Can't Fight It (Fair Lakes 3)

“No, let’s take a quick tour. I don’t mind feeding him on the go. In fact, I’m pretty much becoming a professional at it,” he adds with a chuckle. The deep timbre of his voice can be felt clear down to my toes.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

He waves me to follow him as he heads toward the front of the house. “This is my living room,” he says, stepping into a wide, open space. It has a couch and large television, but that’s about it. Well, besides the playpen set up in the corner of the room. The walls are painted the same taupe color as my walls, and the carpet is the same tan plush. Whoever decorated didn’t enjoy too much of a color palette.

“Back here are our bedrooms. This one is Milo’s,” he says, pushing open the door and revealing his sister-in-law.

“Oh, hey! I’m just getting some of Milo’s things put away,” she says to me before looking at Colton. “As soon as Chase gets back, he’ll help you get all this stuff put together,” she adds, pointing to the disassembled crib and changing table.

“Okay. Pizza should be here soon. Hopefully, my little brother doesn’t take his sweet-ass time at the hardware store,” Colton says, making Gabby roll her eyes.

“You know him. He’ll check out every single locking mechanism they have in stock before he makes a final decision.”

Colton snorts. “No shit. He’s worse than a woman.” Then he looks at me and nods toward the hallway. “Let’s finish this tour.”

I follow him across the hall and stop in the doorway. Colton’s room. It’s practically empty except a small mattress on the floor and a stack of boxes with some clothes piled on top of them. “This is my room. Or at least it will be when I get some furniture,” he adds with a sheepish grin.

“Well, you’ve already got more than I do,” I tell him with a laugh. My intention was a joke, but I can tell the moment my comment registers in his brain.

Colton looks at me, his blue eyes watching me closely. “You don’t have any furniture?”

I shrug. “I’m going to Second Street Treasures tomorrow to get a few things,” I tell him casually, praying he doesn’t bring up the fact that I moved here without having much of anything in tow.

He nods. “I was thinking of stopping in there too for some of the little things. My bed and dresser will be here Monday, and while my mom offered to let me have my set from my old room, I’m not really interested in a twin-sized bed and dresser with GI Joe stickers all over it. Nothing about that screams responsible adult.”

I laugh at the thought. “No, you’re probably right.”

“Come on, let’s finish up the tour before Milo needs burping.”

I follow Colton out the front door. The walkway leads to both the sidewalk out front and the driveway beside the house. There’s a two-car garage, with a wide driveway to allow two vehicles to park easily. “You’re welcome to take one of the garage bays. I’ll move my truck into the garage in a little bit and free up the space.”

“No problem. I’m parked in the street right now. I don’t mind keeping it up there,” I tell him, thinking about my older Honda Accord. It’s a few years old and has more dents and dings than a race car. Whoever owned my baby before me, definitely was rough on her.

“No need. I don’t need both spaces. You might as well utilize one,” he says, heading toward the back of the property. “Your entrance is here. I’ve got the keys on the counter inside. You’re welcome to use the backyard anytime you want. I’m hoping to put a few chairs back here, maybe a firepit or something like that too. Someday, probably a swing set,” he adds, glancing down and smiling at Milo, who’s going to town on the bottle of formula.

The yard is even bigger than it looked through the window. There’s a small lot between Colton’s place and his neighbor’s, and the whole thing is fenced in with a basic wooden privacy fence. “It’s a great yard.”

“It is. It’s part of the reason I bought it. I wanted this little guy to have plenty of running room.”

We head to the back door, and I hold it open for Colton. I catch a whiff of something woodsy as he passes, either his soap or his detergent, and the fumes go straight to my dormant lady parts. Suddenly, they’re alive and raring to go, as if waking from a long, deep hibernation. It was one thing to steal a few appreciative glances at his very nice rear, but smelling him is on a whole different playing field. Whatever it is short circuits my brain and makes my nipples tingle. I’m definitely out of my league here with this one.