Page 21 of Jackrabbit

Shaking his head, Beau turned back to the stove. It was the same damn thing at the shop. Colt fit everywhere. Even during his first weeks when Beau had been actively discouraging Colt from getting comfortable at Merc’s, he’d somehow managed to become one with the environment. Hell, Joyce had fallen for him day one. It was like a superpower, almost, the way Colt wiggled into the spaces you didn’t know existed and fit himself there like they’d been left open for him.

The chunks of purple-flecked taro root he dropped into the pan shuddered and rolled before settling. Beau was half-listening to Colt talking to his cat, but the other half of him was still in the garage. Was still watching Colt storm off in a temper and come right back.

Flipping the chicken, Beau pressed his tongue against his teeth. Sutton never would have done that. Would've stayed gone, sulking, until Beau went after him. Would've needed Beau to strong-arm him back into that seat and talk him through every adjustment.

Colt had done it on his own. Calmed himself down. Figured it out.

He'd been waiting for this kid to prove he was just like Sutton. Had been seeing that grinning ghost in every reckless choice, every cocky smile. But today,in the same seat where Sutton used to sit, Colt had shown him something different.

Beau pulled the chicken from the heat and set it on a plate to rest. Behind him, Colt laughed at something Cat did, and the sound was so alive it made Beau's chest tight.

“You’re a beast, did you know that?” Colt grunted, and the cat’s purr ratcheted higher. “God, what do you weigh, Craigory?”

“His name’s notCraigory,” Beau told him as he plated the food.

Colt’s eyes burned into his back.

“Is it Craig?”

“No.”

“Gregory?”

“No.”

“Gorbachev?”

Beau snorted despite himself. "Boy, what the hell kind of name is that for a cat?"

"A distinguished one!" Colt protested. "He could be a Cold War cat. Very serious. Much intrigue."

"He's afraid of the vacuum cleaner."

"Aren't we all, really?"

Beau shook his head and brought two plates over, setting one in front of Colt. The kid's eyes went wide.

"Holy shit, that's a lot of food."

"You just spent two hours fighting with that sim. You need it." Beau settled onto the stool across from him. "Besides, you been eating like a bird since I gave you that meal plan."

Colt's ears went pink. "How would you even—"

"You think I don't notice you eating half your lunch and saving the rest for dinner?" Beau picked up his fork. "'S not gonna work if you don't fuelproperly. Eat."

For once, Colt didn't have a comeback. He just picked up his fork and took a bite, then made a sound that had no business coming out of a man's mouth in a kitchen.

"Oh my God," Colt mumbled around his food. "This is so good. What did you—" He gestured at the purple chunks with his fork.

"Taro. Bought it at the Asian market on Fifth." Beau took a bite of his own food. "Starchy, but better for you than potatoes."

"I'm gonna need you to meal prep for me for the rest of my life," Colt said, already shoveling in another bite. Cat meowed and tried to stick his face in Colt's plate. "Aw, look at you. Just wasting away with no food, huh?”

"He ate an hour ago," Beau informed him. "He's just greedy.”

Colt cleaned his plate with single minded focus. Or mostly single minded. He thought he was being sneaky when he snuck the cat a bite of chicken, but he didn’t know that Beau's cat sounded like a goddamn gremlin when he ate.

Snorting and growling mixed with garbled purrs gave Colt away immediately, but he was too busy laughing to care that Beau was giving him an unimpressed look.