Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“Hey, Momma.” Jason hung his hat on the hook, nudging Stu and Beemer out of the way, hound dog ears flailing as they fought to get out, to get to Bax. Drooling beasts.
“Hey, boys. Y’all get that fence seen to?”
He grabbed Beemer’s collar pulled him off Bax’s knee. “Yeah, Momma.”
Nag. Nag. Nag.
“Good. I made y’all cornbread and all. Get the horse off you. Andy, I put your laundry on your bed.” Momma came bustling through, apron all white with flour and her hair piled up in a granny knot. Lord. It was quite a look over top of her Rocky Mountain jeans and her scuffed up old boots.
Bax, who was Andy to every other fool in the world but him, nodded and grinned and pulled one of Momma’s apron strings. “Thanks. Can I have cake first?”
She swatted his hand but good, snorting. “You can not. That’s for dessert, son.”
Jason cackled, grabbed her by the waist and hauled her around, the apron going flying. “Rules, rules, rules.”
Laughing and beating out a tattoo for them to dance to, Bax egged him on. “Nothing but rules.”
He let her feet touch the ground as he two-stepped her around, her laugh making him grin.
“Y’all were in the pond, weren’t you? You smell like snake-water.”
“Yeah, Momma. Me and Bax got all eat up with the cottonmouths.”
The dogs howled at the very mention of the word, making them all chuckle. Bax washed up and dried off, nodding at Momma. “What can I do, lady?”
“Set the table. Son, go get the meat off the smoker.”
“Yes, Momma.” He grabbed a cookie sheet and the meat fork, whistling up the puppers as he went out. Jesus Christ, Momma’d put a side of beef in the damned thing.
They’d be eating beef sandwiches out of mini-fridges for a week.
Time Jason got back in, Bax had the table set, the napkins all mangled because he had tried to fold them like Momma did. Like those stiff old broken up fingers was gonna work that well.
“Martha Stewart you ain’t, buddy.” He did love them hands, though. The way they touched things.
“Oh, shut up, Mini.” There was no heat behind it. Just a flash of those dark eyes and a wicked ‘fuck you’ grin.
“Yeah. Yeah. You see the size of this meat?” Wait, did that sound dirty?
“Uh… Is that a trick question?” Look at the sun that man had gotten on his cheeks today.
He snorted, damn near choking as he started laughing, the meat sliding on the pan. “Shit. Shit.”
“Don’t you drop that, son.”
“No, ma’am.”
Bax came to help him, abandoning the twisted and ripped napkins. “No letting the dogs have our supper.”
“I left them outside. Thanks, man.” They got it settled on the counter, and Momma handed Bax a carving knife.
“Oh. Duh.” While he bustled around grabbing stuff, Bax carved, slicing it nice and thin. “Okay, folks, let’s eat.”
“Momma, you outdid yourself.” Potato salad, coleslaw, bread. Man, it was nice to be home.
Even if it was for just a few days.
Bax grinned. “I can smell that cake.”
“I made two little ones. One for tonight, one for y’all’s cooler.”
“Score!” Bax leaned over and kissed Momma’s cheek. “I’m your favorite son, right?”
“You know it.”
“Hey!” He kicked Bax’s ankle but hard. Asshole. Kissing up on his momma. “Man, a guy can’t get a break.”
“Sure you can. I can break your foot, Mini.” He got a kick right back, as Bax scooped up potatoes.
“Fuckhead.”
“Watch your mouth at my table, Jason Patrick Scott.”
“Yes, Momma.”
Snorting, Bax heaped more food on his plate. “See there? You might be a big star at the arena, but here you’re a momma’s boy.”
“Andy Baxter, you are not too big to be stuck doing the dishes, now. Y’all quit bitchin’ and eat.”
Jason hid his grin in a bite of slaw. He wasn’t the only one Momma could give what for.
“Yes, ma’am.” Bax didn’t talk to his own mother, so it seemed right somehow that Jason’s had taken him on. And she did, too, especially when she thought Bax was being a butthead on TV or something.
They settled right in, eating hearty. He could watch Bax eat for, oh, hours and shit.
The man loved his feed, licking the fork and enjoying every bite and all.
Then there were Bax’s hands. Lean, tanned dark, and well-shaped, they just fascinated him.
They’d been on him so many times while he was in the chute, and he always dreamed of more.
He caught himself staring a little, watching those fingers, following the little scars on the back.
Goddamn.
The things he could imagine.
Bax caught him staring finally, dark eyes fastening on his, one eyebrow going up. “You okay, Mini?”
“Yeah. Yeah, only woolgathering, man.” Jesus.
Just thinking about doing obscene things with you.
“Ready to get on the road already, son?”
“I got two more days, Momma.”
“Don’t push us out the door, huh?” Bax said, patting her hand. “We need the time off.”
“Y’all are welcome home whenever. Two more suppers, huh? Y’all want enchiladas and spaghetti?”
“Oh. Spaghetti. Will you make garlic bread and Italian cream cake?” Look at that fool man bounce.
“Sure, son, if you and Junior get up on the roof and check shingles.”
“Momma, you’re evil.” He grinned over, winked.
“Shit, Mini, you know I’ll do shingles and gutters for that meal.” Sometimes it was good to just be home, not be on the road. People figured he and Bax split up to do that, but home was when he enjoyed the man’s company the most.
“Yeah. I want to do some maintenance on the tractor.” Maybe take the cutting horses out.
“And I promised to clean out the old rabbit hutch, yeah?” Bax could work like a dog.
“You’re good boys. Both of you. I bought a bunch of shoot ‘em up movies for y’all to watch in the hotels. Oh, and Andy, honey. You need some new shirts. Cain’t you get your sponsor to understand that yellow takes on stains?”
“I’ve tried, Momma.” Shrugging easily, Bax just nibbled some more. “They like yellow. It’s their logo color.”
“It suits you, at least.” Momma shook her head, giving him another spoonful of slaw. “Finish that, and I won’t have to save any.”
“Yes, Momma.” He nibbled, listening to both of them jabber on about this and that, the sound familiar as hell. Shit.
It was good to be home.
Even if they did have to get on the roof. Luckily they had cake to eat first.