“Bullshit.” Coke didn’t even hesitate.
“No way. I tell you what, Mini. I’m gonna clock you, you don’t stop putting yourself down.” No one put Jason down. No one.
“Fuck off. You don’t think I have reason? I don’t know how to do this!”
“I know! Shit, you think I don’t know? I want to know what to do to make it all go away, but I cain’t!” Goddamn it, they had to start thinking positive, though, right?
“If you two are gonna brawl, go outside. Miz Scott don’t need her kitchen busted up.”
“Oh, you hush.” That had him grinning, though, shaking his head. “All right, Mini. I’ll calm down. I just… You’re. You want some pie?”
“No.” He damn near growled when he saw Jason’s grin. “I want another burger, if there is one.”
Coke was up and over at the stove before he could blink, dishing up another burger. “You want pickles?” Coke asked. Yeah, Jase liked the sour stuff on the side.
“Yeah. On the side. Please.”
Well, he’d be damned.
Maybe this would work out after all. Bax finished off his supper. Somehow the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t near as bad as it had been.
Chapter Eighteen
Jason sat in the bathtub, soaking.
He could hear Momma pottering, could hear the TV in the guest room going, Coke laughing at something. Bax’d bathed and headed to bed, and he was just sitting.
Thinking.
He couldn’t fucking believe they wanted him to get on a bull. To lie to all those people. He couldn’t fucking believe he was thinking about giving it a shot. Jason searched for the soap, chuckling at himself. Jesus, he’d done it once, though, on a dare.
Got up on that fucking bull, rode, easy as you please. Won a thousand dollars off Harry White, too. Smart-assed bastard.
A knock sounded at the door, not Momma. She’d never knock that hard. “Mini? You coming to bed?”
“Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I was just…” Rubbing a little with the soap, daydreaming, floating.
“Can I come in?” Lord, that whisper was loud enough to travel all over the house.
“Door’s not locked.”
Man, those hinges creaked.
He heard the thump-step-thump-step, then the clack of the toilet lid going down. “You okay?”
“I think so? I was soaking. Thinking about what all we’d said.”
“I can go…” Bax sounded like he had a clog in his pipes. All froggy.
“I don’t mind sitting and talking with you.” He smoothed the soap over his thighs, pushing in a little.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” Clearing his throat, Bax went on. “So you hear your momma and Jack come home? They were plumb tipsy.”
“It’s prob’ly good for them.” He did like the smell of this soap, the way it felt as it slid.
“Uh-huh. They needed to blow off some steam…”
Lord, Bax was all stuffy or some such. Bless him. “You good, Bax?” He soaped up his belly, ass sliding a little on the tub.
