Chapter 3 #2
“He will, babe.” Then they would go see Beau and make sure Sammy would recover.
Then he would take his bullfighter home.
Coke couldn’t sleep.
It was fucking insane. He had always been able to sleep before even if he was hurt, but he just fucking couldn’t now.
Coke wandered the suite, keeping quiet as a mouse so that the bassets didn’t wake up and begin their ‘need to go out’ dance. Every so often Beau would text him, which wasn’t helping him get any rest.
Hey cher. He’s moving.
Hey cher. He’s cryin. what do i do?
Hey cher. You still awake?
Hey.
Hey.
Yeah, he was still awake. As if he could sleep through the worry.
Coke grabbed his phone and headed out of the room to the weird overlook deal inside the hotel, easing his sore ass down onto a chair that was way less comfortable than it ought to be.
Beau answered on the second ring when Coke called, voice hushed. “Hey, cher.”
“Hey stranger.” He sounded about as rough as a cob himself. “How goes it?”
“It goes. Am I keeping you up?”
“Not a bit. You holding up okay?” Talk to me, Cajun.
“He keeps kicking and moaning, cher. It’s killing me.” Beau sounded like he’d been swallowing glass.
“Yeah. I seen that with Ole Rusty. You ’member him?”
“Oh, Lord. That man was the king of landing on his damn head,” Beau said.
“Yeah, that was back before the league, before the money and the big show, when we was all just ridin’ rodeo like regular Joes.” Sometimes Coke missed that a little—the tiny arenas and the sun beating on you and melting your makeup. He missed being able to go home for weeks in between rodeos.
Beau snorted. “We were all fumbling around like fools. I’d give up all the titles and the money to have him safe and well, Coke. Every bit.”
“Me too, but that ain’t how it works, huh? The good Lord makes His choices.” Even though Coke wished He would remember to keep more of the good ones safe.
“I reckon.” Beau sighed, the sound a puff of air, really. “How’s your clown holding up?”
“He’s sleeping some. You know that he loves Sammy half to death.
We all do, but Dillon… I think Sammy’s special to him.
” Coke shook his head, a dull pain near cracking his chest open, so he clenched his hand, the agony there distracting him.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get in there fast enough, Beau. We tried, but…”
Sometimes they didn’t do it, even when they put their best into it.
“Yep. Just like I’m sorry Sammy doesn’t think before he leaps.” A rough chuckle bucked him up some. “You did all you could, cher. Never doubt that for one slim minute.”
“Eh, Sammy loves you more than life. I know it don’t feel like it right now, but that’s a blessing.” He hoped it was. That’s what it was with Dillon and him. He’d lay down his soul for his cowboy.
“Yeah. Y’all think you could bring me a bag of sausage biscuits and hash brown thingies when you come later this morning? I’m so sick of the cafeteria already.”
“Of course. I’ll bring good coffee, too. Won’t be but a few hours. You… You think you might could close your eyes, Cajun? Rest?”
“I’ll try.” Beau was lying, and Coke heard it plain as day, but they both chose to let it go. “Goodnight, cher. Love you.”
“Love you, Cajun. I’ll be there with bells on.” He hung up with a sigh, his head feeling like a bowling ball on the end of his neck. Fuck a doodle doo.
Coke slipped back inside the hotel room, locking the deadbolt as quiet as he could.
Dillon was little more than a lump in the middle of the big bed, covered up with blankets.
It was frigid in the room, but it always was.
Dillon slept cold. Coke sat over by the window, staring out at the mountains.
Man, it was pretty out here. Little weird, with most of the cowboys gone, but pretty.
He heard a rustle, and the pad of feet that were not basset-shaped. “Babe? You okay?”
Coke thought about his answer some. “No.”
“Yeah.” Dillon sighed, leaning up against his back.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He was glad Dillon was up, though. Glad for the warmth pressing against him.
One lean hand came down to stroke his belly, just above his sweatpants. “How’s Beau?”
“Scared. Sam ain’t woke up yet, but he’s hurting.”
“Well, I’m gonna choose to think of that as good.”
He could see that, maybe. If Sam wasn’t in there, he wouldn’t be showing pain.
“Yeah.” Coke rested his forehead on the window.
“I love you, Coke. You know that, right?”
“I do. I’m so fucking tired, cowboy.” He could tell Dillon that, here in the dark.
“I know, babe.” Dillon rubbed, fingers moving in seemingly lazy circles. “I know. Soon we’ll go to my place and disappear for Christmas.”
“I can’t wait.” He wanted to go, so bad it ached. He wanted a few minutes of being Dillon’s, not being Gramps or Fearless Pharris or anyone else who had to save lives.
“Yeah. You. Me. Snow in the hot tub.”
He moaned—he couldn’t help it.
“That’s it, babe.” Kissing his shoulder, Dillon hummed.
“I want to spend some time away.” He wasn’t a good man for it, but it was true.
“Me too. Like soon.” He felt more than heard the chuckle.
“Yeah. Been a long week.”
“You know it, babe,” Dillon started rocking a little, like a backassward slow dance.
It felt damn good, though, so he went with it, letting Dillon move against him. Dillon sang some, hands moving on his chest and belly, nothing but comfort, nothing but touching for the sake of touching.
“You got good hands.”
“I like to touch you, babe.” Yeah. Yeah, Dillon had proven that over and over. Not even in a sexual way. Dillon was more tactile than anyone he knew.
“You got a thing for old bullfighters?”
“Only this one. He’s a little beat up and a lot scarred, so it’s never boring.” Dillon’s fingers slipped up to glide over his nipples.
“Mmm. You know, you and me, we gotta spend more time on the good touches.” His nipples agreed, perking right up. Bodies were funny things, wanting release from stress no matter how it happened.
“We do, don’t we?” Dillon’s soft laugh sent a gust of warm air over his back, and those clever fingers went right back to pinching and pulling before he was eased right down into the covers.
He chuckled right along, and it felt nice to have a laugh. Real good.
“Yours.” Dillon nuzzled his chin. “Sleep, babe. I got you.”
“Yeah?” He hadn’t been able to sleep a bit before, but… Yeah.
“Definitely.” A soft kiss was pressed against his mouth, and something hit the floor next to the bed. He thought maybe it was his phone.