Page 47 of Leading the Blind
“I’ve already showed, so I’m reckoning on a win. I want to earn my vacation.”
“Well, then we need to make a plan for the interviews. You did okay last time, but they’re gonna want you to do that five questions BS soon.” Dillon chewed his lower lip, thinking hard.
“I can’t, Dillon. I cain’t stick my eyes straight, man. They’ll think I’m stoned or something.” Jason sounded damn near panicked.
“Well, unlike with Ace, you can wear your sunglasses. Just tell them the light hurts your eyes still. Schmaltz ‘em.”
“And y’all can’t tell with the lights on me?”
“Not with the glasses on.”
Bax nodded. Dillon had the sharpest eyes, so if he said no, then that was that.
“Hell, you get too worried about it, just limp off the dirt like you’re a little hurt and they can tell everyone you had to go to sports medicine. Then we hustle you out.” Coke was the man with a plan.
“Right. I’ll wing it.” Ah, the Jason Scott motto.‘When in doubt, wing it.’
That hadn’t changed one bit. Andy was okay with that. Made life interesting. Unless Jason was trying to drive, which had happened.
Coke checked his phone. “I swear, the weekends just get shorter and shorter. We’re heading to Dillon’s place after the event to spend a couple of days.”
“Good deal.” Bax glanced at Dillon, who was smiling at Coke, but there was an edge of worry in his eyes.What is that about? Gramps had better not be hurtin’ again.
Personally, Bax thought Gramps ought to retire and start having some fun. Seriously, all the man did anymore was cowboy protection. They went to Dillon’s, but that was like physical therapy, so Gramps could soak in that huge hot tub Dillon had put in.
They needed to go to Mexico or something. Go deep-sea fishing. Take a cruise. Disappear for a few months. Something.
“Huh?” He blinked. He’d missed something.
“I said, are you all geared up for today, son?” Coke was frowning at him.
“Sorry.” Bax chuckled. “Thinking about Momma’s chicken fried steak.”
“Oh…” That was a great sound that Jase made. Pure goofy male happiness.
“Damn. Don’t make Coke want to go south instead of north,” Dillon complained.
“You’ll make me pot roast,” Coke murmured. “And carrot cake.”
Dillon shimmied again. “That I will.”
Gross. Dillon still freaked him out a little bit.
Coke hooted, and Jason shook his head. “I can tell I’m missing a visual.”
“Bax has ‘ew’ face on,” Dillon said. “He just went there thinking about me and Coke.”
“Did not. You’re just not natural.”
“Oh, he’s all real, boyo.” Coke sounded satisfied as hell.
Bax gagged, clutching his throat and really working it.
Laughing like a loon, Dillon jumped on him, giving him a noogie.
“Jase! The clown is molesting me!”
“Make sure you wash the makeup off before you kiss me, then.”
