He liked Paul well enough; he was a nice guy, but he wasn’t someone Hudson planned to share his love life, or lack of love life, with. They had work to do, right? He was here for work anyway.
He took a breath. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.” He picked up his fork. “How’s your chicken? It looks really good.”
“It’s amazing. My wife would bitch at me for the carbs and the grease, but I’m into it.” Paul chuckled and rolled his eyes. So dramatic.
Still, all Hudson wanted was for Paul to eat so he could go. He needed to talk to Jack.
9
Jack caught Wingnut around the horns, dragging him into the chutes, the motion as familiar as breathing. He could do that for months. Hell, he had.
He sure hadn’t expected to see Hudson here. Of course, he hadn’t. He’d heard though, from the twins’ weird-assed vast information system.
No one could take a shit that one of those two little fuckers didn’t know.
What was weird was that Hudson didn’t seem to want to see him. He hadn’t thought Anaheim was bad. In fact, it had been…
Well, Mackey had gotten hurt and all. That had been not-sexy. Maybe that had turned the guy off. Maybe it was too normal-life shit.
No one was here for every day, after all.
“Jack, on your left.” Mackey called, and he threw his loop.
Fuck. That was a reminder that distraction was something he didn’t have time for. Hudson was a distraction for when he wasn’t working.
Jack sighed and made himself get his mind in the middle. This wasn’t McD’s, where slipping up meant someone got one too few chicken nuggets. This was cowboying.
“Woohoo! Who’s that sexy pickup man?” Ellie’s voice could be heard clear across the state.
“Show ‘em how it’s done, cowboy!” That was Hudson. Hudson was watching him.
He reached up, tipped his hat, and his back straightened a little bit. Now he had someone to perform for.
Someone to show off for.
That made the next ride more fun. And the one after that. Soon enough, he remembered why he did this.
Jack was playing with Stockard Manning, the clown, letting Ghost sneak up, creep up and snort in his hair, so that they could make a game out of it. There were plenty of kids in the stands that liked this game, and they got laughs and applause. Ghost was totally into it.
Princess wasn’t anymore. When he rode her in the ring, she would work hard and do everything he asked, but she wanted to rest between rides these days. He never argued with her, she’d earned some rest.
Weren’t none of them getting younger.
The event was easy—up and down, no major shit, and he was happy to get the horses into the stables set up back here.
He whistled as he worked, feeding and combing, walking them out.
“Hey, Jack.”
That was a familiar voice. He turned to give Hudson a smile, but Hudson wasn’t alone. Hudson was with an idiot who wore a suit to a bull riding event.
“Jack, this is Paul. Paul, this is Jack Boers, the best pickup man this event has ever seen.”
“Hey, Jack.” The suit held out his hand. “You were something to watch.”
He dusted his hand on his Wranglers and held it out. “’preciate it.” What the hell was this? Was this Hudson’s man? “Y’all here for the whole event?”
Paul shrugged. “We just got in this afternoon. We have the expo tomorrow, and I think we’re leaving… Sunday?”