“Shit, babe, you can be ornamental for me anytime.” Beau petted him absently. “You’ll talk to Silva and AJ about pulling my rope?”
That made his belly tight, made him growl a little. He didn’t like no one pulling Beau’s rope. No one but him.
Beau’s fingers kept moving on his skin, soft and easy. “Well, I don’t want no one else doing it, but I got to go to the next event. Then I can come stay for two weeks.”
“I could come for one more, then. Then we could both go home.”
“We could.” That got him the brightest of bright smiles, and a kiss that liked to make him forget about supper.
Oh, hell yeah. Better. So much better.
“Let’s eat, Poot. We got to make a plan.”
“I like plans, cowboy.”
He liked sandwiches, too, so he was golden.
Chapter Eight
Home.
Home sweet fucking home.
Beau hadn’t had to get someone else to pull his rope. Sammy had come and done it for him, even if he’d had to sit out round two because round one had made poor Sam sick as a dog. Nausea from the head injury, Doc said. Sammy? Well, he was sore as an alligator in a bear trap. Beau had stepped careful around him until they got home. The dogs had done the rest.
Those beasts had mowed Sammy down when he stepped out of the truck and the laughter had started, deep and husky and real, and Beau’d known Sammy was happy to be home. It hadn’t taken him five minutes to head for the barn, whistle up the horses.
Beau had made for the kitchen, rustling up some food out of the groceries they’d bought on the way in. The pralines they’d bought at Miss June’s.
He heard a whoop and a laugh and glanced up, cackling as Sammy shot across the pasture bareback, Hondo flying underneath him. The big gelding seemed happy to be alive, happier to be with Sam.
Shaking his head, Beau went back to chopping. Gumbo. Cornbread. Beans for tomorrow.
Petunia came swaying up, cold nose on his hip as she waited to get loved on.
“Hey, baby girl.” Beau went after the long old ears first, then got under her massive dewlap. Hounds. She chuffed and wagged, her swelling belly making her a little lumpy. “Sweet baby. Gonna give us choux, huh?”
He went back to chopping onions and peppers, not surprised at all when Granny tottered through the door, her cane clacking on the floor. “Chouchou! How you been, boy? I see’d them there truck and said, Lawd, my boy is home?”
“Hey, Granny!” Beau went to kiss her cheek, careful of the knife, and got her a chair. “Sam is out riding.”
“That boy and his horses.” Granny grinned crookedly.
“Yeah. He loves them more than the bulls, huh? You see my girl here?”
“Oui, oui,me an’ yourhomme-heureuse, we been watching close, eh? She’s good.” He grinned, chuckled as the happy old man himself, Beau Lafitte, senior, came through the door. Granny hooted. “Homme-heureuse! Lookee who’s home! Chouchou and de grosbec!”
His grandfather beamed, leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Saw me the man himself. He’s in a good mood.”
“He is. Good to be home.” He loved the fact that his family was comfortable with him and Sam and with staying on the old homeplace and all. Sam’s people was a far piece away in Texas, but they came when they wanted, too.
“Oui.We brought a bill of groceries for y’all.” Grandaddy pulled the chair he’d gotten over, sat Granny down. “She ain’t complaining, but her hip’s sore as a boil.”
“Well, shit, Granny. I got you a chair.” Beau winked, knowing she’d take him to task for the swearing.
“Watch yo’ mouth, Chouchou!” She whacked him but hard.
“Ow! You want to chop, Gran?” She loved to whack a carrot.
