Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

Colton Family Showdown

Автор
Год написания книги
2019
<< 1 ... 8 9 10 11 12
На страницу:
12 из 12
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

“What does that mean?” he demanded as he pulled into a parking space in front of the store. “I’m not good at this.”

“Talking?” she queried.

“Yeah.” It was at the top of the list of things he handled poorly.

Her auburn eyebrows, several shades darker than her hair, scrunched up when she frowned. It was pretty cute instead of intimidating. He should not be noticing those details and he absolutely shouldn’t be charmed by them.

“You’re great at talking. I’ve seen videos of your lectures.”

“I can talk horses and genetics until people pass out from boredom. People themselves, small talk and all the rest of it, I’d rather avoid,” he confessed.

“Wow.” She blinked several times. “That’s... Wow.”

He decided he didn’t want any clarification on the “wow.” “I’m overtired and overwhelmed.” He took a deep breath. “Like I said, don’t worry about the budget. Let’s just get in there, do what needs done and get back to the ranch.”

She straightened her shoulders so abruptly he thought she might give him a salute. “Count on me.”

He carried Baby John in the car seat, hoping that would make it easier for her to gather what she deemed necessary for baby care. He sure didn’t know the difference between one type of bottle and another or the benefit of zipper pajamas over the ones with a thousand snaps.

The last time he’d been this close to baby gear was when his sister had been expecting. For Wyatt and Bailey, he’d shopped online and had the gift and a gift card delivered to their house. He’d never thought he’d be bringing baby gear into his home.

He followed Kelsey through the store section by section as she added items to the cart. This wasn’t at all how he’d shop for a baby, given the choice. This wasn’t how he’d do anything, actually. He preferred to research, skim consumer reviews and dig deep into product testing and results. After several minutes of watching her, he realized she wasn’t just shopping according to her list. She seemed to be mentally going through her anticipation of Baby John’s day. She chose more bottles, similar to what had been dropped off with him. She found diapers in his size and picked up a box of the next size up. They had a quick debate about the convenience and necessity of a changing table. He finally agreed because it looked like the shelves would be a good place to stow the baby’s supplies.

Cruising through the bedding options, she turned to him. “I don’t think you should invest in a real crib and he’s too big for a cradle.”

“You want to keep him in the hay bin?”

“No.” She drew out the word and then her rosy lips pursed. “I’m thinking one of these things.”

He belatedly realized they were standing in front of a display of portable cribs that boasted all sorts of features and colors. He wanted to cover his eyes or run away.

“It’s safe, removes the hassle of assembling a real crib and we can take it to and from the office. Also saves you money and a potential fight later.”

“Fight?” What the hell was she talking about?

“Well, the safe bet is that someday your wife will want to decorate a nursery without hand-me-downs.”

“I’m not married.” Wives typically expected children and he had no intention of taking that leap.

Kelsey cocked her head. “Not now. I just...”

He latched onto the more immediate concern of having the baby in the office. “Get two,” he said brusquely. “One for the nursery and one for the office. We’ll get tired of packing up that thing and hauling it up and down the stairs.”

Her lips parted and closed. “Okay. Do you have a color preference?”

“Lady’s choice.”

“All right.”

As she turned around to study the options, he studied the mass of glossy, rose-gold hair that was twisted into a bun and secured just above the column of her neck. Her skin reminded him of sweet cream. He yanked his gaze back to the chubby-cheeked baby.

Kelsey chose two sales tags from the display and moved on without another word. Surely they had enough by now. He was wrong. She paused in an aisle filled with bright colors and happy babies pictured in and around various bath seats. What fresh hell would he be asked about now?

To his immense relief, she made her choice without quizzing him. She selected towels and washcloths, soap and lotion. He saw a hooded towel with a goofy horse face and added it to the cart. She didn’t notice.

“Do you have a rocking chair?” she asked as they walked by a row of over twenty rockers in various colors and fabrics and styles.

“If you count the one on the porch,” he said. “I can clean it up for you.”

“That works. Thanks.”

He noticed the way her hand lovingly caressed a glider with simple curves in a clear, walnut stain. It reminded him of an antique bentwood rocker, despite the bold daisy-print cushions.

“Bailey obsessed about the rocker in her nursery,” he said. He spotted a glossy white finish with a jungle-print fabric. “I think that’s the one she chose.”

Kelsey reached over and tucked the baby’s pacifier back into his mouth. “Bailey?”

“My sister-in-law,” Fox said. “She delivered their son two days ago. Hudson Earl Colton.”

“A stately name.” Kelsey smiled up at him.

He hadn’t thought of it that way before. “It is. Earl is in honor of our grandfather.”

She nodded, her gaze clouding over before she looked away. “Most moms spend hours in these.”

“Not nannies?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Depends on the client,” she said. “And the age of the child.” She moved on, apparently unconcerned about rocking chairs now that she knew he had one.

Fox plucked the tag from the rocker she’d admired and followed in her wake. At last they seemed to be done, just as the baby started fussing.

“You’ve got this?” Kelsey asked, lifting the baby from the seat.

He nodded, and she carried the baby and the diaper bag away. He worked with the checkout clerk, somehow surviving the constant stream of happy chatter. “These too,” he said, handing over the tags for the portable cribs, a changing table and the rocking chair.

“One for Grandma’s house, right? That’s smart.”

He didn’t bother to correct her. “Thanks.” His parents were long dead and he’d never thought of Mara as grandma material, though she happily doted on the grandchildren she had.

His eyes nearly crossed when the register displayed the final total as he pulled the credit card from his wallet.


Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера:
Полная версия книги
1813 форматов
<< 1 ... 8 9 10 11 12
На страницу:
12 из 12

Другие электронные книги автора Regan Black