“Jesus, Beauster. You’re like froze rope.” Those hands worked him, finding one knot after another.
“I know.” His head bobbed, and he felt all this tension pouring off him. Damn.
“We got your back now.” That was Bri, who started working his chest.
Beau nodded, letting his eyes droop closed. God, that felt good. They touched him, sorta melted him, bone deep, got him stretched out on a real mattress, boots off, hands pushing him down. Beau just went with it, letting the boys take care of him. They did that, took care of their friends, and he needed it. Bad.
“We got you, lay your burden down for a second.”
“We ain’t tellin’ nobody.”
“No sir. You’re with family.”
“I know.” He did. He so did. The stress was just kind of oozing out. That sounded way more gross than it was.
Somebody said a quiet little prayer, for him, for Sammy, for the trip. The words didn’t matter, the faith did. Beau hummed, nodding. Yeah. Please God, let it all go like it was supposed to.
“It’ll be fine.” Adam’s hand was on his shoulder. “Sleep. Chrissy’ll go sit with Sam.”
“That cool, Chrissy?” He wanted to let it all go for just a bit, but it felt like a betrayal almost.
“Surely. You stay here with the old men. Me and Sammy get on fine.”
“‘Kay.” He thought it was Bri who lay down next to him, curling up against his body. It felt good to have someone to hold on to.
The other one squeezed in behind him and he was surrounded by friends, by family, and he could believe.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sam rolled his eyes at the Taggart boy, shook his head, grinned. Good thing Chrissy could talk like nothing going because he wasn’t feeling like looking like an idiot out loud.
He’d woke up with Chrissy sitting there, telling him about the trailer and how Beau needed a nap and the trip home and and and… It was sorta like listening to a radio show or something.
He was real glad that Beau was resting, and apparently in a real bed. Or at least the bed in the new RV. That rocked.
“You gotta say something to me, man. I ain’t gonna tell if you sound stupid.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I’m talking into the void, Sammy. Can I just hear your voice?”
“Fuck you.” He winked, hating the sound of his voice. He could tell it was different now, tell it sounded weird. He just didn’t know why.
“Now, Sammy, you know I’m the one don’t swing that way.” Chrissy beamed at him, though, so he figured he’d done all right.
He chuckled, shook his head. “Where you seeing to find a girl?”
“Right now I ain’t lookin’. Well, more like I’m looking at everything and not planning to settle.”
That made sense. Chrissy wasn’t getting no younger, but…well, the Taggarts sorta… looked. A lot. At everything. And so long as the oldest Taggart’s eyes didn’t land too hand on Beau, that was okay.
Chrissy was still rambling about something when Beau came in, blinking a little, the bags under his eyes less prominent.
He reached out for Beau without thinking, then backed up.
“Hey, baby.” Beau grabbed his hand before he could pull it back, holding on when he sat down. “How was your nap? Mine was good.”
“Good.” He let his fingers rub Beau’s wrist. “Home?”
