“Yeah? Excellent. He said we could come down, but…” Coke shrugged. He was happy right now.
“The kids have never seen the like of Thanksgiving here.” Winking, Dillon got out eggs, veggies, some weird Italian ham.
Coke stood, hands on Dillon’s hips, pulling the man back into him. “Thank you.”
“Huh? What, for not yelling that Nattie is a yellow-bellied traitor?” The joke was an old one by now, and held no heat at all.
“Exactly.” He kissed Dillon’s shoulder.
“Mmm.” Swaying, pushing back, Dillon gave him something to rub on.
Coke watched Dillon break eggs, stir. It was nice just to watch. He was so warm, pressed up against that fine back. It was like a furnace of his very own. Coke closed his eyes, took a deep, deep breath.
“You okay, babe?” They swayed, Dillon almost slow dancing him from in front.
“Mmmhmm. Just enjoying you for a minute.”
“Oh, good.” They kinda did a silly shuffle to the stove, but then he didn’t have to move. Dillon was pretty good at omelets.
He watched a bit, then went to pour milk and start toast, freshen up coffee. Normal stuff. Good stuff.
Dillon put the plates on the table and gave him a kiss before sitting. “So, you want to head into town in a bit?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be good. We need some food, and there’s that DVD movie.”
“Cool. We’ll make a list of what we want to make. Sis will want to do a lot.” Dillon’s toes touched his leg, pushing his sweatpants up a bit.
“What’s your favorite dish?”
“I like the sweet potatoes and the cranberry sauce.” That grin was all about the sugar rush—he’d seen it before.
“Why don’t that surprise me?”
“I don’t know, babe.” Those long toes tugged at his leg hair.
“Hey!” He hooted, pulled back. “I want pecan pie.”
“Oh, yum. The kids will want pumpkin. We should make a list.” Dillon was not the most organized soul.
“Well, is Susan and your folks coming here or are we bringing Nattie and them over there?”
“I have no idea. My place is a little bigger, but she has more of the stuff…”
“Well, honey. You call her, I’ll call Nate, we’ll be set for bear.” He rolled his shoulders and winked. “I gotta go to the bank, too. I got to get some money.”
“Okay.” One sandy eyebrow went up. “You should open an account up here. Fewer bank fees.”
“Yeah? I just got the old checking account. It don’t cost much, I don’t think.”
Dillon stared at him. “It shouldn’t cost you anything, babe. We have member checking almost everywhere.”
“Do I have that? Hold up.” He headed to the bedroom and grabbed his checkbook out of the little saddlebag that he kept his personal information in.
When he gave it to Dillon, his cowboy just stared harder. “Dude. How long have you had this account?”
“Twenty years, I guess? It’s the same account, but it’s been a ton of banks. I just put my checks in there, pay my bills from it.” There was a goodly amount in there, as a cushion. Lots of zeroes’ worth.
“Huh.” That frown was more…contemplative than upset. “Well, we can pull just a couple thousand for you to use up here.”
