but the results aren’t
always as high. Not that there’s a one hundred per cent chance of you conceiving, of course. Like when
copulating with an alpha during a heat, it’s not a given that an omega will get pregnant. It could take several
heats.”
“A specially designed dildo,” Charlie echoed before pointing at me. “You’ve got one of those.”
My face became so hot I was convinced I was going to set on fire.
“Relax. Doctor-patient confidentiality means they’re not gonna go telling anyone what sex toys you have.” Charlie
winked at me.
I wiped my hand over my face. “In all seriousness, if we use the dildo, does it have to be done by a doctor or…?”
“You can do it,” Dr Robinson said. “If that’s what you prefer. If you choose the more effective method, that does
have to be done by a medical professional.”
“Austin’s gonna inseminate me with the dildo,” Charlie said quickly. “I don’t want anyone else in the room while I’
m in heat.” He gripped my hand tightly. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
Both doctors shook their head. Dr Robinson pulled a prescription pad out of his bag and began to write on the
first page.
“Start taking the folic acid immediately. Choose a sperm donor and let us know when you want to proceed.”
Charlie started making something the moment we walked in the door, though I wasn’t sure what. He didn’t say a
word until he finished kneading the dough. I watched but gave him the space and silence he obviously needed to
process whatever thoughts were churning in his brain.
“Why do you think we should pick an arctic fox donor?” he asked as he got a bowl out of the cupboard.
He put the dough into it and covered it with a damp tea towel.
“Do I get to know what you’re making?”
Charlie turned around and clasped his floury fingers behind my neck. He pecked me on the lips. “Nope, it’s a
surprise. Are you gonna answer my question?”
I put my hands on his hips. “It’s important to your dads.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “What about what’s important to you? Or to me?”
“I…” I tried to kiss him to placate him, but he wheeled away.
“We’ve got forty minutes before I can do anything else.” He washed his hands. “Plenty of time to talk.”
Forty minutes was plenty of time to do a lot of things, but he was right. We needed to talk because we clearly
weren’t on the same page as far as sperm donors were concerned.
Charlie took my hand and led me into the sitting room. We sat on the sofa. Or rather, I sat, and he lay on his
back over my lap, with his head resting on a cushion. He put his hands around my neck, loosely embracing me,
as he stared into my eyes.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
Charlie pinched his lips together. “Really?”
“Yes, really. When Jesse and Isaac made the decision to adopt, they chose to adopt babies, knowing they
wouldn’t have much clue what animals those babies would shift into. They still won’t know for at least another
eighteen months. It doesn’t matter to them. Why should it matter to me?”
Charlie shrugged. “I thought it might have mattered, y’know, seeing as you didn’t know who Jesse’s alpha dad
was.”
I sighed. “That did matter to me for a long time. I’d hoped Jesse would take after his alpha dad’s animal, so at
least I’d know that much.”
“But he took after you.”
I nodded. “But I’ve finally realised it doesn’t matter. Not knowing who Jesse’s dad is doesn’t make me love him
any less, just like the twins are no less my grandsons because they’re adopted. I will be our baby’s dad in every
way that’s important. So if you were thinking that I’d insist on the sperm donor being a capuchin monkey, you’re
wrong.” I brushed his hair back from his face. “But it does matter to your dads. They want you to breed true.”
Charlie shuddered. “I really hate that term.”
“Sorry. I thought it might help your relationship with your dads if we could tell them, beyond any doubt, that you’re
carrying an arctic fox.”
Charlie dipped his gaze.
“Tell me what you want?” I asked.
“I do want the donor to be a capuchin monkey,” he whispered. “I kinda thought you might too.”
“Tell me why?”
He looked up and stroked his fingers over my jaw, disturbing my short beard. “Then it would be like we were both
really the dads. There would be a
| | |
|