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Porter, Page 20

Georgia Cates


  I say nothing, forcing her to speak first. “Is Porter here?”

  “Nope. Just me.”

  “Do you know when he’ll be home?”

  If she were any other woman, I’d tell her to fuck off. But that isn’t going to be an option with her. Ever. “Maybe an hour.”

  “Can I come in?”

  I don’t want to let her in. I need to speak with Porter about this situation before I have any kind of communication with this woman. “I know we need to—and it’s coming—but I’m not ready for us to have a conversation yet.”

  “I see he told you about our baby.”

  Our baby. Hearing her say that makes me ill. “He did.”

  “What are your thoughts about that?”

  Dumbest fucking question ever. “What do you think my thoughts are?”

  “I would imagine you’re not very happy about it.”

  I look at her, saying nothing. What does she want from me? Denial? Confirmation?

  “I’d like to come in and talk to you before Porter gets home. Woman-to-woman.”

  This woman doesn’t know me, but we have one common denominator. “Okay.”

  I return to the kitchen; I’m not taking her into the living room where she can get comfortable. I don’t want her here one minute longer than necessary “You caught me in the middle of cooking dinner.”

  She looks at the chicken on the counter and turns her head. “Raw meat has been making me sick with this pregnancy.”

  Good. Maybe that will speed up this conversation she’s insisting we have. “You wanted to talk. I’m listening.”

  “I already love this baby, and I want the best for it.”

  “You are its mother. I would expect no less.”

  “A child needs a mother and father one hundred percent of the time. Not a little parenting here and a little there. Would you agree?”

  “I strongly believe a child needs both parents.”

  “I’m glad you see things that way, so you’ll understand why having you around isn’t what’s best for my baby.”

  What the actual fuck? “Excuse me?”

  “My baby deserves both of its parents. And Porter isn’t going to be the father he needs to be as long as you’re in his life.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. He’s going to put you first. You’ll come before his child every time. And that’s not fair to our baby.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I need Porter’s support. He should be going to my doctor appointments with me. He should be by my side when they do the ultrasounds, seeing his child grow inside me. He should be bonding with our baby during my pregnancy. Touching my belly. Talking to the baby. But he isn’t going to do that for fear of upsetting you.”

  That has to be some of the most unrealistic expectations I’ve ever heard. “Those are the things that happen when a pregnant woman is in a relationship with the father of her baby. This pregnancy is the result of a one-night stand. You don’t have a relationship with Porter.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We share a child. That puts us in a relationship, a very special one.”

  “But not by choice.”

  “Maybe not. But those feelings can change. He can become happy about this baby. He can be by my side when it comes into this world. He can look at our little miracle and fall in love with his child the first time he sees him or her. But he isn’t going to act happy or show affection because he’ll be afraid of upsetting you. Can’t you see? My baby will never have the full love of its father because of you. Can you in good conscience rob an innocent child of the love of its parent? Are you really that selfish?”

  “I’d like you to leave. Now.”

  I manage to stay strong until the door shuts, but I’m a tearful mess crumpled on the kitchen floor the minute she’s gone.

  I lean against the cabinet, sobbing. Because I know there’s at least a little truth to what she said.

  They share a child. They share a special relationship.

  And I don’t have that with him.

  I am so fucking nervous right now.

  Frankee’s text says she’s ready to talk. The next text says she’ll cook dinner. And the next says she loves me. That has to be a good sign. She wouldn’t say those things if she were about to leave me.

  I have a good feeling about this. A damn good feeling.

  Until I find Frankee in a sobbing shamble on the kitchen floor.

  I sink to the floor and pull her into my arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She turns in my arms and curls against me like a child. “I came here to tell you I didn’t want to live without you. And that I could accept the baby. But then she came here and now…”

  “Who came here?”

  “Her. That woman you got pregnant.”

  “Charlotte was here?”

  “Yes.”

  Why? How does she even know where I live? “What did she say?”

  “She says my being in the baby’s life isn’t what’s best for the baby.”

  “I don’t understand what that means or where that’s coming from.”

  “She told me that you’d never be the father her baby needed as long as I was in your life. You’d always put me first, and that wouldn’t be fair to the baby.”

  That’s only partly true. “You’re the love of my life. Of course, you come first, but I’m sure I’d learn to balance my time and attention with the baby after it’s born. That’s what any parent does.”

  “She wants you to go to the doctor with her and be there for ultrasounds and touch her stomach and talk to the baby, but she says you won’t because of me.”

  “I don’t want to do any of that stuff. And that has nothing to do with you.”

  “She says you won’t fully love the baby as long as I’m around. And that I’m robbing an innocent child of its father’s love. And that makes me selfish.”

  “I’m struggling with my feelings toward this baby, but that has nothing to do with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Parents love their children. It’s what they do. It’s their job. I know it sounds horrible, but I don’t feel anything for this baby.” I’m fairly certain that makes me a terrible person.

  “You just found out. I don’t think you’ve had time to process how you feel.”

  “I know it’s only been three days, but I think I should feel something. Anything.”

  “It’ll come in time.”

  “If you were the one who was pregnant, I’d already love the baby. I know I would.”

  “Because our child would be an extension of our existing love. It’s not fair to compare the two.”

  I don’t know what I’ll do if Charlotte’s visit has made Frankee change her mind. “You said you came here because you didn’t want to live without me and that you could accept the baby. Is that still true?”

  “I think I can, but something became very apparent to me during my conversation with her. We’re only three days in, and she’s already using this baby as a wedge between us.”

  “Nothing can come between us unless we allow it to.”

  “She wants me out of your life. She was very clear about it.”

  “Don’t give a fuck what she wants. I want you in every second of my life.”

  “I predict that she’s going to make my life a living hell. But because I love you, I’m going to try to make this work.”

  I press a kiss to her lips. “I love you so damn much.”

  “I love you too.”

  “It’s you and me, baby. Forever. No-fucking-body is ever going to tear us apart. Tell me you believe that.”

  “I believe that.”

  I take my phone out of my pocket. “I’m calling Charlotte right now. Not because she’s important enough to interrupt our time together. I’m doing it because I want you to hear everything said between us.”

  I skip the pleasantries of hello and how are you. “Charlotte. Do not show up at my condo a
gain unless you are invited.”

  “I came to talk to you about the baby.”

  “I understand we need to do that, but we’ll make arrangements to schedule a meeting. Don’t show up here unannounced again. And don’t, under any circumstances, ever try to convince Frankee that she should no longer be a part of my life. She is my life, and she isn’t going anywhere. Do you understand that?”

  She hesitates before replying. “Yes.”

  “You’re only thirteen weeks along. We’ll set up some kind of meeting in a month or so to discuss a plan.”

  “A month? I’ll be nearly halfway through my pregnancy at that point.”

  “Why would we need to meet sooner?”

  “You’re supposed to see my belly getting bigger as your baby grows inside me. And we should talk about the baby’s development every week so you’ll know what’s happening.”

  No. No. No. That’s not happening.

  “I’m sure I’d be interested in experiencing that stuff if we were a couple. But we’re not. I’m going to do what I have to do because it’s my responsibility, but don’t expect me to be gung ho about this pregnancy.”

  “You’re saying this stuff because she’s there listening.”

  “I’m telling you how I feel, and that has nothing to do with Frankee.”

  “It has everything to do with her. You’re already choosing her over this baby.”

  How is that even possible when the baby isn’t here yet?

  “I’ve already told you that she’s the thing I love most in this world. That isn’t going to change.” Why is she refusing to acknowledge that?

  “Not even for your child? Your own flesh and blood?”

  “I’m not going to sit here and compare apples and oranges with you.”

  “Our baby needs you to love him or her wholeheartedly.”

  “And I’m sure I will grow to love this child.”

  “You won’t love it as much if you’re not connecting with it while I’m pregnant.”

  That’s such bullshit.

  “I’m sorry if you’re expecting me to be that man who comes over and rubs your belly and gets a thrill when the baby moves. That’s for a lover or boyfriend or husband to do. And I’m none of those things to you. We fucked once and then went our separate ways. That’s it.”

  “You’re being an asshole, and it’s because of her.”

  It’s as though she’s expecting me to act like a husband. And I’m not doing that.

  “No. I’m being an asshole because you’re placing blame on Frankee for things that are out of her control. And I’m also being an asshole because you really pissed me off by coming to my house and trying to convince her to leave me.”

  “I’m looking out for the well-being of our child.”

  “No. You’re being a bitch to the woman who will one day be your child’s stepmother. And you need to stop.”

  “I no longer wish to talk to you while she’s present.”

  “I will contact you in a month.”

  “I have a doctor’s appointment in three weeks. They’ll be doing another ultrasound, and I’d like for you to go with me.”

  Here we go with that shit.

  “Text me the date, time, and address. I’ll let you know in advance if I’m able to come.”

  “Please try to come. It’s important to me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I end the call. “She was singing a different tune than that one three days ago.”

  I thought she was reasonable. Understanding.

  I was wrong.

  “She’s going to be a problem.”

  “She’s not going to be a problem because we’re not going to let her be a problem.” She is not going to come between Frankee and me.

  “What are we going to tell people about us? About her and the baby?”

  “We are going to tell everyone just as we planned, beginning with Scott. But we’re not unnecessarily telling anyone about her or that baby until I confirm that it’s mine.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  “I had to tell them.”

  “Is your mom happy about getting another grandbaby?”

  I hate the sadness I see in her eyes, hear in her voice.

  “No. She’s afraid this fuck-up will cause me to lose you.”

  “I’m going to try. That’s all I can do.”

  “You don’t know how grateful and happy I am that you aren’t turning your back on me. I don’t think I could do this without you.” I press a kiss to her mouth. “I got a glimpse this week of what me without you would be like, and I hated every second.”

  “I hated it too.”

  “Every day, I wanted to be with you at work. I wanted to be with you here at home. I wanted to be in bed with you. And inside you.”

  “I missed all of those things too.”

  “I need you, Frankee.”

  “You can have me. I’m still yours. That hasn’t changed.”

  Hearing her say that she’s still mine, after everything I’ve put her through the last few days, makes me love her even more. She isn’t walking away from me at a time when most women would.

  “You are mine. Forever. I’m never giving you up.” I grasp her chin and kiss her mouth. “I need to be inside you. Connect with you. Feel that you’re still mine.”

  She nods. “I want that.”

  She wiggles to lie on the kitchen floor while I open her shorts and drag them and her panties down her legs. She presses kisses to my face while I work on pushing my jeans and boxer briefs to my knees.

  Frankee reaches between us and grasps my dick. I hiss through gritted teeth when she grips tightly and strokes me from base to tip, up and down. “I need to feel you moving inside me.”

  She bites my bottom lip into her mouth and roughly tugs. “Fuck me, Porter. Right now, on this kitchen floor. Hard. Without any mercy.”

  Sometimes you need to make love. Sometimes you just need to fuck hard. Sometimes you need to fuck out your anger. And this is one of those times.

  No time for foreplay.

  I bring my hand to my mouth and generously lick my fingers before using them to lubricate her. I plunge deep inside, giving her every inch of my length on the first thrust. She squeezes her eyes shut and gasps as her back arches off the floor. “Ahh.”

  Her legs bend at the knees and she wraps them around me with her heels digging into my ass, urging me to fuck deeper. Harder. I pull back and drive into her with complete domination. No mercy. No tenderness. No weakness.

  This woman is mine. I’m the only one to ever have every part of her. And it’s going to stay that way.

  I pull out and thrust hard, pumping my cock in and out of her body. Bare. Skin on skin. Our bodies becoming one without anything separating us.

  I grasp her ankles and put them on my shoulders. I slow my speed but drive into her a little harder at the end of each thrust, shoving her body across the floor with each plunge. She’ll probably wear bruises up and down her spine.

  So fucking intense. And hot. Erotic. No one has ever done this to me except Frankee.

  “You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

  She opens her eyes and looks up at me. Those baby blue eyes on mine while I pound my cock into her pussy… it’s my undoing. I grasp her hips and thrust deeply one last time, exploding inside her. Coming. So hard.

  I lower her legs from my shoulders and collapse on top of her. “That was so good.”

  She bends her knees and wraps her legs around my body. “I needed that. To feel close to you again.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  “We can’t give anyone the power to control what happens between us ever again. Or we won’t survive.”

  “Never happening again, Frankee. I swear.”

  No one is ever going to separate me from this woman again.

  Scott is lying on the couch watching television when Frankee and I come into the house. He sees me and immediately sits up, combing his fingers through his
hair. “Hey boss.”

  The wrinkle across his forehead deepens as he looks back and forth from his daughter to me. “Frankee?”

  “Porter and I need to talk to you.”

  Mrs. Dawson comes into the living room and sits beside Scott.

  “What about?”

  “Scott, you have a wonderful daughter. I knew when I interviewed her that she was the best candidate for the intern position. I was certain she would be a hard worker and I wasn’t wrong. She has been a true asset for me and the art department at Lovibond.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that you’re pleased with her work. I know she’s going to be sad to leave Lovibond in a few weeks.”

  “I’m not leaving, Dad.”

  “You aren’t? Well, that’s wonderful news. When did you decide that?”

  “When Porter asked me to stay.”

  “For a job?”

  “He has offered me the full-time position at Lovibond, but that’s not the only reason I’m staying.” Frankee looks at me and smiles. “I love him.”

  “You love him?”

  I take Frankee’s hand in mine and place our clasped hands on top of my leg. “We love each other.”

  “But you’re not even dating.”

  “We started seeing each other outside of work a couple of weeks after she came to work at Lovibond.”

  “That was months ago, and this is the first I’m hearing about it?”

  “Given my history, I wasn’t sure how you’d react to my dating your daughter. You’re one of my best employees, and I didn’t want there to be any problems between us.”

  “Plus, I was planning to leave in September. It didn’t make sense to potentially cause a ruckus when I was going to be gone soon.”

  I need Scott to hear me. Trust me. Believe me.

  “I have a past. It’s not a stellar one, but please believe me when I tell you that Frankee has changed me. I love her with all of my heart, and she is precious to me. I would never do anything to hurt or disrespect her.”

  Scott sits back on the couch, looking at me. “You know what I’ve had to do for you. Surely, you know that isn’t reassuring to me as her father.”

  “All of that’s over. You’ll never see another woman coming around there looking for me. Frankee’s it for me. I’d love to have your blessing.”

  Scott looks at Frankee. “He’s what you want?”