“No. Jack has reserved tickets for me in the family section for years. The last few I’ve ended up sitting with Ellie Hamish. We’ve become pretty good friends.”
“She’s a good momma. Makes pretty babies.” Mackey was mostly dozing now, hands opening and closing without any rhythm or pattern.
“Mhm,” he agreed quietly, letting Mackey fall asleep.
He should check in on Sid, but honestly, he needed a minute. Hudson grabbed himself a beer and wandered out onto the front porch to watch the sun start to tuck in behind the mountains. It would be a couple of hours before sundown, but he loved to watch the sky turn colors.
How had this become his life? He’d been a hipster, a modern city man with a favorite club and a regular restaurant. Now his favorite club was under stars instead of neon, and his favorite place to eat was on his back deck with Jack on the grill.
He missed Denver every once in a while. It was pretty hard to find a fancy coffee out here. Amazon delivery was a few days instead of overnight. Nobody delivered his shirts clean and pressed for him anymore.
Although Jack usually pressed his jeans…
Speaking of, the huge dually came down the road, cowboy hat on the dash. He knew there was a catch rope in the back, along with a cooler, a bunch of bottled water, and a spare T-shirt.
And tacos on the passenger seat.
He knew, because that was his man’s truck.
He stood as Jack pulled in and headed out to see if he could help carry anything. “Hey, there’s a hot cowboy in the driveway.”
“Hey, there’syourhot cowboy in the driveway.” Jack opened the door and reeled him in to give him a hard kiss.
“Mmm. You have a sip of my beer and I’ll grab the tacos.” He handed Jack his bottle.
“Thank you, darlin’. You rock my world.” Jack took a deep swig, throat working. How was that so hot?
“Mackey was asleep in his chair and Sid was asleep upstairs not too long ago.” He grabbed the tacos and took Jack’s hand.
“We’ll feed them and send them back to bed, and then go home.” Jack was absolutely sure about that, Hudson could tell. Jack loved it—having a home, being home with him.
“Sounds like a plan.” It was a long road, and they were going to be there when they were needed. But sleeping in their own bed when they could was the only way to stay sane.
They headed inside, walking side by side, tacos in hand.
Yeah, this was his life.
27
Jack wandered around the barns, telling himself that he didn’t need a cigarette, and if he did, he didn’t need it in the damn barn.
Hudson had been in Denver for a week, the contractors were working on the kitchen, Mackey was feeling better enough that he was being an asshole, and some dick monkey had dropped off a couple of fillies that needed worming and feeding.
He was fixin’ to have to go back on the road—it wasn’t bad. Two events and the finals, but still. He wanted to work with Mercy and Grace. He wanted to know that Mackey could keep it together for a couple of weeks without them.
Jack wanted Hudson to come the fuck home, dammit, and he’d been due back half an hour ago.
Hudson’s plane had landed on time. He’d texted to say he was on the ground. The black car Hudson had hired must be driving like somebody’s granny.
Which reminded Jack that his man needed his own truck. Or a Jeep. Something fun but still suited to a cowboy.
Something newer and more highway-comfortable than the little Honda he’d had in Denver. That thing was great on gas, but?—
Oh. Dust. Hudson was home.
The black car pulled up right in front of the house and the trunk popped open, and even from the barn, Jack could tell Hudson was tired. But as the car pulled away, the suitcase was still sitting on the porch and Hudson was jogging toward the barn.
God, that was who he needed to see. “Darlin’! I missed you.”