“I’m all in.” Beck called over his shoulder and headed for the sitting room. “And then we’ll go for a nice, long ride.”
26
As soon as Parker asked Sky to pull his rope, Beck knew they’d be there.
He wasn’t entirely sure if it was the long-time friendship, the look in Parker’s eyes, or cowboy superstition, but Parker had never ridden a finals without Sky there, and Beck knew it wasn’t really an option for his husband to not show.
The morning session with Sky’s fans had taken a lot out of Sky, all the questions and cameras and things to sign. Sky was all smiled out by the time it was over, and Beck brought Sky right back to their room and put him to bed.
He knew they’d be tired, knew Sky would need some cheerleading, but this was going to be a longer week than he’d imagined. He’d expected Sky might have some confidence issues but not the kind of anxiety he’d seen the moment they’d landed at the airport.
He ordered lunch, and now that it had arrived, he figured he’d better get his husband up. He didn’t have any idea what time Sky had to show his face tonight. The only thing he knew was, he was likely not going to be able to do much more than watch.
Sky was on his phone, a look of pure aggravation. “I know. We’ll go let the fans gawk at us after the event. We’ll eat in one of the restaurants. I want Brazilian. Make us a reservation with Chris and Mitch and them. Y’all can buy us supper.”
He sighed and leaned in the doorway. So much for a nap. He made a mental note to take Sky’s phone away next time. “I have food,” he mouthed when Sky looked at him.
Sky smiled for him, gave him a thumbs-up. “I’ll be there. But take me off the day sheet. I’m not riding.”
Sky managed to get that out and sound completely professional. Maybe after answering all those questions about his recovery and his plans this morning, they were finally just words. He’d have to watch and see.
He walked over, put his hands on Sky’s shoulders, and dug his thumbs into the muscle there, fighting with what might as well have been concrete. So…maybe not just words.
“You got it. You text me about the reservations.” Sky dropped the phone and leaned back into his hands. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” He leaned in and kisses the back of Sky’s neck. Sky always smelled so good right there. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“I did. I rested. How are you doing? You want to do anything before tonight?”
Do anything? He’d heard the plans. Shaking hands, dinner out, it would be a late night. “Yes. Sit with you. Watch some stupid TV or something. What time do you need to be there?”
“Sixish. We’ll make an appearance, shake a few hands. I’ll hold Parker’s vest, then we go before the event is over. They’re going to get us reservations at the churrascaria with Mitch and Chris. You’ll remember them. They’re both well, retired and quietly living on a ranch on the Texas-Oklahoma border, raising bulls.”
“I do remember them.” Well, that was a relief—they could at least talk freely at dinner while people pretended not to be taking pictures of them on their phones. “And I do love me some Brazilian. The food’s not bad either.” He scooped Sky up in his arms for fun and headed for the couch to sit.
“I love interactive food and men serving me with swords.” Sky ended up in his lap. “I love when you go all caveman on me more.”
He laughed. “It’s become one of my favorite things. Good thing you don’t have longer hair, I could go all Flintstones too.”
Sky cackled and kissed him. It was strange—when he’d seen Sky in this milieu before, Sky had been untouchable, this defiant cowboy that bested the world. Now? Sky was his husband and, while obviously he was capable of barking orders and making demands, the rest of the uniform wasn’t fitting as well.
He hoped maybe getting in there with Parker and talking him up might jazz Sky up a little. He didn’t need Sky to be that cowboy personally, but there might be someone who did. He thought of Parker, and what it meant to the kid that Sky was here. There were probably legions of Parkers.
He hated to see his man worried, and this was the best chance Sky had of getting past that little bit of lingering insecurity.
“What are you wearing tonight?”
“I’ll wear my sponsor shirt to the event, and the dark gray to supper. Did we bring my gray felt or only the black, do you remember?”
“We brought the gray.” He’d encouraged Sky to pack everything they could think of. He didn’t want to hear “Why didn’t I bring…?” No way.
He’d brought the only hat he owned. It looked great, but Sky had given it to him and it meant the world, so what it looked like was almost unimportant. He’d have worn it, whatever it was.
Plus it helped him pull off the “I’m with him” routine when they went places.
“Did you get those jeans back yet?” He winked at Sky.
“I did.” Sky’s lips quirked, eyes twinkling. “My poor abused jeans.”