Holding: Playmaker Duet (Prescott Family Book 5) Page 9

  When Porter unlocked the door, Caine came barreling at us. With a smile, I dropped to my knees and allowed the large pup to run into my arms, his tongue on my face as I squeezed my eyes—my face—tight.

  “Hello, Caine. I’ve missed you,” I told him.

  “C’mon, Caine, in the house, bud,” Porter said above us and I stood tall, grabbing my bag and stepping into the house.

  I knew he’d sent back my things, but I wasn’t prepared for how bare the place looked now.

  Gone were the pictures from the walls.

  I pinched my lips together and had to look around, trying to find a wall, something, that wouldn’t have me sad with what I tried to give up.

  Porter, who had moved into the house and was dropping his keys onto the counter, looked over his shoulder at me. “I couldn’t look at them,” he admitted quietly and I nodded.

  What else could I do? How else could I respond?

  “We can put them back up,” he added and I nodded again.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to shower.”

  Again, I nodded then watched as he took off down the small hallway to the master bedroom.

  Caine had moved off to his dog pillow in the living room, happily gnawing on an antler. I propped my bag against the wall that once housed all the canvas prints of us and the rest of the family. I brushed my hand along the currently bare wall and sighed.

  Walking into the kitchen, I saw Caine’s bowl water bowl was empty. I bent down and, while his food bowl was empty, the lingering smell had my stomach rolling.

  I puffed out my cheeks and tried to fight the nausea.

  I’d been feeling iffy the last few weeks, but it really took a front seat these last two days.

  It had to be stress.

  Just stress.

  After the feeling left, I stood with his bowl and filled it, returning it to the mat. I leaned against the counter and looked around, at once feeling both at home, and out of place. I didn’t know what to do.

  I heard the shower turn off, followed by a thump and a loud curse.

  Eyes wide, I pushed away from the counter and raced down the hall, pushing into the bedroom. “Porter?”

  I hesitated by the bathroom door, rapping my knuckles against it instead of pushing through. “Porter? Are you okay?”

  “I just fucking caught my bad leg on the lip of the tub,” I heard him mumble. “Fuck, that hurts.”

  I pulled my lips in and rested my head on the door. “Can I do something for you?”

  “Yeah. Google fucking reno people who can take out fucking ancient shower-tub combos.” He continued to mumble something under his breath and, feeling helpless, I stepped back to sit on the bed.

  The room was nearly how it was the last time I’d been in it. My nightstand was now empty of any knickknacks, but Porter’s still had his Bri-bear.

  And the small square picture of us.

  My eyes filled with tears again and I moved to sit on his side of the bed, picking it up. He removed everything but this picture.

  When the bathroom door opened, my head shot up, my eyes locking on his. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said grumpily. He’d put on sweatpants but nothing else before emerging from the bathroom, and now he limped over to me, plopping down next to me with a groan. I looked down at his leg, trying to determine if he had his brace on or not.

  “Yes, it’s on.”

  I lifted my brows and looked up at him.

  “I just overdid it yesterday, and catching my foot on the tub didn’t help matters.”

  “Okay.” I regarded him before asking, “Will you be able to play at all this season? I know Avery said it was likely, but what do your therapists say?”

  “I should be able to. I’ll be starting an aggressive PT schedule next week so long as I don’t fuck it up before then. I’m serious, that tub has to go.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t know that Jane will go for that kind of remodel, Porter,” I said, speaking of our landlady.

  His face turned into a sheepish grin before he looked away. “Yeah, well. We own the place now.”

  My brows rose quickly. “You bought it?”

  He shrugged and looked down, his fingers picking at his pants. “Yeah. It was your wedding gift.”

  “Oh, Porter,” I whispered and he turned his head toward me, his grin having gone sad.

  “It’s good,” he said, blowing it off. “Are you going to shower or are we going to the store now?”

  I ought to shower. I ought to buy myself time.

  Instead, I swallowed hard. “I guess we should just get this done.”

  I sat on the bathroom floor in front of her, my left leg extended straight while my good knee was bent up. I held three tests in my hand as Asher sat on the toilet in front of me.

  “I can’t pee with you watching.”

  “Just piss, Asher.”

  She scowled down at me before grabbing the tests. To be completely positive, we—okay, so I—grabbed two different tests that gave lines in response, and another that clearly stated Pregnant or Not Pregnant.

  “What if I don’t have enough pee?”

  “Just pinch it off.”

  That earned me a full glare and I couldn’t help but grin up at her.

  “Close your eyes.”

  I rolled them first before doing as she asked, resting my head back on the wall.

  “You could probably plug your ears too.”

  “Just pee.”

  I heard her mumble under her breath a few seconds before the sound of the stream hitting the porcelain bowl filled the room. I heard the stream break and could picture her moving the tests under her.

  I wasn’t dumb enough to think that now that the last hurdle was cleared, things were going to be golden and gravy between us. I still had the slightest of fears that she’d do her running act again.

  But if she was pregnant…

  Fuck, I wanted her to be pregnant.

  “Okay,” she said and I opened my eyes to catch her putting her leggings in place before flushing then stepping over my foot to wash her hands. “I can’t look at them.”

  I pushed myself up to stand and reached for the tests.

  One had a ticker on it, another we had to wait three minutes, and the third had a five-minute wait time.

  The ticker one was already half way there.

  “Come here,” I said, reaching for Asher’s hand and pulling her out of the bathroom. At our bed, I placed the tests down on my nightstand and sat against the headboard, bringing her between my legs. Asher’s back was to my chest as I wrapped my arms around her.

  “I’m scared they’ll say I’m pregnant,” she admitted quietly.

  “I’m scared they’ll say you’re not.”

  My grip around her tightened when she tried to pull away. Instead, she turned her head to look at me. “You want them to be positive?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think the timing is all that great, no, but yeah. Yeah, I’d love for you to be pregnant.” It would certainly ease that last lingering fear of her leaving.

  She took a deep breath. “You’re not scared? Of having a baby?”

  I chuckled. “A little bit, yeah. But we were eventually going to get there, weren’t we?” We’d never talked about kids.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her words soft.

  “You’ll be an excellent mother, Asher,” I told her, reading between the lines. “You’re great with Cael’s kids, with Ella. The kids you take pictures of.” I squeezed her a little tighter. “And nothing you went through, will ever touch our kids.”

  “Plural.”

  Grinning, I pressed my lips to her temple. “Maybe one at a time.”

  She sighed heavily, letting her breath out through tight lips. I could feel the energy rolling off her. “Okay. Check the one.”

  I reached over the grab the ticker test.

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  My hand stopped mid-
reach and I looked at her. “Seriously?”

  Asher’s eyes were squeezed shut and I watched as she struggled to take deep breaths. Finally, she settled back into me. “Okay. I’m okay.”

  I grabbed the test then and brought it in front of us.

  This was the one that would spell it out in words.

  I put the result panel against my palm, closing my fist over it before moving my hand in front of her again.

  “Ready?”

  Her breath hiccupped but she nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Alright.”

  With my arms in front of her, I unfisted my hand and turned the test forward.

  “Pregnant,” I whispered, emotion completely overtaking me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

  “Yeah?” Asher’s voice was watery and I looked down to see she’d closed her eyes.

  “Open your eyes, beautiful.”

  She did and again, her breath hitched as she saw the word in front of her. “Oh God.”

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  She nodded a few times and swallowed. “Okay. Alright. That’s one. Maybe it’s wrong. How much time do we have?”

  “Thirty seconds.”

  “Okay. Alright.”

  I put the test down and wrapped one arm around her again, pressing her back into me. I could feel her heart pounding against her chest.

  She really was terrified.

  “We’ve got this, Asher. You and me? We’ve got it.”

  She nodded again. “Okay. The next one.”

  I kissed the back of her head before reaching for the three-minute test.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled in front of me. “That’s two lines. That was pregnant, wasn’t it?”

  I couldn’t help it, I grinned into the back of her head, nodding as my lips rubbed against her hair. “Yeah, baby. That’s positive.”

  The next two minutes were long, but only because Asher dug her nails into my forearm.

  Me, though? I was over the moon ecstatic. I didn’t need the third one to tell me what the other two did.

  We were having a baby.

  Asher had a little something of both of us, resting in her belly. I wanted to fucking cry, I was so damned excited.

  “Ready?” I asked her when the last of the countdown ended. I reached for the third test.

  “It says pregnant, doesn’t it?”

  I pulled it in front of us and looked at it. It was the generic test and the directions weren’t as clear-cut as the other two, but…

  “Yeah, Asher. It says we’re pregnant.”

  “We’re having a baby.” Her voice dropped and while still ringing with nerves, I could hear a hint of wonder in her words.

  “Yeah, Ash. We’re having a baby.”

  I was living out of my suitcase, but that was okay because I couldn’t manage to want to put on clothes other than leggings and oversized shirts—if I could even get out of my sleep shirt.

  I had been absolutely miserable all week, to the point that Porter threatened to take me to urgent care.

  “It’s just morning sickness,” I told him more than once as I was camped out over the toilet or a wastebasket.

  What I once thought was a stomach bug, turned into full-fledged, couldn’t-keep-anything down.

  Let’s not even talk about when I had to feed Caine, or if Porter put on aftershave.

  Every little thing was sending me to the bathroom.

  Porter was the worst kind of mother hen, and I was thankful that today after physical therapy, he was going to the rink to watch practice. I had my first appointment a little later in the afternoon, which I was sure he was more excited about than I was.

  Every night this week, we lay in bed and he couldn’t keep his hands off my still-flat stomach. The more he talked to me, talked to my belly, the more excited I was about this next adventure in our lives, but it was hard to stay excited when I was physically ill most of the day.

  I lay in bed, curled on my side in the only position that my stomach seemed to be calm in the last few days. Playing around on my phone, I sent a text to Avery.

  Are you going to be in Wisconsin?

  I put my phone down, not thinking she’d be around to answer it anytime soon. I closed my eyes but no sooner than I did, my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I asked, not bothering to open my eyes and look at the caller ID.

  “Are you staying?” It was Avery.

  “I think so.” I shook my head. “No. Yes, I’m staying.”

  The girliest squeal came through the line, a sound I didn’t equate to Avery in the least.

  “I’m so happy!”

  I chuckled lightly.

  “Do you need me to send back your stuff? You didn’t unpack it all, did you? I mean, I can repack it. Or maybe you and Porter can make it up here? I know Porter needs to be a bigger presence with the team, but maybe you can take a day trip.”

  My stomach rolled and I groaned.

  No reason.

  There was no reason for it.

  There weren’t any smells around me, I hadn’t eaten since before Porter left and he stuffed a dry piece of toast in my face—which, of course, came back up. Even Caine wasn’t allowed in the bedroom, because sometimes his paws set off the queasiness.

  “We’re going to be busy,” I said instead. I couldn’t even imagine being on a plane with this going on.

  “I’ll definitely get it all together for you. Oh, my God, I’m so excited. Have you guys decided on a new date for the wedding?”

  I swallowed back the quick lump in my throat.

  We hadn’t even talked about marriage.

  I had no idea where my ring was and now, with our present situation, wasn’t sure a wedding was anywhere near our current radar.

  “No,” I finally said. “We’re just worried about appointments right now,” I partially lied.

  I mean, I had appointments in there too, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

  I let Avery talk my ear off a little bit longer and eventually she had to go. I hung up the call and closed my eyes, but Caine let out a whine from the other side of the door.

  “Alright, bud,” I mumbled, pushing myself up to sit. I gave myself a minute to gather my bearings before walking across the room.

  I opened the door and Caine immediately leaned into my legs. Smiling lightly, I reached down to scratch behind his ears in his thick mane. “Go outside?”

  Caine darted away from me and I walked cautiously down the hall and to the back door, where I let him out. My stomach growled but I was terrified to eat anything. When it growled again, I checked to be sure Caine was alright in the fenced-in yard, and moved to find something that sounded appealing.

  I opened the fridge and my stomach rolled at the choices in there.

  I moved to the pantry, and I had to fight the rising bile.

  Toast, it was.

  Nico dropped me off at the house after practice, just in time for me to grab Asher and head to her appointment.

  “You up to grilling tonight?” Nico asked as I pulled myself down out of the truck.

  I shook my head. “Asher and I have plans. But we’ll see you Thursday.” I was bursting at the seams to tell someone, anyone, our news, but Asher and I decided to wait. We didn’t know how far along she was—eleven weeks, minimum—and wanted to be sure everything was okay before we told the world.

  I didn’t know how I was going to sit through the team Thanksgiving on Thursday without telling someone.

  I headed into the house and was momentarily confused at the lack of greeting. Looking beyond the open concept, I saw Caine sitting at the sliding glass door, waiting to be let in.

  I made my way over to let him in, noting a piece of toast on the table with a single bite taken out of it.

  Fuck.

  “Ash?” I closed the sliding door behind Caine and made my way to the bedroom, not even bothering to look at the bed and, instead, moved straight into the bathroom.

  She was sleeping on the floor.

  “Asher.”


  I bent to a kneel, grimacing at the tightness. I cataloged the feelings, and once I was sure there wasn’t pain, I reached out to brush a loose hair from her face. “Asher.”

  Her eyes opened slowly and she tried to give me a tired smile.

  “Have you kept anything down today?”

  She pushed up to sit and shook her head. “No. Maybe some water.”

  I ground my molars together. This couldn’t be normal.

  Thank God, we were seeing her OB.

  “Come on, beautiful. Let’s brush your teeth and go ask some questions.”

  “It’s just morning sickness.”

  I ground my teeth together and Asher squeezed my hand from her perch on the exam table. “She’s lost twelve pounds, though.” I should have noticed that, and when the doctor mentioned she’d lost that much weight, I was instantly alarmed. Wasn’t she supposed to be gaining weight?

  “And she’ll gain them right back in the next month or so.” Asher’s OB turned to address her now. “Other than feeling sick, how do you feel?”

  “Okay.”

  The doctor made some notes in her laptop before smiling at Asher. “Are you ready to see your bean?”

  Asher, with her lips between her teeth in the way she did, nodded. I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed it.

  The doctor wheeled over a computer-on-wheels—which I realized was the ultrasound machine—and had Asher lay back. After pulling her shirt up, then tucking what looked like paper towel in the top of Asher’s leggings, she squeezed gel on Asher’s lower stomach.

  It constricted at the feeling, and I could see her hip bones, much more pronounced than I had seen them before.

  I couldn’t stop from beating myself up over not noticing.

  Hell, she hadn’t fucking eaten in a week. No shit, she’d lost weight.

  Asher squeezed my hand again and I looked down at her. She gave me a wobbly smile and I leaned down to kiss her lips softly once.

  “Alright, guys.” The sound of a thick static filled the room, along with watery whomp whomp noises. I looked to the screen but didn’t know what I was looking for. The doctor hit keys on her keyboard a number of times before saying, “We’re measuring at twelve weeks.” Then, the fast patter of noise came through, with a fluttering on the screen. “And that’s a heartbeat.”