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“You’re welcoht, Hollis”

“Night,” I reply brightly, barely glancing over my shoulder as I close the mashed potato container

The mo Jeez, Hollis, get yourself together You can’t act like a crazy, lovesick teenager every time he’s near

I finish closing the containers and seal the chicken in a baggie After a quick rinse of the washcloth, I wipe down the reen beans on the top of the tray, and the bottom I find the dirty bib and toss it in the washer Once I clean off the table, I take the soiled washcloth and throw it in the washing machine

I rereen food all over both Milo and Colton’s shirts and knoon’t be long before it stains the ht, I head through the kitchen and down the short hall

“Hey, Colton, if you want, I can throw the dirty clothes in the—” I stop dead in my tracks, the words evaporate from my lips

Colton steps out of Milo’s roo but a pair of basketball shorts The baby is naked too, wearing only a diaper, but lued to his chest His wonderfully nificent, perfect chest It’s hard and muscular, with definition that only comes from hard work and labor

My God, this man is…

“Hollis?”

I blink And blink again

Is he speaking?

“What?”

I can’t stop staring at his chest

“Did you need so?” he asks, the humor very evident in his voice