Chapter 10 #2
“Hey, guys. We ready for a good show? This is the probably the last show Emmy’s going to have with us. That baby’s getting close.”
Jason chuckled softly. “At least Cotton’s here with her.”
“Yeah, knowing that kid’s luck, the pyrotechnics will startle the baby right out of her tonight,” Bax said.
“That would keep Ace off my ass, huh?” Jason sounded tickled to death.
“It would. How you gonna do that long term?” Gramps asked.
Jason shrugged. “Call him from Momma’s, like I told Bax. I cain’t stand there with him. He’ll know. He’s the smartest cowboy on earth, after Balta.”
Andy nodded. That was true, and Jase’s eyes moved like wild things, if he were honest. Ace thought it was damn rude to wear sunglasses when someone was talking to him too. “Smart or not, Ace’ll reckon Mini if he sees him.”
“Yeah.” Dillon sighed. “Okay, so you call him from home. We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah. Bax figured out what all I need to do to win the championship. I can do it.”
Andy watched Coke blink. “You think so, son?”
“I got to, Gramps. I got to. I want to announce my retirement and go have my life.”
Coke’s face crumpled a little, but Bax knew he was proud. It showed in those gray eyes, shining bright. “Well, then, you got to share the math with me, Andy. So I can help.”
Dillon did a little dance step. “Ditto. I have an accountant brain. I can make a chart.”
Jason relaxed back against the headboard. “We’re gonna buy a house on the beach, and I want a dog.”
Dillon coughed, choking on his coffee until Coke slapped him on the back. “Sorry. Like a guide dog or a ranch dog?”
“A guide dog. I mean, ranch dogs too, but mainly a guide dog. I need to learn shit, and we’ll figure it, but we got us a plan, me and Bax.”
“Well, okay. That works for y’all.” Coke looked… Andy wasn’t sure. Was that bittersweet? It was less than tickled and more than sad. “Make sure you have a guest room. I like the beach.”
“Yeah. He likes to bake his bones. So are you gonna win, place or show today?” Dillon asked, changing the subject, which was probably fine.
“I’ve already showed, so I’m reckoning on a win. I want to earn my vacation.”
“Well, then we need to make a plan for the interviews. You did okay last time, but they’re gonna want you to do that five questions BS soon.” Dillon chewed his lower lip, thinking hard.
“I can’t, Dillon. I cain’t stick my eyes straight, man. They’ll think I’m stoned or something.” Jason sounded damn near panicked.
“Well, unlike with Ace, you can wear your sunglasses. Just tell them the light hurts your eyes still. Schmaltz ‘em.”
“And y’all can’t tell with the lights on me?”
“Not with the glasses on.”
Bax nodded. Dillon had the sharpest eyes, so if he said no, then that was that.
“Hell, you get too worried about it, just limp off the dirt like you’re a little hurt and they can tell everyone you had to go to sports medicine. Then we hustle you out.” Coke was the man with a plan.
“Right. I’ll wing it.” Ah, the Jason Scott motto. ‘When in doubt, wing it.’
That hadn’t changed one bit. Andy was okay with that. Made life interesting. Unless Jason was trying to drive, which had happened.
Coke checked his phone. “I swear, the weekends just get shorter and shorter. We’re heading to Dillon’s place after the event to spend a couple of days.”
“Good deal.” Bax glanced at Dillon, who was smiling at Coke, but there was an edge of worry in his eyes. What is that about? Gramps had better not be hurtin’ again.
Personally, Bax thought Gramps ought to retire and start having some fun. Seriously, all the man did anymore was cowboy protection. They went to Dillon’s, but that was like physical therapy, so Gramps could soak in that huge hot tub Dillon had put in.
They needed to go to Mexico or something. Go deep-sea fishing. Take a cruise. Disappear for a few months. Something.
“Huh?” He blinked. He’d missed something.
“I said, are you all geared up for today, son?” Coke was frowning at him.
“Sorry.” Bax chuckled. “Thinking about Momma’s chicken fried steak.”
“Oh…” That was a great sound that Jase made. Pure goofy male happiness.
“Damn. Don’t make Coke want to go south instead of north,” Dillon complained.
“You’ll make me pot roast,” Coke murmured. “And carrot cake.”
Dillon shimmied again. “That I will.”
Gross. Dillon still freaked him out a little bit.
Coke hooted, and Jason shook his head. “I can tell I’m missing a visual.”
“Bax has ‘ew’ face on,” Dillon said. “He just went there thinking about me and Coke.”
“Did not. You’re just not natural.”
“Oh, he’s all real, boyo.” Coke sounded satisfied as hell.
Bax gagged, clutching his throat and really working it.
Laughing like a loon, Dillon jumped on him, giving him a noogie.
“Jase! The clown is molesting me!”
“Make sure you wash the makeup off before you kiss me, then.”
Jason’s words made him stop and blink. Their friends knew him and Mini were…well, together, but this was new. This was just saying it, right out there.
It felt… damn fine. Even better to struggle away from Dillweed and go swing Jason up out of his chair and around the room.
Mini kept his eyes open the whole time, just like he was riding a bull. Sweet.
“Okay, y’all. Drink up.” Coke was getting his business voice on. “We need to talk bulls. I got the short list. If you can, take Mama’s Boy. He’ll make you look good and he’s on fire.”
“He is.” Mini’s expression went mulish. Jason had him read the bull stats to him every week before the event. He knew all there was to know.
“Good deal. You know who you drew for today?”
“Knocker. He’s kind of a booger, but if I can stay out of the well, I can do it.” Jason’s lips curved. “I got good balance still, at least.”
“Nate and I will do our best to keep him from turning into your hand,” Coke said.
“Y’all rock. It’ll be what it is.” And now Jason wasn’t going to talk about it anymore. Bax knew that expression.
Coke and Dillon both looked at Bax, and he just shrugged. He wasn’t gonna try to force his man to do nothin’.
“Guys, easy. It’s bull ridin’. That part I understand. It’s the part after the bull that’s a bitch.”
“Sure. We’re just cabbage heads.” Dillon whacked Coke’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go for a drive to the arena. Take a few minutes to ourselves.”
“I didn’t mean to run y’all off…” Jason looked like he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or worried.
“You didn’t.” Coke snorted. “Dillon’s just telling me we need to stop mother henning. We’ll be there when you ride, son. Don’t you worry.”
“I don’t, Gramps. You’ll always be there, telling me where to run.”
Coke’s eyes shimmered a little. “From your lips to God’s ears, son.”
Dillon rolled his eyes dramatically, but Bax knew better. He was having the feels too. They hustled out, and Bax chuckled.
“Alone again.”
“Isn’t that a song?” Mini laughed for him…or at him. It was hard to tell.
“I think so? You know that shit better than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You want to listen to anything? Or just hang out?” The time before they left for the arena was always just tense.
“You want to get out of here too? We could drive around.”
“Hell, yeah.” Bax set the alarm on his phone to half an hour before they would have to be parking at the event. “Let’s do it, babe.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Mini reached down and hunted for his boots, stomping right into them. “Let’s do this. I want to go home and see Momma.”
“Me too.” He wanted to breathe. Bax grabbed their go bags, as eager to get this over with as he used to be to ride.
Lord, he was getting old.