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“Good. It takes a village and all that. Is she still driving that beater?”

I blow out a breath, realizing I had puffed myself up in my agitation and protectiveness of Bambi, glad for the topic change. If it were any other person they would probably probe at my odd behavior, thankfully Jim isn’t that kind of guy.

“Yeah. Hard to convince her to get rid of anything that’s still‘functioning’.” I put air quotes around functioning because her definition is not everyone else’s definition.

“Ah well, you let me know if you get into anything too complicated and need help.”

“I will, thanks.”

He pats my shoulder and continues on his way, waving over his shoulder and calling out a goodbye as I resume my own shopping.

Who knew a trip to the auto parts store would end with me securing a job possibility? At least I’m already getting a lot done on my list. This’ll be easier than I thought. However, keeping my mouth shut about me and Bambi won’t be.

Chapter 23: Raelyn

Why is my car looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a Saab?

What the hell am I looking at? Because I’m pretty sure the last time I saw my car it was in one piece. Yet here it sits in my garage in multiple pieces. Metal parts are strewn across the shelves and floor, the hood propped open with a light hanging from it.

It looks like someone’s been working on it or dissecting it. One or the other. And I think I know exactly who to blame for this. It’s only been two days since I agreed to let Warren stay with me, and while I have very much enjoyed his presence in bed at night_no more sex yet, just cuddling_he is taking liberties with my vehicle I did not approve of.

Stomping as best I can back up the stairs to my apartment, I make sure my presence is known with a loud slam of the door. It has the desired effect, drawing Warren from the bedroom where he was getting dressed for the day. I get a glimpse of his taught tanned skin as he pulls the shirt on over his head.

“Why is my car looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a Saab?” I demand pointing angrily at the door leading downstairs.

“Oh, I hoped you wouldn’t notice so soon. I had planned to have it all fixed for you before you would need it again.”

“Well, I need it now and all I have is a husk with all its guts removed,” I pout stomping my foot.

Warren crosses the apartment and runs his large hands up and down my arms, soothing my ire. It works because his touch is my kryptonite.

“It’s okay whatever you need we can use my truck for. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. I promise it’ll only be in pieces for a little while.”

I sigh and let my head roll back on my shoulders wishing I could play rag doll. That was always my preferred way to sulk with Warren. But I can’t, not while seven months pregnant. So, I’ll have to settle for a head roll with matching pout.

“I have a doctor’s appointment this morning with my O.B.G.Y.N. here in town. I’ve been going to one in Kenai to avoid gossip but now that everyone knows, I figured it was time to go somewhere closer to home. With a doctor who would most likely be the one in the delivery room.”

Warren’s placating expression falls, and he looks downright dismayed.

“You had a doctor’s appointment, and you were going to go without me?” he sounds so dejected, and I instantly feel like an ass.

Why hadn’t I thought about asking him? Probably because I’ve gotten so used to doing these things on my own or with Izzy, I’d just forgotten.

“Oh, yeah. I made the appointment before you came back. I guess I just didn’t think…”

My words trail off because I don’t want to tell him I wasn’t thinking about him when all he’s done since he got back was think about me, about us.

“You can totally come if you want to,” I blurt out.

His sullen face is too much for me to handle and I so want him to be involved, really I do. It’s just going to take a little getting used to now that he’s here.

“Of course I want to. I always want to. Every single doctor’s appointment, Lamaze class, shopping trip. Everything.” Then he smirks. “Besides, your car is in pieces. I have to go with you because I have to drive you.”

He has a point, but my offer still stands. Having him with me would make everything less frightening. Having a partner to take part in it all, to help carry the weight of responsibility and rejoice in the happiness. I’ve felt half complete during past appointments that I had to go to alone. Not having someone there to hold my hand and cry happy tears with me made it a little less special.

“Even so, I still want you there. I always did. I just didn’t know you wanted to be there,” I admit.

“I suppose that’s mostly my fault. I didn’t exactly express my feelings for you well. Nor did I give you much reason to think I would want to. But I’m here now, and I want to be involved.”