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“Damn, I need Trent to be around,” Matt muttered, as though meaning those words for himself.
“I heard you’re having trouble with a cartel hitman, Grace,” Colt leaned slightly over his horse so he could look at me.
“Unfortunately,” I said nonchalantly. “I’ve had such luck lately.”
“Well, yeah, look how you’re stuck with Matt,” Colt winked at me.
Though Matt was facing Colt, I could hear the scowl in his voice. “Don’t you have some work to do, Montgomery?”
Colt laughed and tipped his hat. “I sure do. Later.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Matt
“Everything looks good, Grace.”
Doctor Fern Ryan pocketed the stethoscope in her medical coat. “I’ve reviewed your files from Edington General. It’ll take me several days to run these additional blood panels.”
“And my gestation period would be normal?”
“We’re not an ‘other’ species you know,” Matt grumbled.
A smile lightened the austere doctor’s face. “An ES subject is every bit as human as you and I. The surrogates do carry the fetus to full-term. In fact, they need all that time to develop. The ES gene is strong. In short, I wouldn’t be surprised if your baby or babies will be a carbon-copy of Matt or Kate.”
“I don’t care who the baby will look like. I just want to know if he or she will be healthy?” Grace asked.
“Absolutely. Since the fetus was conceived naturally and has not undergone genetic manipulation, it would not be born with enhanced capabilities, but would simply inherit the non-modified gene traits of his parents. He would not undergo the withdrawal that has plagued the ES upon reaching the age of twenty-four. ES were sourced from a superior gene pool. Your baby will simply be ‘more’.”
Grace nodded, the anxiety on her face eased to a degree.
“Aren’t you supposed to do some kind of ultrasound or something?” Matt asked the agency doctor. Fern Ryan wasn’t a stranger to the folks of Misty Grove. Montgomery Ranch was, in reality, a rehabilitation center for injured CIA operatives. The horse ranch worked as a perfect cover because their equine companions proved to be great mental, physical, and emotional therapy for wounded warriors. The secondary building, which was in addition to the ranch house called The Annex, was where most of their ‘visitors’ stayed. The Annex had six bedrooms, a living area, a kitchenette, and the room they were in was outfitted with medical equipment and served as a clinic.
“I told you, the baby is not even the size of a pea right now,” Grace smiled indulgently.
“Maybe after another 4 weeks,” Doctor Ryan said. “Are you good on prenatal vitamins?”
“Yes, I put in an online order.”
Matt frowned. “Edington is 20 minutes away. I could have gotten you some. Didn’t John have it?”
“Misty Grove isn’t exactly a family town,” the doctor answered for Grace. “I doubt John Crowder would stock up on prenatal vitamins at his store. I will, however, give you a special formulation after your first trimester.”
“So, she’s physically fine otherwise? No problems having sex?” Matt asked bluntly.
Grace’s face flushed pink as her mouth fell open in embarrassment. “Matt!”
Doctor Ryan regarded him through narrowed eyes although he didn’t miss the gleam of amusement. “No, Matthew, Grace is perfectly fine to have sexual intercourse. The embryo, and later the fetus, are protected very well by the uterus. Unless you have sexual proclivities that involve flogging the pelvis with a cane, there’s nothing in Grace’s medical history that would put her at risk of a miscarriage. If, indeed, you do have other deviant sexual behavior, I regret it’s beyond my expertise. I would, however, suggest Google.”
Grace covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. His woman’s eyes danced merrily as the Doctor coolly addressed his concerns. Well,fuck, it was a valid query, and as far as he was concerned, very critical. He couldn’t imagine zero sex with Grace for the remaining eight months, not when the thought of her belly swollen with child made him hard like an iron poker.
One would think the thought of becoming a father would send him running. It had the opposite effect. It made him fiercely possessive, protective, and intensely territorial.Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Thanks, Doc,” Matt smirked.
Doctor Ryan shook her head briefly as a ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Anything else, Grace? Matthew?”
They both answered no.
