“Does she do real?” Sometimes it was bizarre how Coke avoided talking about family. Dillon wondered a lot if it was about Coke being gay. Coke was a believer, if not a churchgoer, and his folks might have been really strict God types. No one else seemed to know either.
“She does, and it’s huge. Tons of ornaments and stuff. Christmas there is wild.”
“I bet.” Dillon cleaned up a bit, humming, before he glanced at Coke. “Did I ever ask why you don’t get along with your family?”
“Probably.” Coke went over to the coffee pot, poured two mugs.
“Oh.” Wow. That was definite. “Okay. I’m sorry, babe.”
“No apologies needed.” Coke handed him his mug. “I have lots of family—cowboys every one.”
“Yeah. This is true.” Dillon thought on it for a moment. “Who’s been around the longest? I mean, now that Daniel Scott is gone?”
“John Dalton, I reckon. Him and Lefty were the ones who helped me.”
“Yeah? I like Lefty.” Dillon hadn’t worked with either man, but they’d been around all his adult life. Solid guys. Former bullfighters.
Coke nodded. “Lefty is a good man. Understanding. Got my back.”
Dillon filed that away in a tiny part of his mind. He wanted to ask Lefty some questions.
“Drink your coffee, cowboy. We have errands to run.”
“Yeah. We need ornaments, too.” He winked. “Sis has most of my ones from when I was a kid.”
“Yeah? That’s neat. What’s your favorite?”
“I had this terrible glittery snowflake.” He should get the wives he knew to get their kids to send ornaments for him and Coke…
“Oh, now. We need that on the tree.”
“I’ll call Susan.” He grinned. She would be happy to get rid of some of his childhood baubles. He’d just never had his own tree that wasn’t tiny. Christmas decorating alone got old.
“Good deal.” Coke nodded. “I ain’t never needed one. I always go visit someone.”
“Well, this year we’ll do it up right.” Dillon pulled Coke to his feet. “Let’s bundle you up.”
“Yep. Let the babies out, I’ll fetch our coats.”
“Got it.” Dillon let the puppers out, let them in, all that jazz. In his head, he was making all sorts of lists about what they needed to get and what all he needed to do. If he made a note to call Lefty later in the week, well, that was okay, too.
He could hear Coke whistling, the sound happy as hell. Made him feel good to know that his bullfighter was so relaxed and easy.
He would do whatever he could to keep it that way, too. Coke deserved some happiness and a lot of love. Dillon figured he was just the guy to provide it.
Lucky him.
Chapter Seventeen
“Dillon? What is all this paperwork shit from the damn bank?”
They kept sending shit in the mail and calling and stuff. This was why he just had the simple check account, damn it.
“It’s just confirmation of your new investments, babe. We need to file them.”
“My briefcase is gonna get full.” He had an old briefcase that he kept his papers in, carried it around with him.
“I can set up a little fireproof safe for the stuff you don’t want to haul around.” His cowboy was so organized.
