Page 38

No one knows I’m arriving today, or that I was even coming back at all. Not even Owen. Bambi has to be the first and it has to be in person. I have to see her. I have to hear her confirm my suspicions. Because I have no doubt she will. Even if she tries to lie to me, I’ll know.

Pulling into the harbor I tie off at an open dock, ones available for public use, avoiding the docks where the fishing boats pull in. If any of them see me, I won’t be able to get to Bambi before someone calls and tells her I’m back.

I slink past people, hiding my face with the hood of my sweatshirt. Thank fuck it’s always cold in Alaska. If I were still in Florida, wearing a hoodie and beanie with boots would stand out and people would look at me like I’m crazy.

As it is I manage to escape the docks without being stopped or recognized. I’m sure someone will recognize my boat eventually, but hopefully by then I’ve spoken with Bambi. To keep even more incognito, I use less populated side streets and back alleys to bypass the busiest areas. The ones with restaurant windows facing the street and active social areas.

I make it toThe Book Vaulteasily enough and situate myself in the shadows of the alley between buildings across the street, watching through the front window like a creeper. I need to know she’s in there before I go in. Otherwise, all the sneaking around will be for nothing, because Lauren will see me and no doubt text everyone she knows.

People go in and out of the store, but I still don’t see Bambi’s strawberry-blonde ponytail anywhere. I’m starting to wonder if she’s taken the day off and isn’t even in there at all, when the ring of a bike bell grabs my attention. And there she is. Riding down the street on her three wheeled book delivery vehicle, as she likes to call it. It’s painted bright yellow and the large basket on the back is empty. She must have gone out for deliveries. But that’s not what my attention focuses on.

Her overalls are stretched tight around her rounded belly, and I can’t stop staring at it. She really is pregnant. The small swell presses at the material, obvious but not yet fully grown. Owen wasn’t fucking with me. And her tits do look fucking fantastic, far larger than when I saw her last. Asshole. Owen shouldn’t be checking out Bambi’s boobs. There are plenty of other chests in town he can ogle that aren’t attached to her. I’m going to have to have a word with him about that.

She looks beautiful. Always has to me. I remember the last time I saw her, standing there on the dock angry with me. But I could still see her love boiling beneath the surface. She couldn’t hide it from me, even with her pinched brow and sullen eyes. She was still beautiful. Strawberry-blonde ponytail drifting in the morning wind, cheeks rosy from the cold. Fucking beautiful, just like she is now.

I can still remember the way she gasped when I slid inside her, the way she smile-scowled at me when I did something foolish, the way her lips plumped when she bit them, how her eyes became greener when aroused. Happy, angry, sad, or sleeping she’s always beautiful to me.

Her body sways back and forth slightly with her peddling, her belly getting in the way of her knees rising with the repetitive motion. It doesn’t seem to bother her though. A soft smile rests on her pinkened lips and her cheeks are rosy from the cold air and exertion.

I instantly want to bundle her up in front of a fire and bring her hot cocoa loaded with marshmallows, almost more than is acceptable, just the way she likes it. She shouldn’t be out in this cold weather in her condition. Or on her bike for that matter. She could hit a patch of melting snow or ice and fall, hurting herself and the baby.

My awe and happiness at seeing her is replaced with a strange and powerful need to protect and coddle her. Aworry I’ve never experienced making my chest clench and my breathing grow rapid. It doesn’t subside until she stops in front of the store and dismounts her bike like nothing is different than when she did it before being pregnant.

I sigh a breath of relief when I see her carefully enter the store and remove her scarf and earmuffs. Through the window I can see her greet Lauren and they speak for a moment before she starts moving about the store doing something.

For a long minute I just stand and stare, watching her go about her day. She smiles and laughs and doesn’t look at all like she misses me. But I suppose she wouldn’t while she’s working. Books are her life after all.

She stops near the front window and makes an O shape with her lips, placing a hand on her stomach then laughing, a broad smile lighting up her face. I can’t hear her laugh from across the street, but I still hear it in my head nonetheless. Her laugh is as familiar to me as my own and I’ll never forget the sound of it. The baby must have kicked. I wish I could be standing by her side feeling it. I should have been the entire time, but she never told me about it, about him.

For a moment I’m angry with her for keeping this from me. She was never going to tell me the truth, or anyone apparently, since they all think the father was a nobody. It’s going to be great gossip when the truth comes out. Because it will. If that baby is mine?which I highly think it is?I’m going to make sure everyone knows.

I’m going to make sure everyone knows the baby is mine and so is his mother. There will be no co-parenting or shared custody. We’re going to raise him together, and that’s that. She can argue all she wants but it’s happening. I don’t care where I have to live.

I wasn’t any happier on my boat thousands of miles away from here, might as well stick around now that I have a goodreason too. Though if I’m honest with myself, I always had a good reason to, I just wouldn’t admit it. I was too stubborn. I thought I knew what I needed to be happy. Now I know. I need her and I need our baby.

Determined to start moving in the right direction for once, I start by moving across the street. Crossing in fast long strides before noisily bursting through the front door of the shop.

My abrupt and sudden entrance has everyone in eyesight turning to look my way. Including the love of my life and my future baby mama.

The books in her hands are propped on top of her belly and she’s smiling when she turns. It doesn’t last long as recognition and shock settle in. The edges of her lips dropping slowly.

“Warren?” She murmurs my name and it’s the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.

Then her eyes go wide, and the books drop from her hands. She looks down at the books on the floor and then her belly before turning her wide eyes back on me.

“Oh dear. Oh, dear, oh dear, oh dear.” She’s muttering as she turns and bolts for the door that leads up to her apartment.

Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

“Bambi, wait!” I call after her, but she doesn’t stop.

She shoves open the door to the stairwell and even with her slight lead, when I step through the door, she’s barely a handful of steps up the staircase. Moving slowly but determinedly, using the handrail for balance.

“Bambi, what are you doing?” I’m at her side in two lunges, taking the stairs three at a time. “Will you stop, please?”

“Uh ugh.” She shakes her head and keeps her eyes trained on the stairs at her feet.

She ignores me the rest of the way up the stairs, but I hover close behind her with both hands held out, ready to catch her should she fall.