When the microwave dings, I grab a hand towel and retrieve my dinner without burning my hand. I pull a glass from the cabinet and fill it with tap water, taking it over to the bookshelf beside my new chair. As I grab my chicken parmesan entrée, a knock sounds on the door that separates my place and Colton’s.
I head over and disengage the new lock he installed. When I open the door, my heart gallops in my chest. Colton stands there, holding a happy Milo, who gives me a toothless, drooly grin. The older man’s eyes do a quick scan before returning to my face, and I can’t help but wonder what he sees. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a basic fitted T-shirt in an aqua color. My feet are stuffed in cozy socks, because no matter what time of year, my feet are always cold.
“Hey,” I say, running a hand over the top of my head, hoping like hell I don’t have crazy flyaways with my messy bun.
“Uh, hey.” He glances over my shoulder and smiles. “This place looks great.”
Stepping back, I give him a better view of the work I’ve put into my space today. “It’s getting there.”
He walks in and looks around, a small smile on his lips. “Love the chair,” he says, pointing to the tan-colored, oversized chair and ottoman.
“Thanks. I found some good deals today,” I tell him, trying to look around the room through his eyes. The curtains are a tan and navy chevron stripe, so I added navy rugs in the kitchen. My bedding is a blue, green, and tan floral print and will really tie the colors together when my bed arrives tomorrow.
“How did you get all of this in here?” he asks, noticing the small four-drawer dresser I have in the closet.
“Well, everything but the dresser, bookshelf, and chair and ottoman all fit in my car, and the owner of the resale shop volunteered her husband to deliver the furniture this afternoon for free.”
“Herb and Jeanette? They’re pretty awesome. I grew up with their daughter Kaitlyn,” he says, his blue eyes returning to mine.
“I tried to give him some money for his time, but he refused.”
Colton chuckles. “That sounds like Herb. I’m glad he helped you get it all in here.”
I shrug and wait him out, wondering why he dropped by tonight. I’m saved from asking when Milo lets out a holler for attention. “Oh, that’s right. Milo’s hungry. He had a big day this afternoon, didn’t you, Milo?” he asks, holding his son up and giving him a small bounce. “Little man here had his four-month doctor’s appointment, and while we had to get two shots, his doctor agreed that it’s time to start him on baby food. We’re starting with green beans tonight, aren’t we, buddy?” His blue eyes meet mine once more. “He’s very excited about this.”
I laugh as I watch Milo try to shove his entire fist in his mouth, drool hanging from his chin and dripping on his shirt. “His mouth is already watering at the thought.”
Colton glances down and wipes away the drool. “Yeah, I should probably start putting a bib on him during the day. He’s like a faucet with this drool.”
“He’s probably going to start teething soon,” I tell him.
Colton shakes his head. “Doesn’t seem possible yet. It feels like yesterday I was told I was a father to an infant.” Again, the room falls silent. “So anyway, the reason I stopped by was I thought you’d like to witness the amazing feat of feeding Milo yummy green beans for the first time. It’s sure to be a photo-worthy affair,” he says with a burst of pride. “I picked up some fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy from the deli and thought you’d like to join me.”
“Oh,” I say, glancing over at my now-cold Lean Cuisine. Honestly, it doesn’t really look as appetizing as the fried chicken he’s proposing, but my budget is pretty tight, and I don’t want to waste a meal just because I’m offered something that sounds better.
He looks over at my food, and as if he can read my mind, he suggests, “You could probably throw that in the fridge and eat it tomorrow.” When I still don’t reply, he adds, “Or not. You probably already have plans tonight.”
He’s giving me an out, but I instantly realize I don’t want it. I’d actually much rather eat chicken and watch Milo try to eat green beans for the first time, than to be here alone, reading, and eating my Lean Cuisine.
That’s probably the exact reason I should decline his offer, but I don’t. I can’t. “Umm, okay. Let me wrap this up and put it in the fridge.”
His smile could melt the glaciers in Alaska—it’s that hot. “Great! I’ll just get Milo ready in his high chair. Come over when you’re ready,” he says, heading for the door. “Oh, Hollis? Those mountain paintings are amazing. They make me want to move to some small mountainside town.”
I smile broadly. “Thanks. I thought so too.”
Colton nods. “Don’t worry about knocking. Just come in when you’re ready,” he says, and then he’s gone.
I wrap up my forgotten meal and try not to dissect the excitement I feel at heading over to Colton’s. I’ve done so well at avoiding him—forty-eight hours strong—and suddenly, I’m throwing all my hard work out the window the moment he offers me chicken. Going over there is just going to make it more difficult to separate the attraction I feel toward him and the fact he’s my landlord and shouldn’t be ogled over. Yet, here I am, heading over to ogle.
I’m a mess.
But every reason to stay away doesn’t stop me from opening the door and stepping into his living space. As soon as I do, a smile stretches wide across my face. Milo is seated in his high chair, a large bib wrapped around his neck. The little boy is banging his hand on the tray as if telling his dad to hurry up.
“Grab a plate,” Colton says without turning my way. He walks carefully to the table and takes a seat beside his son. Milo reaches for what his dad has in his hands, but isn’t able to reach it. He goes ahead and lets his dad know exactly what he thinks about that and lets out a screech. “Settle down, little man.”
I watch as Colton carefully scoops a tiny bite of the green goop from the container and moves it to his son’s mouth. Milo opens wide and closes it on the spoon. When Colton pulls it back, I’m holding my breath to see what the little boy will do. He chews and chews, spitting out just as much as was put in his mouth, and opens his mouth for more. When it doesn’t happen fast enough for his liking, Milo hollers loud.
“Okay, okay, little man. Give me a second here,” he says as he drags the spoon across Milo’s chin and moves it back to his mouth. The little guy’s eyes are wide as he eats, his arms and legs both pumping with excitement.
I grab my phone from my back pocket and snap a few pictures of this moment. Colton laughs as he tries to drag the food off Milo’s chin, but the second it’s clean, more oozes from the baby’s mouth.
Then Milo opens his mouth and blows.
And green slime sprays all over Colton.
My eyes are wide as a bubble of laughter spills from my lips. I try to cover it with a cough, but Colton looks my way, totally busting me on my laughter. He looks equally shocked at his son and my reaction to it. “You think this is funny?” The quiver in his lips tells me he agrees.