17. Chapter 17
The drive was the kind of quiet that happened after a good dump of snow—heavy and fresh. Not the kind of empty silence that had been haunting Beau for days.
Beau took him to his house, led Colt inside and listened for the patter of his cat’s feet. Sure enough, the fluffy shit came running down the hall the second the front door shut. He bypassed Beau entirely and twined himself between Colt’s ankles, purring a frantic, deep purr.
“Hey.” Colt knelt down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Did you miss me?”
The cat answered with a series of chitters and meows, standing on his hind legs so he could headbutt Colt in the chin so hard it made a noise.
Beau shook his head and headed to the kitchen, where he pulled out a frying pan.
“Whatcha making?” Colt asked as Beau dropped some butter into the skillet.
He turned to see Colt standing by the kitchen island holding Beau’s twenty-five pound cat like a stuffed animal. The cat licked his lips and stared at Beau like he was daring him to comment about it.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Beau turned back to the counter and dropped bread on a plate so he could spread mayo on the outside and drop it in the pan.
It sizzled as he pulled cheese out of the fridge and loaded the sandwiches up.
Colt hummed. “Pretty sure white bread, American cheese, and canned soup aren’t on my list of approved food items.”
“Got some shredded cabbage and chicken in the fridge if you’re feeling too good for this.” Colt was watching him with red-rimmed eyes. The crying had brought out the green of them so hard that it looked almost unnatural. “How ‘bout that?”
Smiling, Colt hiked the cat higher and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “Just checking, Mr. Moore.”
“Beau.”