Tracy peered in, shook her head. “Nate.”
“I got it, baby girl.”
Nate looked at Dillon. “Where’s his meds?”
“Y’all!”
Tracy gave him a glare. “Hush. You want gravy on your stuffing? You’ll need to eat with your pills.”
“Here.” Dillon shook his head, going for Coke’s pill box, more than a little gobsmacked.
“Good deal.” Tracy sat him down. Nate brought him milk and pulled out a muscle relaxant from his own stash. Tracy took his hat off, took his phone, and kissed his cheek. “Coke, you know allyou have to do is tell us when you have a headache coming on. I hate that you let them go so long.”
“Don’t fuss, girlie.”
She snorted. “Coke Pharris, I was the one that cleaned you up during the first broken neck. I’ve earned the right to fuss.”
Coke’s cheeks heated, and Dillon kept his head down, handing Nate the box where he kept his meds, Nate sorting through and getting him the migraine pills Doc gave him. “I’ll go get your trunks and a robe, babe.”
“Hey.” He scowled at Tracy and Nate a second. “Dillon, stay, huh?” He’d be damned if his cowboy felt like it wasn’t Dillon’s place to take care.
Nate glanced at Tracy, who nodded. “I think I hear the kids. We’ll be back.”
“Sure, babe. Sure.” Dillon patted Tracy’s arm as they passed each other, coming to touch his cheek. “You gonna make it?”
“Shit, yeah. I just get headaches sometimes, huh? From the first bad break. Been a long time.” He leaned into the touch, smiling as Dillon grabbed the pills, pushed them on him.
“Well, take these and have a bit of food, then we’ll go from there.” Dillon stroked the back of his neck.
He took a shaky breath. “I’m not trying to be trouble.” God, that touch felt good.
“I know that, babe. Don’t be silly.” Dillon loved on him, nice and slow, lulling him.
He leaned forward, almost landing in the food. Right. Food. He should prob’ly eat.
“How about a little bread? Dinner rolls. Nice and soft and should sit okay.” Dillon let him lean, pressing a tiny bite to his lips.
“Mmm. Smells good.” He rested, nibbled, letting Dillon love on him some.
“It’s all amazing. We did good. Thank God a Thanksgiving feast tastes just as good left over.” Dillon chuckled.
“Everybody have fun?” The headache was easing off, leaving him a little shaky, sweaty.
“Yeah. The kids had a blast. I’m surprised the bassets didn’t explode.” Dillon’s sister Susan had been there, too. She must have left. Lord.
“I’m sorry about pooping out. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Hush.” That hand just kept moving, easing the pain in his neck and back. He blinked, the muscles slowly letting go, letting him relax.
“That’s better. Oh, so much better.” He got a tiny bite of turkey, some bright cranberry. Then some fruit salad, some dressing.
He thought he heard Nattie, asking Dillon if they needed any help.
Dillon murmured something that sounded like a ‘no, but thanks’. The man was focused on him, for sure.
The world got real slow, lazy, and he chuckled softly. “Can we have some pie?”
“We can. What kind do you want, babe?” Dillon moved, helping him up, and they went to the front room, where he sank down in the comfy recliner.
