Page 28 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

I’ve got no ideawhatwe are, outside ofnow expecting a new baby.

Before I make any big decisions and tell Jackson about the news, I have to figure that out. I need to know what we are, so I know how to handle things.

And I need to figure it out fast.

Chapter thirteen

Jackson

“Thereyouare!”I’vebarely managed to catch Amanda in the parking lot, outside of her van. She looks less happy to see me than I had been expecting. Earlier in the day I had asked Cara about her and was told that Amanda was simplyin a bad mood right now.

It looks like that’s correct.

“I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry,” she says and glances over her shoulder, as though expecting someone else to come out after me. “I was in a bit of a rush today.”

“You’ve been in a rush the last few days,” I say.

Amanda shrugs. “I was covering a few shifts for Cara. I think that she’s seeing someone.”

It’s more than that, and I know it.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to keep the concern out of my voice. It’s felt like things have changed this week, though I don’t know why. We had a good, solid relationship, and suddenly it feels shaky and uneven beneath my feet.

Amanda nods and pulls open the driver’s side door. “It’s fine. I was just, you know, in a hurry. I’m going over to get dinner with Harris and my parents tonight.”

I nod. “Wish them well for me, will you?”

“Sure.” She climbs into the car and pulls the door shut. The window is rolled down.

I rest my hand on the opening and ask her, “What about dinner at my house tomorrow? Bonnie has a new song, and I’ve been informed that she’s only going to play it when we’re both there at the same time.”

“Sorry,” says Amanda, “I’ve got plans. Some other time, alright?”

She doesn’t offer any explanation, and I’m smart enough to know not to push. I just nod and let her pull out of the parking lot, making my way over to my car. During the drive back home, I find it impossible not to roll things around in my head and try to figure out exactly what might be going on with her.

Far as I can tell, I haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing has changed, at least on my end. Have I beentooaffectionate? I thought that we were both on the same path, moving toward making this an official relationship, and not just… whatever it might have started out as.

More nights have been spent just sleeping in each other’s arms than spent sleepingwitheach other.

By the time that I pull into the front drive, I’m still at a loss as to what might have upset her. I don’t think that I’ve said or done anything the last few days that might have been off-putting. I certainly haven’t been trying to upset her.

But she certainly seems upset.

“I just need a shower and a drink. That will clear my head,” I mumble and step out of the car. I’ve barely made it into the house before Bonnie is physically launching herself at me over the back of the couch.

I scoop her into my arms in a smooth motion and heft her about in a sharp circle.

“There’s my girl,” I shout.

Bonnie laughs and throws her arms around my neck. “You’re home for dinner!”

“I’m home for dinner,” I tell her, agreeably. “What’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti and garlic bread!” Bonnie says. It’s her favorite. She likes it so loaded down with shredded mozzarella that the pasta sticks together.

“It sounds delicious. Let me go get changed, alright? And then we’ll have dinner together,” I tell her. “Let your nanny know that I’m home, alright?”

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