Three Little Words (#dirtysexygeeks Book 4) Page 5

  He met Iris’s gaze. She was pregnant with his baby.

  Pregnant.

  Emotions would only make this exchange messy. He grasped hold to logic and refused to let it go even if it cried out for mercy.

  “We got a little vigorous and tore the last condom, but you told me you were on birth control. I assumed when I didn't hear from you, everything was okay.”

  Her brows rose. “And you're completely fine?”

  He wasn't in the same universe as fine. He gripped the cup until, if it had any weakness in its structure, it would crack under the pressure of his hand. “Do you want me to come to your next appointment? Should we iron out child support now? What is the next step you have in mind, since I assume we're having this talk because you're keeping the child?”

  She blinked again. “I just had one. The next one isn't for a month.” She dug around in her purse and placed an ultrasound on the counter.

  His next inhale was deeper, but he released the glass, not able to take more than a cursory glance at the picture. “And everything's fine?”

  “Yes.” Iris crossed her arms over her middle—a thoughtless protective gesture. “You can come to my appointments if you want to, but me and the baby really don't need anything from you. I got this.”

  Heat bloomed in his chest. Of all the fucking things she could have said to him. “Don't need anything from me?” He pitched his voice low, and he tried, really hard, to grab hold to his anger and wrangle it to the floor.

  “Right,” he said. That single word came out gritted teeth. Porter exhaled and managed to get to five in his mental head count before he added, “I just donated sperm.”

  “That's not what I meant.” She put her hands up. “I'm telling you that because I don’t want you to think I’m here just for a check.”

  He hadn’t texted her back right away and that probably made him seem like a dick. Porter had simply wanted to muddle through his emotions before they talked. That was fucking reasonable. “Then why are you telling me, since you have everything covered?”

  “Because you're going to be a father. You should know that, and it's not like I can keep a pregnancy from Ashley.”

  Shit. Porter spread his hands on the counter, knowing he’d have to face his baby sister and tell her he got her best friend pregnant. Ashley would serve him the biggest bowl of crow and he’d deserve it.

  “I'll tell her,” he said.

  Iris pursed her lips and glanced down. He let out a short laugh. “She knows. Knew before me. Right.” He balled his fists against the counter and leaned. “Anything else I need to know?”

  “I can tell you’re pissed, but I just told her today. I texted you first and you didn't answer.”

  Hours. He’d spent hours trying to come to terms with what he knew she’d tell him. Iris likely had weeks to adjust yet he was the bad guy out the goddamn gate. The bad guy who had a sister who didn’t tell him a goddamn thing.

  “Right,” he said again because he was stuck on a goddamn loop. Any other word might scorch the earth between them. “Anything else?”

  She reached out for the ultrasound, hesitated then pushed it closer to him. “I should go. You have my number and if I do need anything I know I can call you.”

  “If...that's when you'll call me and tell me about our child...” He nodded and could feel his temper sliding through his fingers like sand. “Let me see you out.”

  He was on autopilot as he rounded the counter, walking ahead of her. He waited until she stepped out to lock the door behind him. Iris turned at the sound, her brows furrowed. He moved past her to his car.

  “Porter?”

  He kept barreling forward. “I thought I wasn't needed for anything else, but yes?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to my sister,” he bit out.

  Her heels clacked against the pavement in a staccato beat. She was following him. “No, you are not.”

  He unlocked his car door, ignoring her. She knocked his hand aside and stood in front of him. He was too shocked to do anything else but stare down at her. Her jaw was taut and her face fierce.

  “You are not going to yell at your sister. She's my friend. I had to tell someone. If you're going to be angry at someone, if you need to lash out, I'm here. I'm the culprit. But you are not going to make Ashley the fall guy for your feelings again.”

  And that right there was the fucking problem. All of their lives were tangled, complicated and so fucking precarious because his sister had fallen in love with his best friend. And vice versa.

  Porter had gone and fucked it up more. Had Iris been any other woman, Ashley wouldn’t have waited five seconds to call him. He had every right to be pissed his sister wasn’t in his corner, and for this. He was going to be a father. If anyone on the planet knew exactly how he would feel about that, it would be her.

  And she hadn’t told him.

  Porter braced his hands on either side of Iris, brought his face down so she could see just how serious he was. “Move.”

  She rose to the tips of her toes, damn near came nose to nose with him. “No.”

  He breathed again but this time he took in her sweet, musky scent. Memories of their night threatened to drown him as vanilla and almonds assailed him. And, shit, at this view and her in that dress, he could tell her tits had gotten bigger. Her eyes were wide and her mouth so fucking full...The attraction dug into him again, just like before.

  He'd listened to his dick the last time that sensation tugged at him.

  But this version of Iris had let him know he would be a father and he wasn't even needed for the job. How the fuck can anyone say that to someone? How the fuck could she say it to him when he was sure Ashley had told her every secret, every hurt? That’s what best friends did.

  Iris didn’t think shit of him. He’d deal with that later. Right now he had a sister to yell at.

  Porter growled. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  Her head snapped back. “Excuse me?”

  “Get. The fuck. Out of my way.”

  “No.”

  With whatever leftover calm he had he grabbed her hand and slapped his keys in them. Her brows bunched as she frowned but he didn't wait for her to get it. Porter stalked in the direction of Victor and Ashley's apartment.

  “Are you that hotheaded you'll walk two miles just to scream at your sister? Is this the kind of shit I have to look forward to?”

  The words slammed into him and froze his feet. “Iris, stay out of this. This is between me and my sister.”

  “If you’re spoiling for a fight, I'm here. Let it out, because you’re not hurting your sister again.”

  He bowed his head, tried his best to breathe away the anger set to a boil. No use. Not this time. Not when Iris refused to understand the simple truth. He had brothers. Four of them. They weren’t blood but they were family.

  He only had one sister.

  Was it too hard for Ashley to pick up a phone and send a single text? Hell, if she felt more loyal to Iris all Ashley had to say was I’m here for you.

  She hadn’t, and she had to know how he’d feel. Apparently Ashley didn’t think shit of him either.

  And Iris wanted the wrath he was working up to unleash on his sister.

  He faced her. “Fine.”

  Sherlock + Molly

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Did Iris know Porter could be intense? Ashley had told her verbatim what Porter had said when he found out about Victor.

  And, okay. She definitely knew Porter could be a force of nature in the bedroom. Iris's stomach clenched at the memories trying to slip forward. A man who towers over six feet, has tattoos covering his forearms, has eyes as dark as night grinding between your legs, tipping your world in the best fucking way—that was definitely intense.

  She could say the experience was different when that man who towered over six feet, held a dark, slightly murderous gaze marched toward you. No. Rammed forward like a bull and she’d just waved a red fl
ag in front of him.

  Did she forget to mention the thunderous expression?

  Yeah. He had that too.

  Fear should have sang up her spine. This was it. This was Porter being the kind of man she knew he could be. The one she’d run from when dating.

  Except she was pissed and getting angrier by the second.

  Porter braced his arms on the car, like before, and leaned down. “What I planned to tell Ashley is that she should have called me the moment the words 'your brother impregnated me' fell out of your mouth. Because when were you going to tell me? It's been three fucking months. You’ve must have known for at least a month that you were pregnant. You’ve shut me out, and I can almost understand. I can understand up to the moment you decided to keep our baby. After that? A woman I don't even know is carrying my child, and told my sister. My sister should have told me. Family comes first, but that’s something you clearly don't understand.”

  The insult hit, and hard. “What?” she snapped.

  “I'll call you if I need you?’”

  She winced hearing her words come out of his mouth. “I told you, I didn't mean—”

  “If. I have no doubt a mother can raise a child on her own, just fine, but I'm here. I'm willing to be here, and you hit me with an if I'm needed. Yet my temper is a problem? You've already written me off. Shouldn't that make me question is that how the rest of my life is going to be dealing with you? So fuck you, Iris. You don't know what family means. I'm going to yell at my sister, but call me if you need me to be a father.”

  Iris swallowed. She deserved some of that. She had gone into the conversation braced for absolutely no support, questions about her sexuality and absolutely no good outcome. Their last real conversation involved her reassuring him she was on birth control, and three months later she shows up pregnant? Not all men were dicks, but too many were. Yet, given their history she should have given Porter the benefit of the doubt.

  But how could she ever forget the way he’d made Ashley feel? It was a pit in her stomach Iris couldn’t shake.

  “I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't a welcomed participant in our child's life. That is fucked up.” She poked him in the chest and dug her finger in. “But never again in this life will you ever tell me I don't know what family is.”

  His jaw flexed. “Glad we came to this understanding. Now am I walking or do I get to have my keys back?”

  She huffed at the abrasive dismissal. “You can walk.” She pushed away from him then stopped to pitch his car keys as far as she could.

  “What the fuck, Iris?” he yelled.

  The action had been petty, hotheaded and immature. In a few hours she’d regret it. Would probably shake in her proverbial boots and puke from the fear she should have felt at a man raging at her.

  At the moment the back of her eyelids burned with tears. She refused to let them fall until she was safely in her car. She never cried, not over something a man had done or said to her. She didn’t let them in. Not because she believed every man hurt women. She never wanted to dedicate her life to one only to find out she was so damn wrong about him. Her mother, Porter’s mother...so many women did that.

  It wasn’t supposed to be her, but here she fucking was finally crumbling under the weight. Sure, she hadn’t told Porter as soon as she knew, because if she told him then nothing would stop her from telling her family. She didn’t want to tell them. No. She didn’t want to tell her father.

  She’d swallowed the confession for a month before telling her best friend. Her best friend who made the idea of being a mom doable and not insane. For about five seconds, Iris had been happy.

  Porter ruined it, yelled at her and reminded her her family was fractured and this was not how she'd wanted to bring a child into world.

  So...fuck him and his keys.

  She got into her car and checked her rear view mirror. Porter was still braced against his car, his head on the window. She started hers and left, but that image stayed in her mind, and then blurred as the tears began to fall.

  Dean + Castiel

  The apartment door opened and Porter said, “I need you to break into my house.”

  Victor leaned against the doorjamb, only his feet bare. “Okay,” he said in a low, measured tone.

  Not surprising. Victor used to disarm bombs. Anything outside of that was probably a piece of cake, but his wide cheekbones gave way to a ghost of a smile before he narrowed his eyes. “Can I ask why?”

  Porter opened his mouth to tell Victor everything and caught sight of his sister near the kitchen. She wore a long t-shirt and cut-off sweats. She’d tugged her hair back into a ponytail.

  Her brows inched up. “You okay? Came here to yell at me?”

  Victor looked between them both. “What am I missing?”

  Ashley put her hands on her hips. “Ask Porter.”

  “I'm going to be a father,” he said without an ounce of fanfare. “Now, get your shit so you can break into my house.”

  Victor's head whipped between Porter and Ashley as though that would fill in the rest of the story. Eventually he gave up. “Uh...Let me get my tools.”

  Porter stayed outside the door and Ashley made her way over to him. She stopped a few feet away and then threw her arms around him. “Like I told her, I don't want to be in the middle, but I want you to know I'm so sorry. I know this isn't how you wanted it to happen. You're going to be a great dad.”

  Any leftover anger he had dissipated. This is what he’d wanted from his sister—understanding and commiseration. Losing his temper wouldn’t have made her do it. He knew that. Logically. As usual, his emotions had crept up and got the better of him.

  He pressed his face into Ashley’s hair to keep himself in check, but his throat felt thick. “Thanks, Sis.”

  “One last thing?”

  He chuckled and pulled back. Should have known the conversation with her wouldn’t be that easy. “What?”

  “If you're not yelling at me, that means you yelled at her.” She hit him softly in the stomach. “Asshole.”

  He laughed again. “I thought you weren't getting in the middle?”

  She stepped away, raising her hands in the air. “I'm back out.”

  He rubbed a hand over his stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She tilted her head up, frowning at the ceiling. “Because I know you, Porter. You would have acted an ass if you heard it from me and not her.”

  “I wouldn’t have.”

  She dropped her gaze back to him. “I wasn’t going to take that chance, and honestly, it was better you heard it from her.” She sighed. “And don’t think you’re off the hook. After all those years of standing on that stupid rule, you go and—”

  “I know.”

  Ashley smiled. “I’m going to be an auntie!”

  “You already are.”

  “But the baby might look like me, and I’m going to spoil her or him rotten. Not to mention, I’m going to teach your kid all your hot buttons because karma, thy name is Auntie Ashley.”

  God, he loved his sister. “You will not.”

  Victor strolled out of the hallway with a toolbox and a baseball cap. He stopped long enough to smile at Ashley and then kiss her. “Mrs. Yang, I’ll be back...” He glanced at Porter's face. “...later.”

  Ashley patted her husband’s cheek. “Don’t let him drink his feelings. You know how he gets, and I don’t want you coming home smelling like vomit.”

  “I won’t.” Victor kissed her again.

  Ashley smacked his ass after he turned to walk away. Porter wasn’t sure if he should be amused or horrified at his friend’s blush. Either way, he tried to scrub the image from his mind as he settled into Victor’s truck. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

  “Are you drunk already?” Victor started the car.

  “Not yet, but I will be as soon as I'm in my house.”

  Victor grunted. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

  “We got into
an argument, and she threw my keys. I walked here to get help.”

  Victor’s second grunt was longer, more thoughtful. “Not what I meant at all. Let’s start with the basics. She...who?”

  It dawned on Porter he hadn’t told Victor all the facts. The man had just gone along with it. That’s, in part, how Victor had become his best friend. Porter wouldn’t dare call him easygoing, but Victor was hands off, supportive and a beast when necessary.

  “Iris. I got her pregnant.”

  “Ashley's friend?” Before Porter could answer, Victor laughed, really hard. “Karma's a bitch. Need me to call the guys?”

  Given how much of an ass he’d been when he found out about Victor and Ashley, the laugh was the least he deserved. “I might murder Wade right now, so, no.”

  Victor went quiet again. “You hooked up with her after the wedding?”

  Porter's stomach clenched. “Yes.”

  And shame followed next because...fuck. Porter had held a grudge for months against Victor. “If I haven’t told you lately, I’m sorry for being a dick.”

  “You said it once, and that was good enough for me.”

  “And—”

  “You’ve only been a father for five minutes and you’re already getting mushy on me.”

  “Asshole.”

  Victor’s hand flexed against the steering wheel. “So if you would kill Wade, right now might not be a good time to joke about condom use?”

  “No.”

  “All right. Just wanted to know my parameters.”

  Porter laughed. “You're a jackass.”

  Victor only grinned, but then the expression faded. “First Grady, and now you. Huh.”

  Porter opened his mouth to tell his friend it wasn't the same. Eva and Grady were in love. There was excitement and joy when they’d announced the news, and at every milestone of the pregnancy. Izzie had been...She’d given Eva and Grady hope their future would be brighter. They weren't repeating their parents's pasts.

  And Porter didn't even know Iris's last name.

  His mother and father had known each other for six months before they married. Porter came along five months later. He didn’t know—had refused to know—Iris’s backstory, and somehow that made everything worse.