Not only do I think about her, but I also find myself thinking about ways to invite her over. Reasons to knock on her door and ask her a question. Anything that gets me access to her. What’s worse is that I can’t pinpoint any one thing that makes me feel this way. Sure, she’s beautiful, but I’ve met many beautiful women in my lifetime. Is it her kind yet shy demeanor? She’s not out to seduce me, although her eyes tell a different story. Is it because she’s so good with my son? The way she holds him and talks to him as if he’s precious to her… is that it? I wish I knew. I wish I could say it’s X, Y, or Z that makes me think about her all the damn time.
I’ve got nothing.
Zero.
Zilch.
Nada.
No explanation. Just the want and the need to be around her. That’s why I’m standing outside her door, hand raised to knock. Mom called and invited Milo and me over for dinner. She insisted I pass the invitation on to Hollis as well. I half-heartedly put up a fight before giving in and promising I would invite her.
Taking a deep breath, I rap my knuckles lightly on her door. One, two, three, four heartbeats pass before she pulls the door open to greet me.
“Hey, Colton.”
“Hey, uh, do you have any plans tonight?” I manage to get the words out without swallowing my tongue. She’s wearing a pair of those tight leggings things that all the women are into, and that all men appreciate. And a sweater that hangs off her shoulder, with some kind of other shirt, looks like a tank top with really thin straps underneath. Her face is void of makeup, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. To sum her up in a word, fucking beautiful. Okay, that was two words, but you get the idea.
“No. I was just going to do some laundry.”
“Well, my parents are having dinner. Chase and Gabby will be there. They've invited you to come.” I want you to come. In more ways than one.
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You won’t be. In fact, my mother insisted I not show up unless you’re with me. They want to meet you.”
Her brow furrows. “I don’t know.”
“Milo wants you to come.” I’m aware of how desperate I sound right now.
She smiles, and it sets my world on fire. “Oh, Milo wants me to come?” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorframe.
“That’s what he said. Told me not to come back to the living room unless you had agreed to go.”
She shakes her head in amusement. “What time?”
“We’re leaving here at five.” She turns her head. I’m assuming to look at the clock. It’s four now, so that gives her an hour to get ready.
“What should I wear?” The crack in her voice tells me she’s nervous.
“You look perfect. What you have on is fine,” I rush to add.
“Are you sure? This is just for lounging.”
Lounging is sexy on you. “Yes. It’s informal. In fact, I’m almost positive Gabby will be wearing something similar.” I don’t know that, but I’ve seen her in similar items in the past. I want Hollis to feel comfortable.
“Are you sure they won’t mind?”
“Positive. Besides, my parents would never tell Milo no.” I wink, and she chuckles.
“Okay. Do you want to give me the address?”
“Why?”
“I thought I could meet you there.”
No. That won’t do. “We leave at five. I’m driving.” I take a step back from her door. “I’m going to get Milo’s bag packed.”
“You sure about this, Colton?”
I don’t know why she’s so worried, but I give her my most charming smile to try and ease her fears. “Trust me, you’re doing me a favor. My mom would complain all night that I didn’t do enough to make you feel welcome. She wants to meet you. I’m guessing because you’re a stranger living with her son and grandson.”
“Technically, I’m renting.”
“You know what I mean.”
She nods. “I’ll be ready.”
“Just come on over when you are. Don’t bother knocking or whatever.”
Another nod. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, because I’m not ready to leave her yet. I realize I’m standing here looking like a creeper, so I give her an awkward wave and flee to the kitchen. Has my time in the service really hurt my game that much? Is it because I’m a father now? I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Never in my life has a woman made me tongue-tied or nervous. I have an hour to get my head in the game. Otherwise, there will be no hiding this attraction I have for my new tenant.
An hour later, I have the diaper bag packed to the gills, with everything extra that Milo might need. He’s strapped into his car seat and smiling up at me as I rock it back and forth on the kitchen table.
“Hey.” The sweet sound of Hollis’s voice greets me.
“Hi.” I smile, looking over my shoulder at her. “You ready?”
She looks down at herself then back up at me. “Yes.” She’s still wearing the leggings, but instead of the off-the-shoulder sweater showing her soft creamy skin, she’s wearing another sweater that covers her. It’s probably for the best. I would have spent the entire night in a trance. Thinking about tracing that bare shoulder with my tongue. Then again, I still might.
“All right, I think we’re good. You ready, buddy?” I ask my son. He smiles up at me and kicks his legs. “Let’s get you covered up.” I grab the soft baby blue blanket and place it over him, making sure his face and head are covered. His little hands and legs squirm as he tries to pull it off. This is a game I play with him, hiding behind the blanket, peekaboo of sorts. I might want to rethink that now the weather is getting colder.
I pull the blanket off and say boo in my non-scary, silly dad’s voice, and he laughs. His little laugh warms my heart. “You have to keep this on, you little stinker. It’s getting cold outside, and Daddy doesn’t want you to get sick.” I place the blanket back on him, tucking it in around him, and lift his seat into my arms. I throw the diaper bag over my shoulder and check to make sure I have my phone. Good to go, I look up to find Hollis watching me intently.
“You have this single-dad thing down.”
“It’s all an act,” I tell her as we make our way out to my truck. “It’s more of a ‘fake it until you make it’ kind of situation.”
“I don’t see that at all.”
“No? I’m a better actor than I thought.”
“Stop.”
I load Milo into the truck and pull the blanket back from over his head, his eyes are already getting droopy. My boy can’t resist a ride, puts him to sleep every time. “Really,” I say once I’m behind the wheel of my truck. “I’m constantly worrying if I’m doing enough, taking good enough care of him. I don’t want to mess him up, you know?”
“First of all, that’s absurd. Do you love him?”
“Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to sound bad. What I mean is that you love him. It shows through with everything that you do. The way you hold him, the way you talk to him, the way you take care of him. No one is perfect, Colton. But at the end of the day, if you’ve done your best and you can say without a shadow of a doubt that he knows you love him, I’d say, you, sir, will have passed with flying colors as a father.” My chest inflates from her praise. I’m learning as I go, going at this mostly on my own, and it’s nice to know that someone outside my family can see that I’m trying and that I love my son with everything in me.