the cabinets before opening the pantry door. “Do you have coffee here? I thought you said you picked up a few groceries before the move.”
“I did. Crunchberries, Sour Cream and Onion chips, juice boxes, Pop-Tarts, and milk.”
His brows furrow. “That’s what you live off of? That’s the grocery list of a broke college kid with the munchies.”
“Excuse me,” I say while scowling. “I know how to eat like an adult. My diet was very boring and healthy to help my chances with IUI. Now that I’m on a short break, I’m being rebellious. Sue me.”
“Healthy doesn’t have to be boring. Maybe we can all go to breakfast when Alex gets here. There’s a brunch place close by I bet you’d love,” he says, leaning back against the kitchen island facing me.
“You’re determined to educate me on fine dining, aren’t you?”
He laughs. “Perhaps, but not necessarily on fine dining, just good food. The best steak I’ve ever had in my life was from a food truck during a summer festival in Long Beach. I shit you not. I like exploring. Life’s too short for In-N-Out Burger.”
Feigning offense, I say, “In-N-Out Burger is a major food group. Top of the pyramid, my friend.”
“Dear Lord,” he says with a soft chuckle. “We have a lot of work to do.”
There’s a lull as I linger on his smooth, muscular chest, contracting and relaxing as he laughs. My eyes drop to the deep divots of his abs. I would’ve never guessed Adam was so in shape. His business suits certainly hide his sexy physique. He must notice me devouring him with my eyes because suddenly he makes a beeline to his crumpled shirt on the ground.
“Sorry,” I mutter, diverting my attention to Carson, who is still curled up in my lap.
Adam yanks his shirt over his head, pushing his arms through the sleeves one by one. “Don’t be. I just don’t want to give Alex the wrong impression.”
Right on cue, there’s a soft knock on the door and Adam turns to answer it.
“What wrong impression?” I ask.
“Like something happened between us last night,” he says over his shoulder.
I mean, we cuddled. That’s not sex, but it’s still something, right?
“Hey,” Adam says, greeting Alex at the door. “Come in. Everyone is up.”
I chuckle as Alex ruffles Adam’s hair with playful condescension, the way big brothers do, followed by Adam smacking his arm away. Maybe one baby isn’t enough. Maybe I need at least two. Adam loves his nephew like he’s his own. I want my family to be like that one day.
“Hey, bubba,” Alex singsongs as he makes his way over to me and Carson, still sitting on the mattress. “Did you miss Daddy?” Alex reaches out with both arms for his son.
Carson replies by burying his head into my chest and wrapping all of his little limbs around me, squeezing as hard as he can, refusing to let go. “No,” he cries into my chest. “No go. No go.”
Alex sucks in his lips and nods. “Well, that feels good. Just how every dad wants to be greeted.”
Adam laughs. “At least you know your son was well taken care of.”
“We did have fun,” I grunt out as I strain to unlatch Carson’s arms from around my neck. “Don’t you want to give Daddy a hug?” I ask him.
“No, no, no,” he whines and refastens his arms around my neck. Even tighter this time.
I shrug. “Sorry, this is my baby now. He made his choice,” I tease.
Alex scoffs. “Watch this. Carson, want to go get donuts?”
Carson releases me so fast that he falls backward onto the mattress. He scrambles furiously, looking like a beetle stuck on its back before he rolls off the mattress and leaps into Alex’s arms, planting kisses all over his face.
Adam’s laughing hard now. “I should’ve warned you. Carson is very easily bought with donuts.”
“Apparently,” I reply.
“But actually, maybe hold off on the donuts,” Adam says to Alex. “I was going to take Amani to Lucky’s for brunch. Do you guys want to come?”
“Wish I could,” Alex says, rising with Carson in his arms. “But I have to meet Tara’s parents to put down the deposit on this little guy’s over-the-top birthday party.”
“How’s that going?” Adam asks.
“Oh fantastic,” he says, full of sarcasm. “There’s nothing ridiculous about dropping over fifty thousand dollars for a toddler’s birthday party at Disneyland. He’s not even going to remember this party.”
“I said I’d pitch in,” Adam says. “Let me cover everyone’s park tickets. My gift to Carson.”
Alex shakes his head. “It has to be from me. This whole thing isn’t really for Carson… It’s for Tara.”
Adam turns his attention to me as I rise to my feet, my back aching in protest from sleeping all night on an unsturdy mattress. “Tara is Carson’s mom.”
“I remember,” I say. “You guys mentioned her yesterday. Pretty name.”
“Well, for context, Alex is hopelessly in love with the mother of his child, who refuses to be with him, and he thinks treating her entire extended family to a Disneyland vacation is the best way to show her how he feels and win her over.” Adam smirks. “But his grand gesture is getting a little expensive.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “That is not why—”
“Ow,” I yelp, interrupting Alex. In an attempt to ease the ache on my back, I stretched my arms overhead, causing the underwire of my bra to dig into my surgical scar on my troublesome side. The pain was sharp; now it’s throbbing.
Both Alex and Adam look alarmed.
“Are you okay?” Alex asks.
A lightbulb goes off in my head when I remember Alex’s profession. “Actually, may I ask you a medical question?”
He nods. “Sure.”
“I had a breast augmentation a long time ago and the incision scar is just now starting to hurt. Is that a bad sign? Do I need to be worried?” The last thing I need is another major medical expense. My insurance is dicey at best.
Alex’s brows furrow in concern. “Have you had any fevers? Body aches?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Just one side?”
“Yeah,” I say, tapping the top of my left breast. “This one is fine.”
“Are you prone to keloid scarring?”
“What?” I ask.
“Is your scar raised, larger, or darker on the side that hurts?”
I shrug. “I guess? I’m not sure.”
“Keloid scars can develop over years. It could be that your scar tissue is sensitive. You could try hydrocortisone treatment to reduce the inflammation and help with appearance, but the first order of business is making sure there’s no infection.”
“How do I make sure of that?”
After setting Carson down and moving to the sink, Alex lifts the faucet handle and proceeds to wash his hands. The citrus scent of my grapefruit dish soap wafts around the room.
“I’ll check for you,” he says over the hum of the running faucet. He washes his hands so meticulously, rubbing the suds into his knuckles and cuticles. Just like a surgeon. “I can get you into my practice next week. My nurse can take care of the treatment. It’s just three shots over the course of six months.”
I twist my lips, debating. Hm, if I had to choose between IVF, or pretty tits. “How much does that cost? I don’t think my insurance will cover something like that.”
He shakes his hands out in the sink to dispel the excess water, then reaches for the roll of paper towels I unpacked. “No need to involve insurance. We can do it for free. Any friend of Adam’s is a friend of mine.”
“You’re a godsend. Thank you. I should’ve gotten these done with you.”
“Accurate. I am indeed the best.” He winks and then points to the bedroom. “Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with. Bra off, but you can just lift your shirt. By the way, I’d recommend wearing a bra without underwire when you’re in discomfort like this.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Adam squalls, his face growing red and frozen in mild horror. “How do you—” He stops abruptly and sucks in a breath. “I don’t think—” He inhales and exhales again, trying to control his shaky voice. “Don’t you feel like this is a little inappropriate?”
“You know I’m a surgeon, right?” Alex asks with a smirk. “I have a license to practice medicine and everything.”
“Yeah…but…” Adam looks frantically around the kitchen like he’s going to find the perfect excuse sitting in a cabinet. “You’re not at your practice.”
Alex tries to contain his smile at his brother’s obvious jealousy. “Amani, I have that special kind of license that means I’m a doctor no matter where I am, but if you’re uncomfortable, you can call my office and book an appointment.”
I raise my brows. “You’re literally right here. If you don’t mind, I’d rather know if there’s a problem sooner than later.”
“Great.” Alex gestures to the bedroom. “Let’s pop the hood and see what’s going on.”
I take a few steps toward the bedroom, then spin around and lock onto Adam’s wide, crazed eyes. He looks a little ill. “I won’t if it bothers you,” I offer.
His Adam’s apple bulges as he swallows hard. He balls up his hand and presses his knuckles against his lips. “Why would it bother me?” he murmurs into his fist.
I shrug. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Yep,” he grunts out.
Once I’m in the bedroom and Alex shuts the door behind me, I unclasp my bra and slip the straps through my sleeves, then yank up my shirt.
“Okay, this is nothing too serious,” Alex says, ducking his head and examining my scar. “I don’t see signs of infection, but it does look like you have more scar tissue on one side than the other.” He holds two fingers out but pauses an inch away from my breast. “Is this okay or are you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s fine. Go for it.”
Alex presses firmly along the length of my scar and I wince. “All right, there’s a little inflammation. Let’s get that under control and we can talk about treatments. The hydrocortisone shots will make a noticeable difference, but laser resurfacing is also becoming a popular option.” He glances at me again. “May I make sure your implants are still in the proper place before I recommend any type of treatment.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Alex.”
“Hm, I like that. Dr. Alex makes me sound less old than Dr. Montgomery,” he mumbles as he presses against the top of my chest. It’s when he cups the underside of my breast that there’s a loud knock on the door, making us both flinch.
“Carson needs to be changed,” Adam calls through the door. “Are the diapers in there?”
“Nope,” I call back. “His diaper bag is right smack in the middle of the living room. You can’t miss it.” I chuckle at his weak excuse.
“Fine,” Adam grumbles through the door.
“This must be killing him,” Alex says with a wicked smile. He presses against the top of my other breast and nods like he’s satisfied. “Okay, everything is intact. You can put your bra back on. What I’d recommend is a steroid to reduce all the inflammation and then you can decide which method of treatment you’d like to try.”
Turning my back to Alex, I put my bra back on and pull down my shirt. Spinning back around, I hold up one finger. “Wait. Can I ask one more question?”
“Of course.”
“With implants and my nipples pierced, is breastfeeding an impossibility?”
Alex widens his eyes, surprised by my question. “Are you pregnant?”
“No,” I assure him. “I just mean if I were to become pregnant. Isn’t breastfeeding best for a baby? Did I already fuck that up? When I got my breasts done, I didn’t think I’d ever want kids.”
“First of all, in most cases, women with implants can breastfeed without any issues. Second of all, breastfeeding is a personal choice. Tara struggled to nurse. Carson started on formula almost right away and he’s blowing past all of his milestones. Actually, he’s too smart. I wish he’d slow down. I blinked and my baby disappeared. He’s a little boy now and I miss the baby years already.”
“Would you have another?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“With Tara? In a heartbeat. But good luck convincing her,” he says with a bitter undertone.
“Please understand, I do not mean with me, but would you have a baby with another woman?”
Alex shakes his head. “I was a different man when Tara and I were, uh…let’s say hanging out.”
“So you mean sleeping together, no strings attached.”
“Right,” he says, shifting his weight to his other leg and crossing his arms. “I didn’t think I’d ever want to settle down, but when Carson came along, my whole world came into focus. All I want is my family to be together, but I don’t think Tara’s convinced I’ve really changed. She thinks my rose-colored glasses are temporary. So I’m just hanging around, biding my time…booking ridiculously expensive Disney vacations.” He laughs.
“Ha, well, if you’ve come around, maybe Adam will too.” I suck in a sharp breath and clasp my hand over my mouth. “Shit, that came out wrong. Please don’t tell him I said that. I just meant he’s so good with Carson, I’m surprised he doesn’t want kids.” Dammit. I mentally scold myself for losing my cool. Brothers talk. That was tactless.
“You know, Amani, once upon a time, all Adam wanted was to have a baby and be a dad. He got really close.”
I try to keep my face composed. Adam mentioned an ex-wife. He never mentioned a baby. “What do you mean?”
Alex twists his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. If he hasn’t already brought it up to you, I don’t think it’s my place to say anything more.”
I nod adamantly, trying to hide my disappointment. Of course I’m curious. Now I’m going to ruminate on this little mystery for the foreseeable future. What a freaking riddle. What does it mean that all Adam wanted was a baby and he got really close?
“Regarding everything else, I’ll text you the number to my practice. I’ll make sure my office manager knows to squeeze you in right away.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. Okay, I’m going to go put my brother out of his misery,” he says with a cackle. “But, Amani, I really hope the baby thing works out for you.”
“Thanks,” I say with a genuine smile. “And hey, I hope the baby thing works out for you, too.”
Alex opens the door to find Adam standing there with his fist raised as if he was about to knock again.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Alex asks.
Adam balks. “What? No, I—”
“Subtle, Adam,” Alex says with a hearty chuckle. “Real subtle.”