“I’m holding a baby,” Colton notes, moving Milo and using him as a human baby shield.
“I see that,” I reply, patting my snowball to keep it from falling apart.
“You wouldn’t,” he adds, dancing to the left.
I shrug. “Not while you’re holding Milo.”
Slowly, he crouches down and sets his son back against the backrest of the sled and straps him in securely. Then, he stands up and locks eyes with mine as a seductive smile spreads across his gorgeous face. Suddenly, he moves, throwing his arms around my waist and putting his shoulder into my chest. It’s not hard, but it catches me off guard, especially when he hoists me up in the air, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I wail his name, which sounds odd considering I’m giggling too.
“Any final words you’d like to share, Holls?” he asks, dramatically spinning me around.
“Don’t you dare,” I start, but the rest of the sentence is lost when I start to fall. No, not fall, per se, because I’m still in Colton’s arms, but we do fall. Together. His body taking the brunt of the weight as we land and roll.
When we stop moving, he’s lying directly on top of me, my head cradled in his gloved hands as our bodies align so perfectly from head to toe. I shiver, but not from the cold snow pressed against my back. I shiver from the desire laced in his eyes, and the warmth of his breath tickling my dry lips.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I whisper, gripping the back of his coat.
“You were going to throw a snowball at me.”
“Allegedly.”
Colton smiles and presses his lips to my own, the heat of his skin against mine a welcome jolt to my senses. He sweeps his tongue inside my mouth, tasting and savoring our connection. A jolt of lightning strikes through my veins as his thumb grazes across the apple of my cheek, his teeth nipping at my full bottom lip.
Milo starts to cry. We both look over as the baby rubs his eyes, a sign he’s done with the great outdoors. With a chaste kiss to my lips, Colton rolls over and gets up, unbuckling the belt and taking his son in his arms. Together, the three of us make our way to the house.
“I have an idea,” Colton says as he shuts the door behind us. “I’m going to get this guy a bottle and down for a nap. When you get warm and dry, come back over here, and I’ll make dinner.”
“Dinner, huh?” I ask, taking off my wet gloves and throwing them on the dryer.
“Steak and baked potatoes,” he confirms as he starts to strip Milo’s winter snowsuit and layers.
“Sounds delicious. Can I bring anything?”
He shrugs out of his own coat while juggling a baby who’s getting more upset by the second. “Just yourself,” he replies, kicking off his boots. He seems to forgo the removal of his overalls, choosing to take care of his son first. “I’m going to get him some food,” he says just before he places a kiss on my lips and turns to leave the laundry room.
I stay behind, laying out our wet clothes so they can dry. When that’s done, I slip quietly into my apartment and shut the door. In the kitchen, I warm some milk in the microwave and pour a packet of powdered hot cocoa into a mug. When the drink is ready, I take my favorite unicorn mug and head to my chair. Heat spreads through me as I sip the chocolaty treat and catch the familiar scent of Colton’s detergent still clinging to his sweatshirt. Like a lunatic, I bring the shirt to my nose and inhale deeply.
I may have to keep this.
Smiling, I reach for my laptop and fire it up. I have a few more hours of work on my current job, with a few new ones waiting in the wings. Plus, I need to meet with Gabby soon to finalize the All Fit Gym website for publication. I’m excited for it to go live.
My email has five new messages since I last checked, two of which are junk phishing messages. One is from my website host for my annual renewal and another a notification from my bank about a payment to hit my account. That makes me happy. I’ll be able to pick up a few more things for my apartment soon, including a small two-seater table for the kitchenette.
Smiling, I click on the fifth email, a contact from my website, and find myself unable to pull oxygen into my lungs. Tears burn my eyes as I stare at the words marring my screen.Contact: [email protected]
Message: I’m getting closer, Hollis. Soon. I’ll see you soon.I’m not sure what’s more unsettling: the fact he’s still sending me messages after I disappeared a few months ago or that he’s actually getting close.