“You know it. Bed.” He laughed, squeezed one more time, loving the give of that muscled butt. “Then we’ll do that recover, tear it up thing and scare the boys.”
“Sounds good, babe.” Sliding to the floor, Dillon took his hand and led him to the bedroom, the whole place cool and inviting and looking like a nap might be fine.
They settled in, Dillon on the side that Coke thought he might think of as Dillon’s for a long, long time, and rested.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dillon hummed, flipping eggs like a machine. He wasn’t so fab with the grill, but he could make eggs and toast and bacon, so he’d left Coke in bed for some well-deserved rest and gone to make breakfast. Besides that, it was a joy to work in Coke’s kitchen—the place well-used, well-loved, not fancy at all.
He was flipping the last egg when the scrape of a chair being pulled back made him jump, and he turned to find Jason’s sightless eyes on him. That was still weird as hell.
“Hey, Jase. How’s it hanging?”
“It’s going okay, man. I smelled bacon. Thought Coke was cooking. Is there coffee?”
“There is. Want me to get you one, or you want to try?” He wasn’t above plain old asking, which Jason seemed to appreciate.
“I want to try, but I need a little help, huh? Making a mess is cool. Burning important bits is not.”
“Sure. I doubt Coke’s moved anything much since you were here last.” Luckily, Dillon considered himself a prettygood teacher, and he’d talked to that friend of his about what to do. “Here. Get up and walk three steps to your left.”
He moved the eggs off the heat and went to meet Jason there.
Jason nodded, taking three steps. He could tell Andy’d been working on it, because Jason just moved, trusting him, not taking little mincing steps. “No, but it’s been a while and, man, you don’t know how different things are, like this.”
“No, I imagine I don’t. You’re good there. Now, the coffee pot is at basically ten o’clock, on your left. Don’t feel out and up, ‘cause you’ll burn yourself. Start at counter level and feel along to the base.”
“Is the handle out toward me?” It felt surprisingly good, how Jason followed what he said, didn’t second-guess him.
“It is. Turned a little to the right, not straight up where the pot is. Once you got a bead on that, the cups are in the cabinet directly in front of your face, and Coke doesn’t stack things, so you can just grab a handle.”
“Cool. Thanks, man.” Jason managed, using his fingers to make sure he didn’t overfill. “You want a cup?”
“Yeah. That would be great. Oh. I make mine a little different than Coke does. I hope that’s okay.” Never let a cowboy make the coffee. Well, not a Texas one, anyway.
“I’m easy, man. Do I smell eggs, too?” Another cup came down, Jason filling carefully.
“You do. Bacon and toast and fried potatoes. Want?” He got the milk out and set it on the table. “Milk’s in front of your seat at the table, sugar’s the big glass jar on the lazy Susan in the middle.
“Yeah. I want.” One coffee cup was held out, sort of in his direction. “So, tell me the truth. Is this whole thing for real? I mean, with me and the bulls. It’s not just Coke and Bax…blowing sunshine up my skirt?”
He took the coffee and let Jason sit before he went back tothe stove. “Coke would never do that. You know his whole mission in life is taking care of you riders. He loves you, Jase.”
“I know. I just… You don’t. And you’ve got more to lose than anyone, money-wise, so I figured you’re the one to ask.”
Dillon made two plates before he answered, giving that the thought it deserved. It had never occurred to him to even think about his own sponsors…or his paycheck. Thinking about it told him he’d help, no matter the cost.
“Well, I think you can do it. So does Coke. Andy wants to believe it with everything he is, but he’s also really crazy about you, so he worries. We can pull it off.”
“Okay, then.” Jason started feeling around the table, touching idly.
“Here, man. Have some food. Move your coffee off to three o’clock.” He waited for Jason to move the cup before putting down the plate, the food carefully arranged. “Coke told me where to put the egg and toast and all. The potatoes are at the top right, okay?”
“Cool. Thanks.” Jason found his fork, fingers sliding around the edges of the plate. “Sorry for busting in to y’all’s…uh…break.”
“No worries.” He chuckled. “I sound like Packer, huh?” Packer was everyone’s favorite Aussie rider, and he actually said things like ‘no worries’.
“Dude, you ain’t got ears like that man.” Jason laughed, the sound good, real. “I heard he’s fighting his shoulder again, huh?”
