“Mini! Where in Hell are you?”
Jack sighed, shook his head. “Pro’bly sleeping off another drunk. He ain’t been real jolly.”
“Well, he can get his unjolly ass out here,” Bax growled before raising his voice to a bellow. “Jason!”
“Whut? Bax?” Jason stumbled out of the middle bedroom, looking like hammered shit. Mini hadn’t shaved, was about gray, and was skinny as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. “Bax?”
“Yeah. They put me on the couch. Come on over and say hey.” Damn it. Nobody better help Jason come to him.
“You come by yourself?”
“No. No, Jase. I brought him home.” Coke sighed as Jason stepped back. “Jase, buddy. I know, okay? Come see Andy.”
Jason swayed a half second, then Mini slunk down the hallway, heading for him, slow and careful.
Jesus, it near broke his heart. But Bax hurt too bad to let the sympathy get to him. He wanted to have Jason close enough to touch.
“Hey, man. How’s the leg?” Mini got there, hand on the back of the couch. “Doc say anything?”
“I’m out for the season. It was fairly clean, but it will take six to eight weeks just to get the cast off.” He reached right up with his good hand, patting Jason’s arm. It eased him.
“Damn.” Jason looked down at him, then those poor eyes moved away, just like that. “You hurtin’?”
“Andy, Mr. Coke. You want me to fix y’all some plates?” Momma wouldn’t even give Jason a glance.
“That’d be nice, ma’am,” Coke said, hauling Jack out of the room. Leaving them alone.
“I got my foot up on a stool. Come sit with me, Mini.”
“Momma said you won the round.” Jason came around, sat carefully, hand sliding over to him like it was searching him out.
“I did. I didn’t win the short go, with an eighty-three, but I was the only one to cover all of them.” He bit back all the things he wanted to say about how Jason looked, about how skinny he was. “You been up to no good?”
“Just been here. You… I guess you told Coke?”
“Yeah. He’s… Well, Hell, Jase. You know Coke. He’s not human.” The man could make you tell him the combination to your sister’s chastity belt.
It was a relief to see Mini grin, nod. “No. He’d make one hell of a spy or something. A priest.”
They both snorted. Jesus, a bullfighter in a collar.
“Hey, that’s it,” Bax said, patting Jason’s hand. “He’s the Cowboy Confessor.”
“Yeah.” Jason’s face went still again, and he ducked his head. “Sorry about the leg, man. You were riding good.”
“Well, I was good enough to get in for next season.” He wasn’t sorry. He’d been missing Jason like a sore tooth. “Mini, you look like Hell.”
“Yeah? Good thing I don’t have to worry about that.”
“Fuck you. I got to look at you, don’t I? I like the way you look healthy. A lot.” Jason couldn’t see him blush, at least.
“Yeah.” Jason sighed, rubbed his forehead. “I go tomorrow for another CAT scan to look at the swelling.”
“Well, that’s good, right?” That might mean the swelling was going down. “I missed you, Mini.”
“Yeah. It was weird, not going with.”
“I bet. I swear to God, I kept waking up, looking for you.” Okay, enough sap. No, really.
