Didn’t that give him a wealth of satisfaction? “Good.” Damn good, in fact.
“Mmm-hmm.” That was an utterly content sound, Dillon sinking down on his chest a moment before laughing, sniffing. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Mmm. Coffee.” He kissed Dillon’s temple. “Let me get cleaned up and we’ll have a hotel feast.”
God, Dillon smelled like heaven.
“Sounds good.” Easing off him, Dillon bent down and gave him a proper kiss, lips and tongue hot and wet against his.
Between this and the promise of chocolate in his coffee, Coke reckoned he was heading into an amazing goddamn night.
Chapter Fourteen
“We need to do a sound check. I’m a weirdo, I know, but let’s do this.”
“I don’t know. We’re not quite set up yet, Mr. Walsh. I’m sorry.”
It was another new baby sound kid. Dillon swore they were going through them at a rate of one a second, and he was getting frustrated with it. No one cared that he was the son of a bitch who got pegged when shit didn’t work.
“Trust me, we need a sound check before everything starts. This is a live show, one of the major networks is picking it up, and they’re going to bury us if we get this wrong.”
“They’re bringing their own sound.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Are they? What’s your name, son?”
That sounded just like Coke. The man was rubbing off on him.
“R-Ricky.”
“All right, Ricky. Who gave you this information?”
The young man gave him a blink, his eyes wide as saucers. “Uh…Mr. David?”
“Thanks, I’ll be back.” He held the kid’s gaze. “I want a sound check. Find a way to make it happen.”
“Of course, Mr. Walsh. Yes, of course I’ll make it happen.”
“Good boy.” He saluted, and then he headed off.
He have a go at David, then either Ace or Sandy, and somebody was gonna die.
Chances were it wasn’t going to be him.
The bullfighters were warming up, jogging around. There was a beige covering on the stitches on Coke’s face. Doc’d demanded he wear it to keep the dirt and shit out of it while he was healing up.
Coke bitched about it, but it was that or not work. And Coke hated sitting out even more than he hated the plaster.
Nate nodded to him as he walked by. “You look pissed as all get out.”
“You think? Got one of the networks doing the show. They brought their own sound people.”
Nate’s eyebrow lifted as he jogged. “No space for you, huh? Are they gonna put Hoss on the TV?”
He snorted and shook his head. “Can you imagine that, with his face the way it is? I bet it’s you if it’s any of us.”
Nate blew out a hard raspberry. “My ass, no one’s talked to me. Bet it’s Ace. He craves it.”
“You think so?” Ace was pretty reserved, actually, but he would put his face up there to take the heat off the riders and staff.
