Page 93 of File Gumbo
He leaned in, hands landing on Beau’s waist. One hand came up, just barely touching his head, so he leaned into it, rested against Boug as they kissed.
“Mmm.” That smile felt so good against his mouth. So good.
He thought about asking whether Granny and them was okay, thought about reminding Beau to stir the gumbo, then Beau’s tongue touched his lips and he opened up, stopped thinking.
He couldn’t—not yet—but it sure felt nice to start those first steps.
Beau pulled away before it got where he couldn’t breathe, stroking his cheek for a moment. “What do you want for dessert, Poot? Granny sent up some bread pudding. I could put some caramel on it.”
He frowned. “Is there gr…raisins?”
He only liked it if there were raisins.
“There are. Granny knows you, huh?” They moved around together, almost like they were dancing. Beau liked just holding on to him these days.
“She does.” He hummed, moving nice and slow. Two months almost, and Beau didn’t seem bored yet.
Once Boug had stopped watching him like a hawk all day every day, his man had started working around the farm, really going to town. Beau had been a fencing machine, and had re-vamped the kennels. They’d even started planning a new horse barn for the spring.
He was moving a little slower than that, and his damn Stetson still didn’t fit, but the gimme caps did and he’d even ridden. Once. For about five minutes in the ring. On Miss Patty.
Still, Beau had let him, not holding his lead or anything. Sam had been smart enough to know that his balance was still a little off, so he didn’t comment at all about Beau’s pale face and clenched hands. And he was man enough to admit that five minutes had exhausted him but good, left him worn, and he’d spent two days taking it easy.
His knees hit a chair, and Beau eased him down into it, kissing the good side of his head. “You want some coffee, Poot?”
“If we have some.” That must’ve come out right, because Beau smiled.
“We do. I made it up when the wind kicked in.” Beau was good that way. Downright domestic.
“It’s going to walk cold tonight.”
“Be cold.”
He nodded. “Be cold. Tonight.”
“It is. We’ll have to snuggle.” They grinned at each other. He knew Boug jacked off in the shower, waiting for him to be completely well again, but there was never any pressure. Beau liked to play lounge lizard with him.
He’d been waking up with a piss hard on of a morning lately, though, so it was coming.
“Need to pick out some movies, too. I bet you the satellite goes out.”
“Mmm. We could make pop. Pop. Pop. Corn.”
“We could. Have some hot chocolate.” They made plans while Beau went to make cornbread, chatting idly.
Beau’s phone rang, and the man looked at it, looked at him. “Ace.”
He grinned over, shook his head. They wasn’t on the tour no more. “Let it ring.”
