“You bet. Crispy critter, coming up.” Tracy liked her burgers black. Balta would want one mooing with that weird cheese…
“Thank you!” Tracy patted his ass, grabbed a short person, and wandered off, hollering something about cartoons.
An hour later, he’d fed everyone except himself, and he wondered how anyone could be a short order cook for a living. His feet were gonna fall off.
He also wanted to know where his bullfighter was.
Adam came over, grinned at him. “You look tired, Dill.”
“I am. You know me. Man of leisure.” He grinned back, leaning a bit when Tag slipped an arm around him.
“Shit, I know Pharris. That man ain’t spent an idle day in twenty years.”
“Nope. Doesn’t mean I can’t nap while he works.” That was bullshit, too, but he did love to tease Tag.
“Uh-huh. When we get a sec, you and me, we prob’ly need to talk. You know, you, me, Pharris, Nate.”
“Yeah?” Oh. Oh! He’d bet about Jason. “Yeah. Okay.”
Tag nodded, grinned and Dillon felt stupidly good at how quick he’d caught on.
Sometimes he felt like the brand new in-law. Like he didn’t know all of the jokes.
Still, everybody was letting him in, letting him be a part.
It’d only taken five years.
“Want a burger, Tag?”
“God, yes. Please. Sie will need one, too.”
“I can do it.” He would make a couple for Coke, too, and put them away.
Adam stayed close, gossiping about Christmas and Bry, about Granny Taggart and Beau and Sam.
“How’s Sammy, man? You’ve seen him in person.”
“Better. If he’s not tired, he almost seems like normal.”
“Oh, thank God.” He’d been afraid that Sammy would be hard to be around.
“Beau might kill him, but all in all? The man’s going to make it.”
“Good.” Beau wouldn’t.
“Yeah. Weird, though, them retiring.”
Dillon nodded, but he didn’t think it was all that weird. Coke would have to someday soon, especially if that poor neck took another hit. Dillon would see to it.
Balta came over, making the sign of the evil eye. “No talk of retiring. Is bad luck.”
“Hey. It works for Sammy.” He winked, knowing Balta was terrified of the very idea.
“Silva. Joa.” Coke nodded, shook hands, then bent to scoop Benji up, carry him off.
Dillon fought off the urge to follow, going to the kitchen instead to heat up burgers. He threw buns in the toaster, knowing how Coke liked his burgers.
Tracy came in, smiled. “Are you two staying in Coke’s room? Nattie wants to know where he wants us.”
