“Yep.” Leaning, Beau checked his head. “Swelling’s going down.”
“It’s just a little bump, huh? My head’s too hard to really bust.”
“I sure hope so.” Warm lips ghosted over his head. “Feels good, huh? Just to rest.”
“Yeah.” He was tired. And getting old, a little.
“I got us soup and some of them little sandwiches. The kind with the crust cut off. Easy to eat.”
“You know what I want? Gumbo.”
“Oh.” Beau moaned a little for him. “I could go for that. Cornbread. Some chicory coffee.”
“Pralines.”
“Fuck yes.” Beau could rhapsodize about pralines.
They sighed together. “Beignets…”
Beau leaned on him, almost dozing, and they breathed together until the food came. Beau let him rest, going to tip the bellhop. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching that tight little ass move.
“You’re staring at me, Poot.” Beau grinned, coming back with the food.
“You’re fine, Boug. You make me hungry.”
“Do I? Well, we got the food.” Beau winked, settling next to him again. Shit, they’d been as busy as two men could be, but he was gettin’ ready again. He sat up, and Beau’s hand brushed the back of his head, so gentle. He winced -- that one spot was damn sore.
“You got to be more careful, Poot. Got to.” Beau stroked the back of his neck, then his shoulder.
“I try, Beau. I’m friggin’ cursed.”
“I know.” That laugh made him smile, then chuckle. He never could resist it when Beau laughed like that.
He reached over, fingers finding Beau’s ticklish spots immediately. Beau chortled, wiggling.
They laughed together a second, then Beau’s stomach growled, so they started lifting metal domes. “Who do you reckoned invented these things, Boug?”
“What things?” Beau waved a dome, damned near taking off Sam’s nose. “These? Some French dude.”
“Huh.” He nodded. “They’re sorta silly looking, really, but I think French folks needed to have babies with rednecks to do shit right.”
“That’s it. I guess they do keep shit from getting all over.” Beau stared at the plate. “It ain’t gumbo, but I guess it will do.”
“For today, yeah.” He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, I might just go home for a couple days. I ain’t riding worth shit, and at least at home I could mend fence.”
It killed him to say it, but folks were starting to say shit again. Shit about the bad luck kid and how he was Sam Rung His Bell. Shit about how he was riding the Champ’s coat tails. Again.
“Yeah?” Beau frowned. “Oh. Well, the dogs would sure like that.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. He was being an ass.
“I’d go with you, but I got to save any free passes I got, just in case.” Beau fed him a French fry.
“I know. You’re on a roll. I wouldn’t ask, but…shit, Beau. If I hadn’t won that one show, I wouldn’t even be gonna make the finals.” There was a chance that they’d drop him off the big tour, even, although, the day that happened, he was announcing his retirement.
“You’ll make it. You got a bye from Doc, though. Take it.” Beau would do anything for him, he knew that. Even go to events without him.
He nodded. “Might as well be useful, as well as ornamental.”
