Chapter 17
17
William Andino
T oday was one of those days that I wanted to be over before it even began. Truthfully, that’s how my entire week has gone. Sleep isn’t coming easily to me, work is chaotic and busy—one of my nurses is out with the flu—and I’m more ready for the weekend than I have been in a long time. Tomorrow is Friday, and it couldn’t come soon enough. The only upside to today is the fact that I got out of the office by four-thirty, and I’ll be able to sit down and eat dinner at a reasonable hour. After dinner, I plan to take a piping hot shower and relax in front of the television with a pint of mint and cookies ice cream. It’s practically calling my name from the freezer.
Pulling onto my street, I spot a familiar truck parked in my driveway, right beside where I’m supposed to park, and stomach bottoms out. Why the hell is Colt at my house? It’s been several days since my run-in with him at Max’s birthday party, but I knew that my avoidance would only last so long, especially with the free clinic this Saturday—something I’d rather not do, but that’s not an option. I made commitments, and I can’t get out of them simply because I’m more exhausted than usual and wanting to avoid a certain somebody.
I put my car in park and climb out, huffing a sigh. Maybe Colt stopped by quickly with some more dessert from Trish, and he’s about to be on his way. Although, I would think Trish would’ve called ahead to let me know, like she did last time. The front door is already open, so once I open the screen door, I step inside, listening for any chatter. Frowning when I don’t hear anything, I toe off my shoes, placing them on the shoe rack in the entrance before setting my briefcase on the kitchen counter, and I head off in search of where everybody is.
Since I don’t hear anybody, I don’t think they’re in the living room, so my guess is they’re both out back on the patio. A guess that is proven right as soon as I enter the living room, and I spot the sliding glass door open. Quiet chatter reaches my ears the closer I get, and I can’t deny the flutters in my stomach. Something about Colt being in my house, especially after that kiss, has me uneasy. Stepping outside, the sight before me isn’t one I was expecting.
Sitting across from each other at the table out here, a chessboard between them, Colt and my father appear to be in an intense game of chess. So intense that neither of them even notices me for a moment, not until Winnie perks her head up from where she’s lounging on Colt’s lap.
Colt glances up first, gaze meeting mine as a smirk curls on his lips. His signature hat is facing forward this time, and he tips the bill by way of greeting. Only then does my dad spot me, glancing up from the chessboard, a furrow in his brow.
“Oh, hello, son. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Well, you’re outside. “Just got home,” I grunt, still watching them with bemusement. “What is going on?”
Gesturing at the table, my dad states the fucking obvious. “Colt and I are playing chess.”
“I see that.” Eyes meeting Colt’s, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
I hate how I notice what he’s wearing, and how it affects me. Dressed in full cowboy getup, he’s got on a pair of dark wash Wranglers, a plain white V-neck t-shirt underneath a powder blue and white flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tan, corded forearms, and the same dark brown boots I always see him wear. He looks ridiculously sexy, and it infuriates me.
Flashing me a cocky little grin, I already know whatever is about to come out of his mouth is going to irritate me. “Your dad and I ran into each other at the grocery store,” he says. “He invited me over for a game of chess and for dinner.” Dinner?! “He said you were making my favorite, and who am I to deny myself a little chess and my favorite food?”
“Is that right?” I deadpan, dragging my gaze over to my father, who grins at me in a way that makes my blood pressure raise. “And what exactly am I making for dinner, Dad ?”
“I pulled out some ground beef,” he explains, bringing his attention back to the board as he calculates his next move. “Figured you could whip us up some of your million-dollar spaghetti.”
Confused, I glance at Colt. “Your favorite food is spaghetti?”
Shrugging, he says, “What can I say? I’m a simple man.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“And son,” my dad murmurs, flicking his gaze up to me. “If you could start it soon, that would be lovely. I’m rather famished.”
“Me too, Doc,” Colt adds in, amusement dancing in his eyes.
I bite down on my molars so hard, I’m surprised they don’t crack. “Coming right up, Your Majesties,” I grunt, turning on my heel and heading back into the house.
What the hell is my father up to?
In the kitchen, I turn on some music before washing my hands. In terms of difficulty and time, this is an easy dish to make. After I cook the noodles and prepare the meat sauce, I layer it all in a casserole dish with a ricotta, mozzarella, parmesan, and egg mixture before tossing it in the pre-heated oven. Then I grab the loaf of French bread off the counter behind me, slice it open, and lather it in a garlic butter spread. Once that’s done, I wrap it in aluminum foil, and stick it in the oven next to the spaghetti.
Rinsing the dishes, I put them each in the dishwasher as I wait for the food to be done. About halfway through, Colt strolls inside, his eyes somehow immediately finding mine. Holding my gaze as he walks toward the kitchen, my chest tightens, and something like a thrill shoots through my body the closer he gets. He looks like a hunter stalking his prey, with the heated look in his eyes.
“Food will be done in about ten minutes,” I say, continuing to rinse the dishes.
As he waltzes into the kitchen, he doesn’t respond right away. Coming up behind me, I feel his firm chest as he steps up behind me, and I drag in his rich, masculine scent through my nostrils, flexing my jaw as I try not to outwardly react to his closeness. He’s practically flush with my back, and it’s maddening.
Instinctively, my gaze darts to the back door, and even though he can’t see my line of sight from where he’s standing behind me, he must know what I’m thinking because he brings his lips beside my ear as he whispers, “Don’t worry, Doc, he ain’t coming in here any time soon. "
His breath is hot as it brushes across my skin, goosebumps raising and covering the flesh. “How do you know?”
“Because he asked me if I’d get him a fresh glass of lemonade while I was in here,” he explains, voice deep and husky. “He’s busy with Winnie, which means I’ve got you all to myself.”
That knowledge shouldn’t send a thrill down my spine. It shouldn’t excite me. But it does, and he knows it.
“You know,” he husks, maintaining his too close proximity, “I’m still a little hurt by how quickly you wanted to run off last weekend after we shared that kiss.”
Even the mention of that steamy bathroom make-out has sweat pricking the back of my neck and my heart racing a little faster. My breath gets caught in my throat as I feel his hand grab hold of my hip. It’s possessive, and I hate how much I like it. How much I want to relax into his touch. I hate how long it’s been since I’ve been able to relax into anybody’s touch. I crave it, and I think that’s why I’m always weak around Colt. I’m touch starved, and I’m unable to deny him.
Yeah, that’s it.
“Have you thought about it?” Colt asks, his mouth much closer to my neck than it should be. “The kiss.”
Clearing my throat, needing this to come out clearly, I say, “Can’t say that I have.”
His dark chuckle tells me he doesn’t buy my lie. “Right,” he murmurs. “Let’s play it that way, Doc.”
In an instant, the pressure of his body behind mine is gone, replaced with an icy chill. I tell myself I don’t miss the contact, but that, too, would be a lie. The sound of the fridge opening reaches my ears, and I force myself to finish rinsing the dishes. After he refills the glass and puts the pitcher back in the fridge, Colt strolls out of the kitchen without another word, not giving me another glance until he’s about to exit through the back sliding door. A smirk tugs at his lips as he winks at me, and as soon as he’s out of sight, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Colt Bishop is nothing but trouble, and the hard ridge in my pants would suggest that his cocky, flirty nature turns me on more than anything. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Shortly after I finish the dishes, the spaghetti and bread are done. I toss together a quick salad, placing it on the dining room table, along with the butter. Letting both of them know dinner is ready, we all dish up, each taking a seat around the table. Colt sits directly across from me, and while he, thankfully, doesn’t play footsie with me tonight, I do feel the weight of his stare on me as I try to eat. After what happened in the kitchen, I’m entirely too riled up to enjoy my food, so I mostly shove it around my plate like a picky child.
After we finish eating, I’m the first out of my seat. As I’m about to start cleaning up, my dad stops me. “How about you boys take Winnie for her evening walk while I clean the kitchen?”
Colt stays silent as my heart stutters. “You don’t have to do that, Dad. I don’t mind doing the dishes.”
“Nonsense,” he grunts. “It’s a nice evening, you two enjoy the walk. Besides, my hip is rather sore today, so this is the easier task for me anyway.”
Huffing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’ll take Winnie, but I’m sure Colt has better things to do than take your dog for an evening stroll.”
“Nonsense,” Colt parrots my father, spiking my blood pressure again. These fucking two, I swear to God. “Your dad is right, Doc. It’s a nice day. Let’s do it together.”
Let’s. Do. It. Together.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these two were joining forces to see who could drive me crazier faster. “Fine, let’s go, then,” I grit out.
Grabbing Winnie’s harness and leash, I put them both on her before slipping my shoes on by the front door. We step out onto the porch, and my father is right; it’s a beautiful evening. Sunsets in Seattle are great, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about a Copper Lake sunset that really takes my breath away. I can’t explain it.
“Surely, you have better ways to spend your time than with two old guys,” I mutter to Colt after about a minute of walking.
Snorting, he replies, “I’d hardly call you old, Doc.”
“You’re nearly half my age.”
“How could I forget? You love reminding me.” In my periphery, I spot him turning his head and glancing at me. I don’t look. “But I don’t give a shit about that,” he chirps. “There is nothing old about you in my eyes. Distinguished, mature? Sure. But not old.”
That oddly makes my chest swell, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “Regardless,” I murmur, clearing my throat. “You don’t have to humor my father. He won’t be offended if you tell him no.”
“I don’t want to.”
Finally, I allow myself to peer over at him. He’s already watching me with curious eyes and a boyish grin. I don’t know what to say back to that, so I just… don’t.
Walking for about a mile, we come up to an open field. It’s one Winnie very much enjoys running laps around every night. There’s a bench off to the side, and after I unhook her leash, I take a seat on one side, while Colt occupies the other.
“How’s your shoulder?” I ask him as we both watch Winnie run out her newfound zoomies .
“It’s better.” Elbows propped on his knees, his hands are clasped in front of him. “Hoping to be able to start training soon.”
“Did your physical therapist indicate as much?”
Colt huffs out a breath. “No. I’m aware it’s na?ve, but I’m still holding out hope that I’ll be the exception, you know?” He glances over at me, and the intensity in his gaze is enough to punch the air out of my lungs. “The sooner I can get back to training, the better chance I’ll have at competing next season.”
“You can’t rush it, Colt.”
“I know that,” he scoffs, looking back into the field. “It’s hard, really fucking hard, to not be able to do the one thing you enjoy the most. This isn’t just my career, Doc. It’s my passion. It’s what I’m made to do, and as ridiculous as it is, I can’t help but be furious that I can’t do it.”
“It’s not ridiculous.” I’m hit with the urge to reach out and rub a hand over Colt’s back. Comfort him. But I don’t do that. “I can understand the way you’re feeling,” I say softly. “But you couldn’t have prevented this. It’s a risk I know you’re aware of every single time you climb on the back of one of them beasts. It could’ve happened to anybody.”
His fierce gaze flits to mine. “Yeah, but it didn’t happen to anybody. It happened to me , and I’m allowed to be pissed about it.”
“Of course, you are. Nobody is saying otherwise.”
Sitting back, he blows out a frustrated breath, kicking his legs wide. The new position has our thighs brushing ever-so slightly. I should move my leg, but I don’t.
I don’t want to.
“I… struggle with things that are outside of my control.”
Chuckling, I mutter, “You don’t say?”
Colt jabs me with his elbow, a smirk gracing his lips, and something inside of me settles seeing him smile again.
“You saw how much my dad’s injury fucked with him,” he says. “I don’t want to end up like he did.”
“You won’t,” I reply before I can stop myself. “Nobody can predict the future, but your injury is vastly different from what your dad went through. It makes sense that you’re comparing the two, but from an outsider perspective, they are not the same.”
He nods, glancing at me. “Yeah, logically, I know you’re right. Just wish it was easier to convince the irrational side of my brain.”
“You’ll get there, give yourself some grace. The accident really wasn’t all that long ago.”
Winnie runs around for another fifteen minutes while the conversation between Colt and I keeps going. It’s easy and comfortable, there’s no flirting or inappropriate comments. The simmering tension that seems to always be present with us is there, but still, it’s not a big deal. Colt heads home as soon as we get back to my place, and by the time I’m back inside, my dad already appears to be in his room for the night. Bounding up the steps, I wash my face and brush my teeth, slipping into a pair of pajamas, before retiring to my room too. I’d like to say I don’t spend the rest of the night replaying my evening, but I do. And not only that, but the kiss is on a loop in my mind as well.
As I fall asleep, I can’t help but wonder if it’s possible to make it through all of this unscathed.