feed anyone and everyone, I might think that she and Dad are on some kind of mission to marry me off. I agree to take home the leftovers, but keep quiet on her comment to share them with Hollis. It’s not that I don’t want to share, but steering clear of her is the better option for me.
I help Mom clean up, change Milo’s diaper, and head home. I make two trips—the first with the diaper bag, and the leftovers, the second with my boy. The entire drive home, I think about what my dad said. I need to just get to know her and see what happens. Maybe once I spend more time with her, she’ll annoy the hell out of me, and wanting her will no longer be an issue. Even as I think it, I know that’s not going to be the case.
Parking my truck in the driveway, I see Hollis’s car. Somehow, I manage to carry Milo in his seat, the diaper bag, and the leftovers without dropping any of it. With my arms carefully unloaded, I remove Milo from his seat and place him in the swing. He’s snoozing away from our drive, and I hope he stays that way for at least another twenty minutes because as soon as we got into the house, I remembered that I need to install the lock on Hollis’s door.
Grabbing the lock from the drawer in the kitchen, and the small toolkit from the counter, I head through the laundry room and knock on her door. She opens immediately, wearing a kind smile.
“Hi, Colton.”
“Hey, I need to install your lock. Is now a good time?” I hold up the lock like an idiot as if I need to prove to her, that’s why I’m knocking on her door.
“Sure. I was just lounging.” She pulls open the door, and I see one of those fold-up lawn chairs, you know, the kind that you can shove into a bag and sling over your shoulder, and some kind of tablet sitting on a blanket on the floor.
I don’t know what it is, but something primal pulls inside me. “You can lounge in the living room.”
“This is fine, Colton.”
“It’s not fine. You can lounge on the couch,” I say again. “In fact, you should take my bed tonight, and I’ll take the couch.”
“No. No way am I taking your bed. I have lots of blankets. It’s fine. I ordered a mattress today and found a cheap frame at the secondhand store. I should have them here in a week.”
“What? You can’t sleep on the floor for a week.”
“I can, and I will.”
I shake my head and turn my back to her. Instead of focusing on how to get her to see things my way, I get busy installing the lock. I’m almost finished when Milo lets out a cry. “Dammit,” I mutter.
“Do you mind if I get him?”
“Thank you. He’s probably hungry.”
“Time for a bottle?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m almost done,” I say, but it’s to her back. She’s already headed to the living room to take care of my son. For the second time today.
Finishing with the lock, I test it to make sure it works properly. Picking up my trash and my tools, I make my way back to the kitchen. Looking toward the couch, I see Hollis, sitting with Milo in her arms, while she feeds him a bottle.
“It was in the diaper bag.”
“Thank you.” My mind keeps telling me I’m letting this strange woman handle and now feed my son. However, my gut tells me she would never do him any harm. As long as I’m here with her until I get to know her better, it’s fine.
“I don’t mind. He’s such a good baby.”
“That’s what they tell me. I mean, I think he’s perfect, but I’m biased. I have nothing to go off of. I’ve never really spent much time around kids. Life in the military will do that to you.”
“Well, he’s an angel,” she says softly, not taking her eyes off my son.
“Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“My mom sent leftovers. I’ll heat you up a plate.” I need something to do besides stare at her holding my baby boy.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Trust me, and you’ll be thanking me once you taste it.” I busy myself heating her up a plate and set it on the table. “I can take him so you can eat.”
“You sure?”
I smile at her. “Yes. I’m sure. Thank you for helping