“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’tcrack. “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 intoanybody’stouch. 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 givingme 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 joiningforces 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.
