“Colt.”
“Relax, would you? I’m teasing. Yes, I understand you,” I murmur. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”
William’s shoulders relax marginally. “Okay, good.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he mutters, taking a drink from his water.
“Why not?” I ask innocently.
I’m realizing how much I enjoy the idea of riling him up. William is this ultra-put together, distinguished doctor, and something about knowing that I can make him squirm does it for me. It shouldn’t, but it does.
Nostrils flaring on an exhale, he meets my gaze from across the table. “Colt, I have been friends with your father since before you were born. Hell, I held you when you were a baby. A friendship of any sort is severely inappropriate. You must know that.”
A smirk tugs on my lips as I watch him from beneath my lashes. “Yeah, but I’m a big boy now, Doc. You must know that,” I drawl, throwing his words back at him, insinuation clear as day. “Besides, we’re going to be seeing each other at least twice a month at the free clinic,” I add. “I don’t think it’s too out there to suggest being friends.”
Brow furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, William looks thoroughly unamused, which only makes me beam. “Something tells me you’re highly incapable of beingjust friendswith anybody.”
Clutching my chest in mock offense, I gasp. “Are you insinuating that I’m a slut, Doctor Andino?”
“Don’t call me that,” he scoffs. “And I said no such thing.”
I arch a brow. “Why not? Youarea doctor. What would you rather I call you, then?DaddyWilliam?”
He nearly chokes on the sip of his water he just took, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hide my laughter. His eyes narrow as he glowers at me from the other side of the table. “Will is just fine.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” I pout as his glare intensifies. His face is turning a shade of red, and I swear I see steam billowing out of his ears.
Our server drops off our food, and despite how annoyed he seemed just a moment ago, it’s an oddly comfortable silence while we eat. The food, as always, is incredible. Screw fine dining; some of the best food I’ve ever eaten has been in this small-town diner.
As if reading my mind, William groans as he takes a bite. “I forgot how good this place is.”
“I bet there’s some incredible food in Seattle, though, too.”
He nods, wiping his mouth with the napkin he keeps in his lap. “There is. I typically cook and eat at home for the most part, but there were some great restaurants I enjoyed going to from time to time.”
“Do you miss living there?” I ask in between bites.
“There are aspects that I miss, like the coffee,” he says with a deep chuckle. “But Copper Lake is home, and even though I never saw myself moving back, now that I’m here, I’m glad I did.”
“Why did you?” I ask. “Move back, that is.”
William is quiet for a moment, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind. Finally, he says quietly, “The older my father gets, the harder things are for him. His hips are bad, so it pains him to be on his feet for long hours, and he’s overall moving a lot slower than he used to. I flew from Seattle to visit him for his birthday a few months ago, and he was in alot worse shape than he had led on. I knew it was time for him to retire, and he needed somebody around the house to help out with things.”
My respect for William just increased tenfold. I’ve always known he was a good man, but this is admirable. It should be an absolute no-brainer to help your parents when they get older. It’s just what you should do, but the reality isn’t always that black and white. Sometimes people don’t have the means to, or sometimes they just don’t care enough. For him to pack up his entire life—a life he’d built for himself over the last however many years—to move back here, seemingly no questions asked, to care for his father and take over the business is almost a rarity in today’s world. At least in this country.
“I’m sure he appreciates you being back,” I murmur.
William laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “That’s debatable,” he replies. “Roger Andino is a stubborn, independent man, almost to a fault. It’s how his father was, it’s how I am. It’s the Andino blood; we’re a bunch of hard-headed bastards. It took a lot of convincing and a whole hell of a lot of arguments to talk him into this. He’s griped about something or other since I’ve been back.”
I chuckle, imagining William getting bitched at by his father. I’ve known Roger my entire life. He was my doctor up until he retired, and he’s the sweetest, most caring man, at least to his patients, so hearing about this side of him is amusing. I’d love to see it for myself, even though that’ll probably never happen.
“Even if he sucks at accepting help and doesn’t admit it out loud, I’ll bet he probably still appreciates having you back.”
Popping a French fry in his mouth, William says, “Enough about me. How are you feeling about the injury and the rodeo?”
I bite down on my molars while I drag in a few deep breathsthrough my nose before I respond. It’s almost impressive how quickly that one small question can sour my entire mood.
