Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Hoss? You out here?”
Coke dropped the hammer onto the wee workbench, leaving the frame he was fixing. “Nattie? Boy, is that you?”
“Yessir. I brought you some rugmonkeys.”
He popped out, arms open for hugs. “Y’all made it! How’s Miss Tracy?”
Nate grinned at him. “Pregnant.”
“Again?”
“Yessir.”
Coke hooted, grabbed up that tow-headed gal and smooched her. “Congrats, Nattie.”
“Thanks, Hoss. Shee-it, it’s cold out here.”
“You know it. Come on, y’all. Dillon’s got you all set up with rooms and all.” He kept Hailey in his arms, Little Coke following along.
As soon as they made it inside, the bassets set up an excited howl, running at the kids. Kids and dogs was always a fine combination.
He chuckled, putting Hailey down before giving Nattie a hug. “Good to see you.”
He meant it, too. Him and Nate had been tight for a long damn time.
“You, too. Man, it’s been crazy.” Nattie clapped him on the back, looking around the kitchen. “Nice place.”
“It is. Gonna be here through Christmas. You still going to Mexico?”
“Yeah. I mean, Tracy is able, and we can have bottled water, you know?” Nate waggled his eyebrows.
“Uh-huh.” Still, he thought it would suck to be in Mexico and not having beer. ’Course, he wasn’t a girl.
“So, how’s Dillweed?”
“Fine. We’re having a ball.”
He heard Dillon’s voice, sliding down the hall. “You need help getting your shit out of the car?”
“Nah. I got most of it. I’ll get the rest after we eat. Tracy had to pee, so we came to find you.”
“Hey, asshat.” Dillon appeared, Tracy trailing behind. “Look what I found.”
Coke grinned at Miss Tracy. “Hey, beautiful girl.”
“Hey, Coke.” She came and kissed his cheek, her eyes going automatically to her hooligans.
“They’re fine, Momma.” He winked, grinned at her. “Congrats, by the way.”
“He can’t keep a secret for love or money, can he?”
“No, ma’am.”
“What?” Dillon glanced back and forth among them all. “Dude! Tracy.”
Tracy grinned, turned bright pink. “Early May, there’ll be another cowboy.”
Nate beamed. “Or cowgirl.”
“That’s awesome.” Dill hugged Tracy, slapped Nate on the arm. “We’ll celebrate. No booze.”
“Not for her, anyway. Tell me you brought it, Hoss.”
Coke knew what Nate was talking about, and he shook his head. “No, Nattie. We’ll run to town, though, and find us one.”
“Find one what?” Dillon looked like nothing so much as a blond squirrel. All bright eyes and twitching nose.
He met Nate’s eyes, and they both blushed, grinned. “He’ll find out eventually, Nattie.”
“I think you should make him wait, Hoss.”
Coke chuckled, arm draping over Nate to hug the man. “You’re a hardass. Come on, buddy. I’ll show you Dillon’s place.”
Dillon would give him no end of shit for the Rock Band thing, but him and Nattie, it was a tradition, damn it.