Good thing he knew where to get all three.
He was leaving his truck at the arena after he got the horses settled, so he and Hudson were going to need a ride. He’d have to check with the team to see how they were getting back.
Worst came to worst, he’d grab an Uber to take them back to the hotel. He wasn’t going to even ponder driving. Someone would die.
“You good, man?” Mackey limped his way, not hurt, just his usual post-event hobble. “I don’t remember the last time I wanted off the dirt so bad.”
“No shit. Ghost was getting stressed out, and that don’t hardly ever happen, you know?” Ghost was solid as stone.
“I hate Vegas. Don’t I always say that? I do. It’s always something. Ghost was right to be stressed. Princess did great though. You could set off a bomb, and she’d wait for you to tell her whether to run.”
“She’s my best girl.” He leaned hard against the stall wall. “You seen Hudson?”
“No, but the twins said he was talking with one of the sponsors out back. I’m sure he’s waiting on you.”
“Ah.” He grabbed his phone.
Jack
Whereyat?
Are you with Denton?
Hudson
Sorry. I’m still back by the chutes. I met Mark Denton, and he’s interested in my glove so I didn’t want to blow him off. He’s gone now. Fancy town car.
Jack
Sexy. Heading your way
They’d see how many Ubers they all needed. “Come on, Mack. Let’s get back to the hotel, huh?”
“Yeah. The twins have gone. Tommy’s waiting with Sid.”
“Good deal. We can share a car.” The two of them moved slowly, worn out from that crazy show, but they eventually found Hudson, who’d already found Tommy and Sid.
Hudson looked him over, then smiled. “Good to see you in one piece.”
“I ordered a van. They’re coming in about fifteen.” Sid winked at Mackey. “Helluva night, huh?”
Mackey nodded and sighed. “We’re basically whole. I want room service and a shower.”
Shit, him too.
“Me too.” Hudson looked at him, the heat in those eyes making him ache. “I’m hungry.”
“I hear you, yessir.” He was going to make sure that Hudson was focused on him and him alone. All night long.
12
Hudson blinked his eyes open when he heard voices in Jack’s hotel room. The door closed and it took him another second to smell the coffee and bacon. Jack had ordered room service. He rolled over with a groan, sore in all the right ways, and pushed up on one elbow. “Bacon? You’re good to me.” His voice was rough, which he’d blame on the arena dust if anyone asked, but Jack would know better.
“Bacon. Waffles. Eggs. Coffee.” Jack’s smile was slow and lazy, eyes dragging over his body. “Good morning, darlin’.”
“Good morning to you. Stellar morning, in fact.” He loved waffles, and he loved that Jack always remembered that. He sat up more, scooting so he could lean back against the headboard. “What time is it? Did you sleep? You deserve some after that show last night.”
“It’s nine-thirty. I have to be at the arena by one.” Jack slid in and snuggled close to him.