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It’s all feeling anticlimactic. I was expecting disbelief, wide eyes, possible exclamation, outbursts and, I don’t know something more dramatic. This quiet passive acknowledgement is weird.

“Can we just keep this between us for now? Bambi didn’t tell people for a reason, and I don’t want it spreading around town just yet.”

“Sure thing. Whenever you two are ready to tell everyone, you just let me know. I may be a blabber mouth, but you can trust me, Warren. You’re my best friend and I’ll do whatever you need.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and shoot Owen a grateful smile.

“Okay, well…what now?” I ask. I was expecting a lot longer conversation than this and am stumped as how to proceed.

“Now we drink to your return, and I’ll help you come up with ideas on how to woo Raelyn,” he says with a shit eating grin.

“Yes, because we all know how good you are at wooing,” I deadpan.

“I am an excellent wooer.” He sits up straight and places a hand to his chest like a Victorian dandy.

“Bullshit.” I toss a handful of pretzels at his face, and he opens his mouth to catch them like a child. Excellent wooer my ass.

“Well then, what are you going to do if you’re so much better?”

WhatamI going to do? I suppose fulfilling the promises I’ve already mentioned would be a good start. Bring her whatever foods she’s craving, drive her to her doctor’s appointments, rubher feet. But to do all those things I have to be near her, with her. I can’t very well do them sitting here in the bar drinking beer.

I make a plan to go to her first thing tomorrow and start my wooing. I’ll bring her breakfast, run her errands, clean her apartment. I wonder if she’s already gotten a crib for the baby. I could assemble one if we need it. What else do babies need? Diapers. Clothes. I’m sure there’s more than that. Perhaps I should pick up aWhat to Expect When You’re Expectingbook. Is that something Bambi would have at her store? I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Chapter 19: Raelyn

Tattooed sexy-man pheromones

For some reason I thought things would be different after Warren returned yesterday, but they seem to be mostly the same. I wake up at my normal time, shower and get dressed, crunch on a few pickles for breakfast, and head downstairs. The only difference is Lauren asking me questions about Warren’s return. Most of which I can’t answer, and a few I choose to play ignorant. I can’t really admit I know he came back because he found out I was having his baby.

I’m standing at the register checking out a customer when the bell above the door rings and I call out my customary greeting.

“Good morning, welcome toThe Book Vault.”I’m about to continue with offering assistance finding what they’re looking for, when I glance up to see it’s none other than Warren entering the store.

This time I’m not as caught off guard. I kind of figured he would be back soon, just not this soon. In his hand he’s carrying a white paper bag that smells heavenly.

“Good morning,” he says, waving his free hand at me and nearly knocking me over with his bright smile.

I knew fishermen were morning people, but he’s way too cheerful right now. Regardless I have to admit, I like seeing himhere and smiling with his handsome face, thick wild hair and two-day old scruff on his chin. If only it were warm enough for him to roll up his sleeves and flash me those beautiful tattoos of his, then we’d be talkin’ naughty fantasy come to life.

Thinking about his tattoos brings into stark relief an image of Warren shirtless and enlightening me on his chest tattoos true meaning. The thought has me clearing my throat and refocusing my attention on the customer in front of me.

I finish ringing them up, and as soon as they’re gone, Warren is leaning over the check-out counter and sliding the bag across to me. I smell warm baked goods and butter.

“I brought you every flavor they had. I wasn’t sure which you would be craving.”

Leaning over to peek inside the bag, there are half a dozen croissants sitting inside. Plain, chocolate chip, strawberry filled, glazed, apple cinnamon, and one covered in almond slices…ew. I pluck out the apple cinnamon, deftly avoiding the almond one, and take a hearty bite.

“Mmm. Oh my god, thank you. I’m so hungry. Although I’m always hungry these days so that’s no surprise.”

Warren chuckles and leans on his elbows watching me with a grin plastered across his face. I slow my chewing and check around the edges of my mouth to make sure nothing's sticking to my face.

“I’m glad you like them. Later I’ll get you lunch too. Whatever you want.”

My eyes go wide and, because half of what I think about these days is food, I’ve already got a craving for lunch. Which will probably change by lunch time.

“A bacon cheeseburger with maple syrup and peanuts, with pickles on the side soundsamazing.”

Normally when someone hears the weird concoction I’m craving they cringe. Not Warren. He only shakes his head andchuckles, like he’s heard it all before and it doesn’t completely gross him out to consider eating it.