by Selena Kitt
“Dad, no you didn’t.” I say in disbelief.
“Wow, oh my god, thank you Will.”
“Yes, I did. I would like it if on occasion you let your husband take me out on it, and maybe when those boys are older you’ll let me take them out too.”
“Of course, daddy. Thank you so much.” Allison says and hugs her father again.
My wife insisted on having our wedding night at a haunted bed and breakfast, and while I would have picked something else, the look of excitement on her face when we checked in made it completely worth it. Besides, it’s not like I’m scared.
I’m not going to tell you much about our wedding night. Like the night I took her virginity when we were teenagers, this memory is for me. I will tell you that Allison has some serious stamina for a pregnant lady. It must have been all of the chocolate she consumed at our reception.
I hold her tight all night long. Mostly because she’s my wife and I never want to let her go. Also because I swear I hear chains rattling in the hallway after she went to sleep. She’s going to be disappointed that she missed that. Her grandmother passed years ago, and from what I understand, that lady would be the type who would love to scare her granddaughter and new grandson-in-law for fun on their wedding night.
You got me Granny Rose. I’ll tell her in the morning.
Three Months Later
“I hate you. Get out.”
“Now sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You did this to me and I want you out NOW!” Allison yells at me when another contraction hits.
“Okay, baby. I’ll be in the hallway.” I say and start to get up.
“If you leave this room, I’ll hunt you down and skin you alive.” She says and grips my hand tighter.
Her labor goes on for what seems like an eternity. At one point, her doctor tells us that she is probably going to have to have a C-section. Allison asks if it’s possible to just give the boys a little bit longer, and the doctor agrees. Fortunately, after another two hours, our sons are ready to be born.
Once the pushing starts, it’s over a lot faster than I expect. I get to see my sons and hear their first cries. I hold Allison’s hand while the nurses clean them up, and when they hand the babies to Allison, it’s hard for me to hold back my tears.
That’s the moment, looking down at my new family, that I know I’ll never be the same. In an instant, everything changes, and I know that I have to work every day to be a better man. Allison tells me that I’m being silly because I’m already a wonderful husband, but I know I can do better.
“Are we going to give them the names we talked about?” She says as the boys sleep against her chest.
“If it’s okay with you. I’d like to.” I say, but I want it to be completely up to her.
“Well, Wesley Coyote Marks and Benjamin Hawk Marks, welcome to the world.” Allison says and kisses both of their heads.
I take a picture and send it to their namesakes.
Allison
I wake up in the middle of the night and I’m confused for a moment as to where I am. I look around the dimly lit room and see Hunter in a rocking chair soothing our babies back to sleep. The memory of giving birth to them comes flooding back in, and my heart feels full enough to burst.
“Go back to sleep my love.” Hunter says very quietly. “I’ve got them for now.”
Back at home, the boys grow like weeds. I’m fortunate that I have Angela and my dad to watch the twins, so I never have to leave them with strangers. I take them to work with me as often as I can. I just wear a sling in the front and a papoose on my back. Jen and Terri take turns with them too when I need to bake.
When the football season is over, Hunter is home a lot more, and that is a big help. He’s already talking about more babies, and I think he’s crazy. Adorable, but totally nuts.
“Can you let me get these two in preschool before you start trying to knock me up again, Mr. Marks.” I say to him and laugh when he starts talking about wanting a little girl to round out our family.
“Maybe.” He replies and laughs. “We can hire a nanny, you know.”
“I don’t want to hire a nanny. You can just wait a couple of years before you start trying to spread your seed again. God, you’re like a wild animal.”
“A wild animal that’s crazy about you. I’m going to make dinner.” He says and starts for the kitchen.
“Oh god, no. Hunter, the last time you tried to make dinner, you almost burned the house down. You take Wesley and Ben and I’ll make dinner.”
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Allison
“Goodbye boys. You be good for your Papa” I say and kiss the twins on the head.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. We’re going to have a wonderful time?” My dad says and takes the boys by the hand.
I follow them out this SUV and help him get them strapped in. I made sure to wear them out in the pool before he arrived so that they would sleep on the drive to Savannah.
“You sure you can handle them all by yourself.”
“Allison, I raised you by myself didn’t I?” He says with a smile.
“When I was this young, you had Grandma to help you.”
“We’ll be fine. Stop worrying and enjoy the weekend off with your husband. If I need help, I’ll call Angela. Now, go inside. We’ll see you Monday.”
Hunter grabs me and kisses me as soon as I walk in the door. He sweeps me up in his arms and starts to carry me towards the bedroom.
“My you are impatient, Mr. Marks.” I say and laugh.
“You promised me we could start working on another one this weekend. You said it was time. Those were your words, not mine.” He says and squeezes me against his chest.
“Well, you’re welcome to take a practice run, but I’m afraid it will be just for fun.” I say and wink at him.
“What do you mean?” He says and puts me down.
“Hey, watch it buddy. You have to be gentle with a woman in my condition.” I say and punch him playfully on the arm.
“You mean. You’re already…” He says and his voice trails off.
“Yep. Sorry I didn’t tell you big man, but I wanted to wait until the doctor confirmed it before I got your hopes up. I found out yesterday.”
“A practice run it is, then.” He says and picks me up again.
“You’re squeezing me too tight.” I say and laugh.
“What do you expect from your Anaconda?”
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Stolen Goods - WICKED LIES (secret baby) by Lola White
Chapter 1
“I must be insane. I really must be.”
“What about the cameras?” Weslyn Moon glanced up at the small, black box hunkering in the corner, but didn’t see any tell-tale red light to get a clue as to its working order.
Her current partner in crime jerked and flinched. “They’re just dummies. Not real. Jesus, I’m insane.”
“How many times are you going to repeat yourself?” Pausing out of pure reflex, Weslyn looked down a dark, deserted hallway. Nobody there, nobody anywhere, except Doctor George Milliken who was ready to have kittens on the floor of the Barre Birth and Reproductive Center. Which, all things considered, seemed fitting.
Weslyn was just a little creeped out by the nighttime hush of the clinic. Used to living as anonymously as possible, predominantly in cities where people went unnoticed by law enforcement every day, she’d been unprepared for the quiet she’d found
in Vermont. She didn’t like it all. Silence made her feel exposed and George’s choppy breathing was making her paranoid, but this was where the man worked, so Weslyn had little choice in facilities.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” George muttered.
“Ooh, variety. Nice. Much better than repeating yourself incessantly.” Weslyn tiptoed behind the doctor, following as he made a sharp left into a bland office decorated with a table, a chair and an oversized, dull and lifeless beach-view watercolor that made her heart break into a thousand pieces. “You know, with my eyes closed, I could paint you something way better than that monstrosity.”
“That’s how we got into this mess in the first place,” George snapped. Without giving Weslyn a chance to set his delusions straight—because she was about to point out that he’d definitely had a starring role in the prequel to that night’s caper—he threw a heavy binder onto the desk. “Here, look through this and pick someone out.”
“Wow. Made to order, huh?”
“Not exactly. You get whichever specimen you choose, but anything that goes wrong is on you.” George suddenly gripped his hair. “This is just going much faster than it should and—”
“I took the medicine you sent. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah? Great, wonderful.” Doctor George shook his head. “One fucking secret and it all comes down to this. Look, Moon, I’m just telling you upfront that I have no control over the outcome, and the way you’re going about all this—”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first twenty times you told me. It might not work.”
“And I’m not at fault! You can’t come back here thinking to do this again.”
Weslyn cocked her head and took a long look at the doctor. His eyes were wide and his skin was pasty in the glow of the few overheads he’d dared to keep on. George was a step away from total meltdown, more paranoid than even Weslyn, sweaty and shaking, his breathing a touch too fast and his pulse pounding hard in his neck.
Poor guy—not that Weslyn felt all that sorry for him. After all, he gave her the tools for his own downfall. She wished him well and hoped he didn’t get busted, but only because him getting caught would probably get her caught, too.
“We’re straight, George,” she finally said. “I won’t come back here looking for your help again, and I won’t have to. This is going to work.”
“Nineteen percent—”
“I know the odds.” She waved off his warning. “You’ve told me a hundred times. I got it, George, I really do. Now, let me pick out a baby daddy already.”
The doctor glanced at his extremely expensive watch. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
“We’ve got all night, George.”
“The security makes rounds, Moon. Plus I have to thaw the sperm, fertilize your egg and implant—Jesus! Just get on with it!”
Rolling her eyes, Weslyn turned back to the binder and started paging through. Each thin section was devoted to a single man and fronted by a facial close-up in full color of the donor in question, followed by a black and white photo of their whole body. Reports of the testing the clinic had done came next, complete with genome charts and medical histories No names on any of the pages. There was nothing to guarantee the outcome of a pregnancy, but Weslyn figured that sort of promise was impossible anyway, and settled down to make her decision as quickly as she could. She focused on appearance rather than medical history or educational status—after all, poor health precluded men from donating and anyone with enough money could buy an education, so neither were important markers for successful pregnancy.
Some donors were too old, some too young. Considering that the guidelines of ideal candidacy kept every contributor around the same general age, it wasn’t a rational reason to reject a man, but little was rational about the situation anyway. Weslyn didn’t like this one’s mouth or that one’s nose, some had a jaw that she found unappealing, others had a chin too pointed for her taste. Page after page, section after section, donor after donor.
And then she found him.
Dark hair. Hazel eyes somewhere between silver and green in the photo, so warm with a spark of kindness shining within and surrounded by a faint network of laugh lines. He looked happy, and for a wild moment, Weslyn felt happy looking at him. His ears were well-sized, his jaw square and strong without being bullish, his nose long but not large, his cheekbones high and sharp enough to slice cheese. His mouth would give any woman a whole slew of dirty fantasies—even a woman like Weslyn, who would rather gnaw off her own lips than have another’s pressed against her, anywhere.
She turned the page. Male beauty, laid out in black and white. Broad shoulders, nice hands and still that sparkle could be seen in the man’s eyes. Weslyn tamped down the sliver of anxiety worming through her at the thought of how big the guy looked in comparison to the medical equipment next to him. It wasn’t as if she’d ever meet him, and if she had a boy that turned out just as big as his biological father… Well, Weslyn would have raised him right, and he would love his mother unconditionally, and would therefore never even think of hurting her.
She ran through the whole checklist again, and came to the conclusion that the genes of the donor in question would make a beautiful baby. The man was attractive, strong and compelling. He seemed nice, from his picture, and she really was taken with the look in his eye, the laughter she imagined he must experience every day. The rest of his file wasn’t as complete as the others had been, but the date at the top also marked his donation as the oldest in the facility. Two years, and no takers for the single sample they had left in storage.
You snooze, you lose, she thought. All in all, the donor was perfect.
“This one, George.” Weslyn tapped the photo with a confidence that echoed in her gut. She knew that feeling—she’d been living by it for years now. Everything within her went prickly with excitement, but also still with assurance that she was on the right track. “Donor A-00176.”
Chapter 2
Nolan answered the phone on the second ring. “Findley.”
“Agent Nolan Findley?”
“Yeah.”
“Good afternoon, sir. My name is Sarah Long and I’m calling from the Barre Birth and Reproductive Center. In Barre, Vermont?”
Searing anger followed on the heels of disbelief. Just the name of the place that had become Nolan’s private hell was enough to have him seeing red, and the utter gall of the woman to call him up—
“I paid that bill,” he snapped. “Two years ago, in fact, right before my wife left me. I have my receipts to prove it.”
“Oh no, sir, that’s not why I’m calling. Well, you see, I’m the assistant to Doctor Trentham, the new director of the clinic? Well, it has recently come to our attention…”
Nolan gritted his teeth, prayed for patience and glared at the clock, silently condemning it for not moving faster. It had been a hellish day, and though there was precious little to go home to in his apartment, he’d like to at least get the fuck out of the stale air of the dismal office the FBI had assigned him to.
Why Buffalo, anyway? Why couldn’t he have scored big with a transfer to Florida? Jesus, he couldn’t take another winter like the one he’d just lived through.
“And now it’s gone, Agent Findley. We’re so sorry, but we do assure you that every measure is being taken to increase security.”
“Whoa!” Nolan shook his head, realizing he’d missed something extremely important in Sarah Long’s rambling explanation. “What did you just say?”
“Your semen sample is gone. We have contacted the police, of course, but, quite frankly, we don’t expect them to contact you, considering the…sensitivity of the…donation. I wouldn’t think they’d contact you, at least—”
“Stop. Go back.” Nolan rubbed his eyes, hoping if he did it hard enough his brain would jump-start to the appropriate focal point. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The missing samples.” Sarah’s sweetly regretful voice took on the
bite of annoyance. “Agent Findley, I just told you—”
“Are you reporting a crime? This is the Buffalo office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, ma’am. If you’re trying to report a theft in Vermont—”
“We did.” Sarah was definitely getting snappy. “And we took measures to solve that crime, only to end up with another one!”
Nolan worked his jaw, counted to ten—though he should have counted much slower—and breathed deeply. “Look, Miss Long, it’s the end of a very long day. Exactly what is the problem?”